From -> Back Slash Jimmy "Big Jim" Gwiiisteroni stood, adjusted his pinstriped suit, and cursed. "Another shipment intercepted!" he screamed, throwing a newspaper to the floor. Jimmy's current moll hid behind a couch, because she had heard about what happened to Jimmy's last girl the last time he got into one of these moods. "If the coppers stop any more of our booze, we'll have to dip into our personal emergency stash just to keep up shipments!" "If you don't keep up shipments," Jimmy's accountant needlessly reminded him, "you lose business to the competition." "We've always cooperated with the city and the feds," Arturo "Back Slash" E. Moncti replied. Arturo was Jimmy's partner, and each was the only man the other respected and trusted. "Give the mayor a little 'Christmas Bonus', jewelry for the coppers' wives, and then we're all happy. But now... it ain't like the old days." "We got to hit these new feds, show 'em who's really runnin' Chicago!" Jimmy Gwiiisteroni argued, summoning one of his lieutenants. "If we let these people walk all over us, then everybody will walk all over us." "When you hit pigs, you stir up all the other pigs," Back Slash replied, with a piece of wisdom he learned early on the streets. "Let's try to be nice to them first. Talk to them, send them our regards. Show them how much they can gain by playing ball our way." Arturo snapped his fingers, and another lieutenant stepped forward. "Give them the usual welcome-wagon visit," Artie said, "and let us know how it goes." "OK," Big Jim agreed, "but my boys are going to be ready to do it my way if they decide they want to be tough." "I've never met a fed so dedicated that he'd choose an honorable death over a few bucks extra in his pockets," Slash responded, as the lieutenants left their presence. "They'll play." The reporter watched Moncti's man leave the Moncti/Gwiiisteroni stronghold. Realizing that there could be a story, particularly in light of recent problems the mobsters had been having, he decided to follow. From -> Homey The Clown "Bang!" A gunshot rang in the distance. A little 12-year-old kiddie ran to see what it was. The kid was wearing some real scruffy clothes. He stood at about 5'6" and weighed about 120 (which was amazing, considering what he ate). As he rounded the corner, he saw a man in a polka-dotted green suit lying in a pool of blood. Next to the body was a gun; and in the distance, sirens could be heard. From -> Zork Pendragon Several police cars arrived on the scene of the shooting a few minutes later. The young grubby boy stood staring dumfounded at the dead body in front of him. After the police vehicles, another car pulled up; this one a cadillac. Out stepped a plainclothes federal agent. It wasn't his demeanor that suggested his occupation to a casual observer, but rather the fact that he kept flashing his badge around indiscriminately, yelling, "Let me handle this! I'm a FEDERAL AGENT, after all!" The federal agent walked over to the dead body, the smell already beginning to get to him. "How the hell did this happen?" he asked rhetorically. "Evidently, someone pulled the trigger of a gun, causing a bullet to..." "I know that!" Kevin snapped to the answering police officer. "Where does this kid fit into all this?" he gestured to the young boy. The boy spoke up. "I heard a shot, and saw this dead body," the boy mumbled. "Hmmm," Kevin thought, "that's the third death this week. From the look of things, this is one of Gwiiisteroni's men. I won't find any more answers here." Kevin held out a dollar bill. "Who wants to make some quick cash?" "What would I have to do?" one of the police officers asked. "Start my car up for me." "And you'll give me the dollar?" "Uh-huh." "Okay... no problem." Kevin handed the officer the dollar, and the keys to the cadillac. The cop entered the car as Kevin found some cover. Nevertheless, the subsequent explosion did wonders for his hearing. "Bloody hell," he swore as he viewed the fiery carcass that was once his automobile, "looks like I'm walkin' home today..." From -> Back Slash Federal Agent Kevin Z. Pendragon climbed out of the dumpster, and looked around. Other than the poor sod who tried to start his car, and the criminal that was shot, there weren't any other casualties. "Good," sighed Kevin, who had been concerned, "if anyone else had been hurt, the paperwork would have been tremendous." "That's nothing," said one of Kevin's colleagues, arriving on the scene and seeing things much the way they were whenever Kevin went to investigate a gang hit. "J. Edgar is working on a new idea for paperwork, which he calls 'triplicate'. That'll suck." "One copy for us, one copy for HQ, and one copy gets burned so that the mob can't get it." Kevin had heard rumors that J. Edgar Hoover was getting a little paranoid, but didn't buy them. "Hey kid," Kevin called out to the twelve-year-old witness, "want to earn a dollar?" "Mommy!!" the kid yelled, running home to the Plantini residence and thus surviving this piece of the story. From -> Zork Pendragon Special Agent Kevin Pendragon and his associate Tim "Kill" Roy (nickname garnered from his new and original methods for questioning prisoners) arrived back at their headquarters, but were stopped at the door by a rather seedy looking guy in a pinstripe. "Psst. You two, c'mon over here," the seedy looking bastard whispered to Kevin and Tim. Tim and Kevin looked at each other, looked at the whispering man, shrugged, and walked over to where he was standing. "Hey, ain't youse two the new feds in town?" "Who wants to know?" Kevin replied. "I work for a man named Gwiiisteroni, p'rhaps you've heard of him?" "Oh, we've heard of him all right," Tim snapped back, "and we're going to put him and his partner Arturo out of business!" "That's what