Chickenz stumbled out of the Exile's HQ into the Chicago streets looking rather disheveled and forlorn. Normally very well dressed and clean-shaven, his clothes were obviously well worn and he had developed a good bit of stubble. All he could think about was his last exchange with Malachai.

"No! No, no, no!" Malachai had shouted. "Your promotion doesn't mean you get more money! It means I get more money. From you. You follow?"

"But... But..." Chickenz had weakly protested, barely able to get a word in edgewise.

Chickenz thought of all the WORK this would entail, and sighed. More post offices needed to be robbed. More purses snatched. No. Something bigger. He needed something much bigger. Something that, done properly, would give him enough money to keep Malachai off his back for a while. But what was it? A bank robbery? No way, too old-fashioned. And besides, the depression being in full swing, banks just didn't hold the kind of money he needed.

"A union scam of some kind, maybe?" Chickenz muttered to himself as he walked away from the HQ towards the nearest barber shop for a shave and a trim. The whole thing went rather quickly, and soon enough he looked a little more like his old self. After leaving the barber shop, he walked directly across the street to a tailor and bought himself a new suit, leaving the old one behind as he walked out of the store.

"Nah, I've got every conceivable kind of union scam set up already." Chickenz sat down on a bench looking out at the city streets and lit a cigarette when a thought popped into his head.

"Post office, huh. I've robbed so many post offices. But I've yet to rob THE post office. The one in the Federal Building." This idea was just crazy enough to work. The only problem being that while this building houses the city's main post office, it also houses several government agencies, including courts and U.S. Marshals.

Lost in thought, Chickenz picked up a newspaper that had been left lying on the bench, and barely caught the headline. 

CAPONE SENTENCED TOMORROW - Federal building, Chicago Il.

Chickenz stared at the headline for a moment before he realized just what this meant. Capone was being sentenced tomorrow in the same building as the city's main post office. This meant the place would be swarming with people. This was the trial of the century. Perhaps people would be so preoccupied with the trial that they wouldn't notice a team break in, grab anything that wasn't nailed down and get out.

"Oh, yes.... That'll do. That'll do nicely." Chickenz grinned brightly, watching passersby and enjoying his cigarette while basking in the temporary silence of victory.