I came to see youse two about. Ya see, my boss wanted me to give youse two this here cash, to sort of, say, impair your vision towards some of his activities..." The man handed Tim and Kevin several bills with more zeroes than one usually sees on green paper. "Tell your boss that our vision is weakening by the second," Tim grinned, pocketing the money. "Good, I'm glad youse two decided to cooperate," the man grinned, then slipped off to report the good news to his superiors. Kevin turned to Tim. "You realize," he began, "that it would now be highly unethical to continue our investigation against this 'Gwiiisteroni' character." "It is also highly unethical to accept bribes," Tim replied. "So therefore, since we committed an unethical act by accepting this bribe, it would be no less unethical to continue our crackdown on mob action in the city." "You betcha." Tim and Kevin laughed at what fools Gwiiisteroni and Arturo were, then entered the F.B.I. headquarters. From -> Pit Viper Upon entering the F.B.I. headquarters, Tim and Kevin resumed their crackdown on Gwiiisteroni and Arturo. To them, this did not look like an easy job. To help them, they called on their technical expert Aaron Q. Viper to become part of their team and put an end to organized storyishmaroo. "Aaron," called Kevin, "get yo' butt ova here." The phone rang, so Kevin spoke on the phone while Tim told Aaron of the shooting and the explosion. "It's a tip of the next big night for Arturo," Kevin announced, hanging up the phone. "Let's get going and kick some... well, kick some THING." "Shouldn't we bring some weapons or something to defend ourselves against these mobsters? I heard they literally have armies!" "You're right. Go and get the big guns, guys," Tim said to a group of men standing by listening to the conversation. "LET'S GO!!" From -> Zork Pendragon Kevin, Tim, and Aaron waited patiently outside of the warehouse, preparing to barge in and shoot all the mobsters when the time was right (and possibly arrest one or two). Kevin was peering in the window, where he noticed several mobsters making deals of some sort. One of them got mad at another one, and a scuffle broke out. Before the three of them could join in the fray, a loud cry of "Stop this right now you vermin!" was heard, and in stepped Arturo to quell the fighting himself. "If we can take him out," Tim told the others, "half of our job is already done." "But it's about twenty to three in there," Aaron protested. "Not for long," Kevin smiled, loading his shotgun. From -> Tio Sancho "WE have a JOB we do here!" shouted the police chief. A large vein threatened to pop on his forehead as he screamed in a loud, booming voice. "WE CATCH CRIMINALS! We DON'T turn the streets into bullet-ridden SLAUGHTERHOUSES!!" The person he was yelling at was special agent Aaron Sanchis. He was the best cop on the force, but his methods didn't always follow protocol. But, he was almost ALWAYS right. A timid knock sounded on the police chief's door. "COME IN!!" he yelled. The mildly frightened figure of the station's best detective (as yet unnamed) walked in. "Sir, I have some information here," he cowered in a small voice. The chief grabbed the papers the detective held in his hand. "SANCHIS!" he roared. "What?" said Aaron, hiding a sarcastic grin. "You were RIGHT! AGAIN! I HATE that! It seems that the little old lady you gunned down was REALLY an agent of the notorious crime boss Gwiiisteroni. The detective, here, found quite a few weapons on what remained of her body after YOU took care of her." "I'm always right," stated Aaron with a self-satisfying air. "She didn't even finish asking for that quarter when I ripped her apart with my trusty gun, Marcus. Good job, Marcus," said Aaron, caressing his firearm. The fact that Sanchis was always right was the main reason he was still on the force, and also the main reason the chief hated him. He had a few funny quirks about him, and he refused to follow convention. For example, nobody could get him to wear a uniform. He insisted on wearing a T-shirt and these strange looking pants he called "jeans" (God knows WHERE he got them from). Also, when it wasn't warm out, he would wear another strange article of clothing called a "hooded sweatshirt." In fact, he had one on now. He also had these strange, funny little phrases he said for, apparently, no reason whatsoever, like "ack -- boink" or "spackle". In fact, he used one of these right now, as he walked out of the chief's office. "Blargh," he said surreptitiously. Nevertheless, he was a good cop. He calmly walked over to his desk, sat down, and assumed a comfortable position. With a slightly maniacal expression he stared straight at you the reader and said, "I know what I'm doing." He then stared around and started thinking. These past few days had been rough on him. The constant assassination attempts, criminal chasing, assassination attempts, extortion, assassination attempts... He was beginning to think someone was out to get him. "Well," he thought, "This thinking stuff is tiring." He then rested on the last line, awaiting his next assignment. From -> Zork Pendragon While Aaron Sanchis was amusing us with a subplot, the Untouchables (Kevin, Tim, and Aaron Q. Viper) burst into the warehouse where the gang war was taking place. Arturo, sensing a threat, immediately dived for cover. His cronies moved in on the three valiant government agents. "Give it up, Back Slash!" Kevin yelled over the gunfire. "We've got you surrounded!" "But Kev," Aaron whispered, "the other members of our secret force all died trying to start their cars. We're the only ones." "Shit, forgot about that," mumbled Kevin. Tim, not prone to conversation during fire-fights, was merely blasting away Moncti's cronies. Arturo decided to exercise the better part of valor and make a dash for it. "Goddammit, Slash is making a dash for it!" Aaron alerted the others. Kevin, Tim, and Aaron dived for cover; remarkably, none of them had been hit. The fire-fight ended when Tim alerted the police via smoke signals (no walkie-talkies back then!) and their back-up arrived. "We came that close to grabbing one of the big bosses!" Tim cursed. "Next time they won't be so vulnerable," Kevin added ruefully. The three government agents returned to headquarters, where they radioed Washington. "You three just try and get them legitimately," J. Edgar Hoover told them, "while we work on some of the more 'unorthodox' ways of going after them. One of our men came up with an idea that we can get warrants to tap their phone by linking them with something called a 'Backpack Tactical Nuclear Weapon' or something..." Arturo ran through the streets, clutching his wounded arm. "Those bastards shot me," he hissed, "they're gonna pay! But first, I need a place to hide out for the night." From -> Back Slash Arturo headed towards a 'safe' house, a house owned by a family who Arturo had once helped financially, but whom no one could ever trace to him. There he could rest and recover without fear of discovery. "It would have been worse if more cops had been there," Arturo thought. "Sure, all of my men that were there are dead, but they almost got ME! Good thing those car bombs took out so many of the cops. I just wish I knew who was planting them... it's not us!" Arturo considered calling Gwiiisteroni, but decided not to. He knew it was only a matter of time before their phones were tapped, if they weren't already. He had never trusted the damned things anyway. As the family below listened to "Amos and Andy" on the radio downstairs, Arturo fell asleep. "The plan worked," Big Jimmy gloated to himself as he pulled the truck into another warehouse across town. People immediately unloaded the booze and brought it to the distribution points. "I thought it was silly to split up and have two shipments on the same night," Jimmy told his floozy, "but it seems to have worked. We got a shipment through, and I'll call Artie about his." Jimmy dialed the office phone, then the home phone of Arturo E. Moncti, but there was no answer. "Damn," Jimmy thought, "someone should invent a machine to answer phones while people are away and take messages. I hope nothing bad went down." "There, there," the floozy said, and put it there, there... "We did it!" yelled Kevin, who proceeded to shoot a few holes in the ceiling in celebration. "Then why is fresh liquor hitting the streets?" asked Aaron Q. Viper, who had just finished talking to his deformed informants. "They must have smuggled in two shipments," Tim replied. "I hate when they do that," roared Kevin, shooting the floor. Aaron Sanchis, walking a beat like a normal cop while his chief's temper subsided, noticed a small twelve-year-old crawling out from under a car. He chased the kid, but the kid disappeared under a fence before Sanchis could draw his gun and open fire. Sanchis continued on his beat, and was five blocks away when a judge got into the car and was killed by an explosion. Three blocks away in the opposite direction, Mikey Plantini was buying a huge bag of red licorice with the money he was paid for planting the car bomb. From -> GW III Arturo slept for nearly six hours before Mrs. Catchem came in to wake him up and put a final dressing on his wound. It was three in the morning, it was raining, Arturo felt like shit, and he didn't have cab fare. "I hates it when Lady Luck spits in my ear." "Arturo, you must leave before Sam gets home. I'll meet you in the normal place next Tuesday. I'll miss you as much as I can," she sighed, as her un-bountiful 28's tried to bounce. "Yeah, right," Arturo thought to himself, "I'm outta here." With that, he whisked his way down the secret garbage hatch to the back alley. Gwiiisteroni paced nervously back and forth in his apartment on the fifth floor high above sixth and seventh street. The phone rang for the eighth time at Arturo's apartment on ninth and tenth street. "This should've been as simple as one, two, three." "What wrong wit Artie?" Jim's semi-clad female companion asked in a voice that would have driven even Sigmund Freud insane. "Nothin', now shaddup before I give you what for," Jim thought to himself. "Mental note, find new dame." "What wrong wit Artie?" she asked for the last time, just before Big Jim pushed her down his secret garbage chute. From -> Zork Pendragon "Goddammit, Grossi," the editor-in-chief of "The Chicago Tribune" yelled at his star reporter, "nobody wants to read about gangsters. People want their minds taken off of the bad things that're going on, not reminded of them!" "But, chief!" Tribune reporter Kristen Grossi replied, "there's some heavy stuff going down with the Gwiiisteroni-Moncti 'family'. If I can get the scoop on that, then I've got a Pulitzer comin' my way, and your sales are gonna go through the roof!" The ed-in-chief stopped. "What the hell," he thought, "I can assign this new 'movie review' section to someone else anyway." He turned to Kristen. "Okay kid, do your gangster story. But I gotta give the silent picture review section to someone else now." Kristen pondered. "Okay, boss, I'll come back when I have one hell of a good story!" She left the newspaper offices and began the story that would change her life forever. "Now that she can't do it," the ed-in-chief thought, "I can only give the review section to either that fat Ebert guy or the scrawny Siskel dude. Hmmmm..." From -> Lime Jell-O "Hallooo," Liam rambled. "I am Liam. I have been sent here to aid the Untouchables in their quest for whatever they are trying to do; which I don't know at this time because I am too lazy to read the rest of the story. The US government has said you need a proctology- oriented guy like myself to aid in your search for what I have no clue, so here I am." Just then, a thought entered that black hole which we call Liam's mind. "How can I be an Untouchable," he pondered, "when I so enjoy being touched? Especially by Mike Labbe!!" Kev then exclaimed, "Don't be a mo-mo head, it's not THAT kind of Stouching." "OK, I guess that's OK," Liam replied elitely, "but can I still touch myself?" "Sure, just not around us," replied Kev." "OK, I can deal with that." At that point an odd bald man wearing blue dickies work pants four sizes too big and combat boots stumbled in. "My name's Ian MacKaye, and I'm DRUNK!" he hollered. "Gosh, it's a good thing you're not careening about in an auto," blabbed Aaron. "Ya coulda gotten 'rested ... Nonono, arrested, yes that's it..." From -> Falcon Mikey slipped into the alleyway where a large figure was waiting. "What next, Mr. Falconi?" Mike asked. "The large, black Cadillac that Gwiiisteroni drives. It's over on the next block." "I, uh, I don't, sir, I don't, uh, know if I can handle that one, Mr. Falconi." **SLAP!** "You'll do the jobs I tell you to do or you won't be eatin' dis!" Falconi grabs the bag of licorice and throws it to the ground. "So get outta here and do the job!!" "Yes, sir, Mr. Falconi. I'm sorry, sir!" From -> Cannon Ball "This is a revoltin' development," ace reporter "Cannon Ball" Jones mumbled. Jones worked for the Tribune's main competitor (I don't know Chicago newspapers!) and was following the mob battles for weeks. "Now they're gonna muscle in on my story, and they even sent a dame!" Jones yelled in stereotypical 1920's chauvinism. "Oh well, I still have all the contacts. I tell the feds when the next shipment is so I can write a story about the bust. Or, I don't tell the feds so I can write about the one that got through. Both stories are getting boring." The headline-hound thought for a while. He'd do anything for a Pulitzer Prize, and couldn't wait for Pulitzer Prizes to be invented so he could get one. "I know! I'll give information to the mob this time! The mob will slaughter the feds when they show up and I'll have a major story that will double our circulation; which is pretty good since 75% of the city already reads whatever paper I work for." It was time for a new paragraph, so C. B. Jones started composing an anonymous note to deliver to Big Jimmy. From -> Back Slash Arturo arrived back at the offices of Moncti & Gwiiisteroni, attorneys at law (an excellent cover which fooled a total of five people into believing that Arturo and Jimmy were honest citizens). He compared notes with Big Jimmy, about the shipment that succeeded and the shipment that didn't. "We need a plan," Arturo suggested to Jimmy. "We should go talk to some of the policemen that we own, and see what they can tell us about these untouched people." "After that, we should talk to that guy at the Herald," Jim responded. "You know, Cannon Ball Jones. The one who's always there when the feds show up to bust us. We got to find out where he gets his information." Gwiiisteroni summoned another of his dwindling supply of lieutenants. "Bring my car around," Gwiiisteroni ordered, "we got places to go." After the flames from Jimmy's ex-car died down, Arturo declared, "So, the mystery bomber is coming after us now. I figured it would happen soon enough, it could only be a rival gangster trying to screw things up in Chicago before moving in. He's decided it's time to go after the competition." "We got lots of stuff to do," Jimmy told Artie. He then called over one of his remaining lieutenants. "Get me some more lieutenants!" he ordered, "and a new floozy, too!" "Someone just tried to blow up Gwiiisteroni!" Liam exclaimed as he dashed out of the federal agents' bathroom. "All this time, we thought he was behind the bombings," Kevin mused. "Why don't we have the local cops find out who's behind the bombings?" Tim "Kill" Roy asked. "That way, we can find out now if there's a new player on the scene." "That'll also keep the cops out of our hair," added Agent Viper. Sergeant Aaron Sanchis grunted as his chief walked into the room. The chief tossed a folder onto his desk, and announced, "You've got a new assignment, flatfoot!!" "Just tell me what it is," Aaron responded calmly, "and I'll have it solved in fifteen minutes." "It's all in the folder!" the chief growled, then returned to his office. Tribune reporter Kristen Grossi climbed out from under Aaron's desk, and asked if she could come along, "just in case there's a story in it for me." "Sure thing," Sanchis replied, "just don't let the chief see you. It's probably against some regulation." From -> Falcon "Good job, Mikey. Good job. Here's your five dollars, and your next bomb." "I want eight dollars for this job, and nine for the next, or you can do it yourself!" "Why you son of a bitch!" Falconi pulled out his knife and sliced off the tip of Mikey's pinky finger on his left hand. "You damned ingrate. You'll do it for five, or you won't be getting any money at all. And in this economy, you can't get another job at all! They won't have another one this 'bad until 1991!!!" "OK, OK!! Do you have a Band Aid, Mr. Falconi?" Jimmy asked. **KICK** "Get outta here! Johnson & Johnson was just created, and they haven't made those yet, you yellow backed ninny!" Falconi thought to himself. "Ahh, just according to plan. Next time, though, I WILL get Gwiiisteroni!" From -> Zork Pendragon Cannon Ball Jones entered the offices of Gwiiisteroni and Moncti, attorneys at law. "Mr. Jones," Gwiiisteroni greeted, "please have a seat. "I trust you had a pleasant drive up here?" "I walked," Cannon Ball replied. "Everyone knows it isn't safe to own a car in Chicago anymore, or at least to drive one." "Yes, that's what we called you here to discuss," Arturo interrupted, "the 'Mad Bomber' is bad business for everyone. The feds, the press, the cops, and us. It would be in all of our best interests if he was put outta business..." "And where do I fit into this?" Jones retorted. "We know you have all the connections in this city. If you can dig up any info on this 'Mad Bomber', we'll be sure to greatly reward you." "There is one favor I can think of." "Name it." "A rival reporter is getting too nosy. She may reach this story before I do. I'd like to have her 'eliminated'." "Ah yes, Miss Grossi," Jimmy mused. "Find out what you can about the 'Mad Bomber' and we'll make sure the slut gets out of your hair... permanently." "Gentlemen, I think we have a deal." "Excellent." After shaking hands with the two mobsters, Jones left the room to discover, while glancing out of the window, another car go up in flames. "Hmmm, better get crackin'," he thought, "at least I don't hafta worry about the Grossi dame no more." "Do ya think we can trust him, Jimmy?" Arturo asked his partner after Cannon Ball had left. "Yeah, I think so, but just to be on da safe side, we should kill him too, right afta we ice Grossi." "So, when we gonna ice Grossi?" "Soon, but first there's another thing we gotta take care of." "Which is?" Arturo asked. "Those fuckin' feds. They took our bribe and still went after us. Nobody takes advantage of Gwiiisteroni. We get rid of Pendragon, Roy, Viper, and Gray first, then we nail Grossi. Personal vendettas come before business." From -> Homey The Clown Mikey started walking around. "Dick," he muttered under his breath. "What was that!?" screamed Mr. Falconi. "What, you deaf? You need a Whisper 2000!? I said you're a dick!!!" Falconi started running after Mikey, but he didn't notice the bad position he was in. Mikey turned around with the bomb in his hand... Miss Grossi got in her car and started looking for the feds, thinking they would be a helping hand. Then, out of the darkness, in a blue car, a man pulled out a machine gun. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! A man in a red suit fell to the ground. Miss Grossi screamed, and pulled over to try to help the dead man. In a few moments, cops and feds pulled over. "What happened here?" asked an officer. From -> Zork Pendragon Kevin examined the police report. It read almost exactly like a post by Homey the Clown. He threw the paper away in disgust. "It looks like a fucking two-year-old wrote this," he mumbled. Officer Aaron Sanchis was searching for clues as to the whereabouts of the mad car-bomber. Following close behind was ace (or is that joker?) reporter, Kristen Grossi. "I'm sick of being treated like shit by you!" Plantini screamed to Falconi. "Who says you can bully me and order me around, just because you're bigger than me, stronger than me, pointing a gun at me, and..." Mikey trailed off, as the realization hit him. "More bombs," Falconi smiled. "Yes-s-ssir," Plantini gulped, and went off to do his master's bidding yet again. "Arturo, we gotta gather our forces for tonight!" Gwiiisteroni screamed. "Tonight, not one of those goddamn feds continues breathing!" "Can't wait, Jimmy," Arturo grinned. From -> Back Slash "Tonight," Arturo whispered, "we have two more shipments coming in. I ain't told nobody yet, so there ain't been any leaks. We each take some of our best men to meet them." "And to keep dem feds busy," Jimmy added, "I send my best, and currently only, lieutenant to mess wit dem a bit." Jimmy whistled, and Don "Shadowstorm" Messier ambled in. Don, as his last name indicated, was one of Chicago's messier killers. After one of his hits, no matter how hard they tried, the police were never able to find all of the parts of the victim. "We got a little job for you tonight, Donny-boy," Jimmy told him. From -> Zork Pendragon "That's it!" Liam yelled, slamming down the phone, "there's gonna be two alcohol runs tonight! I just found out where BOTH of them are going to be, thanks to an anonymous informer." "Good, now we can nail Moncti and Gwiiisteroni, in the SAME night," Aaron added in joy. "But first, let's go for some Chinese food, I'm starving," Tim interrupted. "Good idea," Kevin agreed, and the four set out for "Hong Kong Phooey's House o' Noodles n' Other Stuff"... As the four feds walked down the street (Kevin stopping the occasional passerby on the street to explain that he was a federal agent), Don was searching for them. Unfortunately, he had lost the pictures Gwiiisteroni had supplied him with, so he had to look for his victims before he could kill them. "Oh well, I'll find them sooner or later," Don muttered under his breath. "Excuse me," Kevin yelled, walking up to Don, who was walking the other way. "Got any info you can give me? I'm a FEDERAL AGENT, you know!" Kevin gave one of those smiles that you just want to hit, so Don did. "eleTOAST," Don grinned, and dragged Kevin into an alley. "Shit, where the hell is Kev?" Liam wondered. "I dunno, but there's some strange noises coming from that alley. It could be Kev." "Or it could be some sort of sexual deviant," Aaron added. "Either way, it's worth checking into," Tim stated. The three feds entered the alley and found Mike Labbe and Jeff Whitman going at it. "Oops, wrong alley," Liam noticed. Checking the next alley, they found Don throwing Kev into the wall, where Kev slit his eye on a stereo rack. From -> Tio Sancho Aaron Sanchis and Miss Grossi pulled over to the side of the road. The mission Sanchis had been given was to infiltrate a certain alcohol smuggling operation and obliterate it (and, most likely, the REST of the neighborhood). This sounded pretty simple to Sanchis, only he had to find it first. Although detective work was not his business; the regular detective, dressed inconspicuously in a red suit, had been mistaken for someone else and killed by the Mad Bomber. Which is why, now, Sanchis was searching for that particular bomber. He and Miss Grossi hoped to blend in with the street crowd and pick up the trail where the unnamed detective had left off. Walking on the sidewalk, they passed a certain dark alley from which strange sounds seemed to be emanating. "Wait here," said Sanchis in a bold and commanding voice. "I think I may have discovered something." Sanchis pulled out Marcus, his trusty weapon; and snapped, pulled, twisted, and turned several parts of it. "Armed," he stated assuredly. Holding his gun out in front of him, he quickly jumped into the alley, where he found Mike Labbe and Jeff Whitman still going at it. Needless to say, he blasted both repeatedly with Marcus until all that remained was a bloody, gaping hole in the ground. "Damn," he said, surveying the smoking carnage. "Missed a spot." After this brief interlude, he and Miss Grossi continued on their mission. In the next alley over, four federal agents were beating up an innocent-seeming bystander. "Help!!" shouted Don. "eleFUCKED!!" Sanchis pulled out Marcus again. The federal agents, astounded at the sheer SIZE of the damn thing (no telling WHAT the hell it was), gaped and stared, completely forgetting about Don, who was walking around dazedly mumbling "eleSOMETHING... eleSOMETHING..." From -> Madmouser Don Falconi walked into a seemingly innocent mom and pop store in one of, well no, THE seediest part of town. He went up to the counter and rang the little bell. "Hey, what do you want?" asked the counterman. "I'm looking," said Falconi, slowly and carefully, "for some more party favors." The last two words had a strange emphasis placed on them. "OK, OK, come this way," said the counterman as he led Falconi down a long and twisted flight of stairs. As they got to the bottom, the stairs stopped. "Ummm, excuse me, Mr. Johnny?" queried the counterman. "Yeah, waddaya want?" replied Johnny. "Guy here wants to buy more party favors." Again, the strange emphasis. By this time, Falconi had angled himself so that he could see the whole basement, which was loaded with all sorts of chemicals and things. Nasty looking things. "Yeah, I need thirty more," said Falconi. "Same price OK?" "OK." "Lessee... fifty bucks a pop (heh, pop, that's a good one)... thirty pops... that'll be fifteen hunnerd dollars, please." "Here you go. Oh, by the way, what is that thing over there that looks like a bag stretched over a frame?" asked Don Falconi, puzzled. "Tactical nuclear device," replied Pat "Saints" Johnny. "What's it for?" "The end of the story." "Oh..." "Hey Don," the counterman interrupted, "wanna do me a favor?" "Sure," Don said, cautiously. "Get out of my fucking store wit dem explosives!" From -> Back Slash Sanchis waved Marcus around. He viewed every slaughter as a work of art, and liked to pick just the right angle to start from. Tim, Liam, and the other Aaron gaped at the device of destruction (which looked like a semi-automatic hand-held sixteen-shot BAZOOKA) and had lustful thoughts of what it would be like to be on the other side of such a gun. Then they had terrified thoughts related to the fact that they were, in fact, on the WRONG side of the gun. "Err," began Kevin, stepping forward slowly and clearing his throat repeatedly, "we are, umm, federal agents, and really would prefer not to die this early in the story." "We are pretty important characters," Tim piped in, as Shadowstorm began to limp away unnoticed. "Though obviously not as important as you," Liam added in his best conciliatory anus-licking tone of voice. It took a while for the issue to be settled, during which time Shadowstorm got away, none of the Lords of Law Enforcement got killed, and Kristen wrote a rude story about police and FBI competence or lack thereof. They also missed halting the booze shipments that night; which was just as well as the mobsters had set up booby traps around these warehouses to get the cops: they had poisoned the cream-filled donuts in all of the surrounding donut shops. Don (Shadowstorm), staggering down the road under the weight of his wounds, bumped into Don (Falconi), staggering down the road under the weight of his sack of pipe bombs. Falconi dropped the sack, and screamed, "oh SHIT!!!" Falconi dived for cover as 50 pipe bombs went off. Shadowstorm wasn't as fast as Falconi, but was protected by the thick layer of scabs covering most of his body. He was propelled through the air by the force of the explosion, and crashed through the windows of Gwiiisteroni's office at about 150 mph, coming to rest on Big Jimmy's overstuffed imported couch. "I take it things didn't go quite accordin' to plans," Jimmy said in an unconcerned tone. "Mind tellin' me why you didn't come through the door?" "The feds jumped me," Don replied weakly, "and I was only able to escape because of my cunning and expertise. I also think I discovered who's been plantin' those car bombs, but I don't know if he survived when I detonated his supplies." "You done good, Donny-boy," Jimmy said, patting Don on the back and ignoring the resulting screams of pain. "Let me give you a reward. What can I do you for?" "Aspirin would be nice," Don said, and fell into a coma. Big Jimmy borrowed one of Arturo's men to transport Don to a hospital. From -> Zork Pendragon The feds decided to trade notes with Aaron Sanchis on their respective investigations. "We haven't really come up with anything," Kevin explained. "Neither," Aaron answered, "have I." "And our taxes PAY YOUR SALARIES!" Kristen added indignantly. "There's more to life than work," Liam responded ruefully. From -> Cannon Ball "They definitely know about the two shipments tonight," said Cannon Ball Jones (not saying it was because he told the feds). "You could set a trap and slaughter them, just let me take pictures and write the story." "It's about time we brought the battle to them," Jimmy Gwiiisteroni said. "We kill enough of them, we don't have to worry about being so nice no more." "We ought to catch a few alive too," Slasher said "maybe to make examples out of or to use as hostages." "And that bitch reporter Grossi will be with them too," said Jones, "make sure she gets what for..." From -> Zork Pendragon Gwiiisteroni and Arturo were at one of their more expensive cover operations, a five star restaurant called "Eat At Gwiii's". Also with them was Jimmy's hit man, Don "Shadowstorm" Messier. "I've never been here before, boss," Messier stated. "It sure does look eleGANT!" Jimmy fistfopped Don for the poor bad joke discretion he had used. "But boss," Don protested, "why don't ya hit Kevin?" "In good time..." Listening to blues on the radio (elite music not due to be invented in at least 40 years with the arrival of Iggy & The Stooges and The Velvet Underground), the four elites headed up to the restaurant, where an anonymous tipper (now revealed to be Cannon Ball) had told them Arturo and Gwiiisteroni would met, before the next shipments. Following close behind were Sanchis and Grossi. From -> Lime Jell-O After being seated by Ian Mackaye (who was still wearing Dickies, still had no hair, still was drunk), the feds pondered the menu. Kevin mumbled about flambe's. Tim said he wanted cocktail wieners, and Liam scratched his naughty bits a whole lot. At that point up walked a young lady. "My name is Missy, and I'll be your waitress this evening, and, oh, DON'T GO NEAR THE EDGE!!!!" she blarbled. "OH MY!" said Liam. (Was this a reaction to the waitress' statement or just because he had scratched too hard? We may never KNOW!) Although they ordered cocktail wiener plates all around with a side of French style string beans, they were instead served raw pieces of beef. They just slapped themselves in the forehead with them for a couple of hours. Then, they asked for those neat mint-flavored toothpicks. From -> Cannon Ball Night fell as it always did, out of the sky and onto the ground, breaking the necks of a few poor animals who weren't smart enough to get out of the way. In an alleyway outside of the warehouse where Arturo was receiving a shipment, the feds waited in hiding for their moment to rush in, attack, yell, kill, flash badges and maybe arrest a few mice living in the rafters. But unfortunately for them, before their moment came (only ten seconds before, I think, but I didn't have a stopwatch), gangsters blocked both ends of the alley. The feds looked up and saw gangsters with machine guns on the roofs and aiming out of the windows. "Just say the word," said Shadowstorm evilly, "and youse'll all be Swiss cheeses, yodelling and sitting out world wars." Ignoring the politically incorrect racist comment (actually it can't be racist, because it was criticizing a European country; hey hey, ho ho, Western culture's gotta go), the federal agents surrendered; but "you'll face the music yet," swore Kevin, still flashing his badge. Arturo went up the them and said: "I'd like to change your mind, by hitting it with a brick," he said, "though I am not unkind. There's only one thing that I know, and that is smuggling in the dark, smuggling in the dark, smuggling in the dark..." (repeat as often as is necessary, like eleven times or something). "That's pretty wacky," Liam said. "He's making US face the music." "But it could be more elite," one of the other feds complained. The four federal agents were now Arturo's prisoners and hostages, which gave Cannon Ball Jones one hell of a story, but he had to leave the song out for copyright purposes (no he didn't, They Might Be Giants hadn't written it yet. Maybe he could sue them!) However, on the other side of town where Sanchis and Kristen were going after Gwiiisteroni's shipment, things were going differently... From -> Homey The Clown Mikey looked around the streets for a while. Finally, he found what he was looking for. Running and screaming, he saw a dime on the ground. He jumped it; and in a couple of seconds, all that was left was fingerprints and drool... Unfortunately, it was an FBI badge. "What! I got excited for this??" "Hey, kid," whispered a person in an alley. "Yea?" answered Mike. "I know you're the one doing the bombings; so you'd better follow me." From -> Back Slash Mikey picked up the shiny federal agent's badge that he found in the alley (Kevin's, of course), and had an odd urge to run around showing it to people and yelling, "I'm not a federal agent! Really!" He stifled that urge, however, and instead walked into the alleyway to talk to the stranger. The stranger who had found him. The stranger who knew who he was and what he did. The stranger who had a gun pointed at him. "Damn," Mikey thought, and then felt guilty for thinking a dirty word, "I've got to get me a gun one of these days." Cannon Ball Jones went back to his office to write a story about the federal agents being captured by the mob. He knew that this story was gonna be big, and probably worth a promotion. He wondered if Arturo planned to kill the feds. If so, Jones thought, that might make an even bigger story. He decided to ask Arturo next time he saw him. Arturo brought the feds to a secret hideaway that only he, not even Gwiiisteroni, knew about. He searched the prisoners thoroughly, tied them up, gagged them, and then beat them senseless with a baseball bat. He then slipped out the same way he had come in, through the secret garbage chute. Arturo "Back Slash" E. Moncti then went back to see what had happened with his partner, Jimmy Gwiiisteroni. Across town, in the alleyway behind the warehouse where Gwiiisteroni (the San Francisco treat) was receiving a shipment, Officer Aaron Sanchis and reporter Kristen Grossi prepared to disrupt the shipment. They were also careful not to step in the little puddles of Labbe/Whitman. Gwiiisteroni was also ready for them, since Cannon Ball Jones had informed both him and Arturo of the plans against them. Unfortunately, twenty mobsters with automatic weapons may out-gun Kevin, Liam, Aaron Viper, and Tim; but they don't have the firepower of Sanchis and Marcus. Sanchis blew away the ambush that was arrayed against them, while Grossi took pictures of the carnage (which would look great in her paper's "Lifebeat" section). The booze shipment was confiscated and taken away to be used as evidence. Every cop in Chicago was drunk for weeks, and no evidence would have been left if this were ever allowed to go to trial. But it wouldn't. Gwiiisteroni was captured and arrested, and the one honest judge left in Chicago (he was new, and scheduled to be corrupted next week) ordered him held without bail. Sanchis got a rare compliment from his chief, and a good night's sleep. Kristen's story of Gwiiisteroni's capture outsold Cannon Ball's story of the federal agents' capture (after Kristen's stories of FBI incompetence, readers weren't surprised to find out they were captured. Jones responded by writing editorials about mobster incompetence, starting with a big, front page story on Shadowstorm and all of Gwiiisteroni's other (now deceased) lieutenants. The next morning, upon finding out about the capture of the federal agents, Sanchis had Gwiiisteroni interrogated (he didn't do interrogations himself; not in cases where he really did want answers, at least). When Jimmy Gwiiisteroni couldn't tell him where the feds would be, he decided he needed a plan. A new plan. "Kill everyone" just wouldn't work this time. He decided to try to negotiate with Artie, maybe arrange a trade of Big Jimmy for the feds. If that didn't work, he'd have to come up with yet another plan, which could take months. Arturo refused to trade. But he didn't have a decent plan for rescuing Gwiiisteroni yet, either. From -> Madmouser As little Mikey walked into the alley, still fighting off the urge to run around screaming that he wasn't a federal agent, he finally saw the face of the person with the gun. It was none other than Pat "Saints" Johnny. "Listen to me, kid. I know it's you that's been doing the bombings, and I've got a business proposition to make ya." "OK, what is it?" replied Mike. "I want ya to come to work for me. I can and will pay you more money than that Falconi could ever pay you." "Well I dunno... He said that if I worked for anyone else, he'd kill me." "That's OK, I don't let my employees get killed." "OK," Mikey finally said, after some thought, "I'll do it only if you pay me $10 a bomb." "Deal!" "Great! But when do I start?" "Right now. This here is not just a pipe bomb, it's got this stuff I call 'C-4' in it. It'll level a city block, and I want you to stick it in Falconi's mailbox." "Great!! I'll do it gladly. I never did like him." From -> Zork Pendragon Falconi stirred. "So, the little fucker is gonna try and double- cross me, huh?" Kevin would have stirred, but he was missing his badge. "C'mon, Liam, let me borrow yours. I just wanna flash it around a bit." "No, it's mine and you can't have it. Besides, it wouldn't have your name on it. It would almost be like you owning... a FAKE ID!!" Kevin gave a pissy look to the narrator for putting such blatant in-jokes into the story. Arturo jumped into the room, sang the theme song from "How the Grinch Stole Christmas", then jumped out again. Unfortunately, before Tim or Aaron Viper could contribute to the plot, the focus of the story shifted yet again. Kristen interviewed Gwiiisteroni for the "Tribune". Gwiiisteroni revealed that he had never really wanted to be a mobster, but had indeed wanted to study ballet. "It's the bloody peer pressure!" he wailed. "Everyone else is a mobster! Why won't someone go along and invent 'The Muppet Show', goddammit!" Gwiiisteroni then threw the magazine he was reading out, describing the story in it, by one Howard Philip Lovecraft, as "a forgettable piece of crap." The cult of Cthulhu was not pleased. Neither, however, was Arthur, because Kevin was mixing genres again. Aaron Sanchis had nothing to do in this post, so he used his gun as a vibrator and masturbated in silence, the dull hum hum whirr whirr annoyed the other police officers, but not to the point of severe agitation. From -> Cannon Ball The unscrupulous Cannon Ball Jones sat at his desk, feeling no remorse for double-crossing the federal agents but some anger for the fact that the Grossi bitch had stolen the initiative from him scoop- wise. The fact that she was supposed to be dead by now also riled him. He needed a new story. He decided to concentrate on finding the mad bomber and let other people worry about the feds and Gwiiisteroni. The Bomber was new and different, and CB smelt a major story brewing there. Or maybe he was just smelling the newsroom's extra-strong coffee. No matter. He started gathering up back-issues of the newspaper with bomber stories, to see if he could find a pattern. He eventually found inspiration, but not until a few more posts had passed. From -> Back Slash Arturo, carefully avoiding being followed or watched, headed back to where he had the federal agents stashed. He had to re-gag some of them who were talking, check the ropes holding them, and then beat them unconscious with bats again. He then dropped out the secret garbage hatch, and slipped back to his headquarters. Gwiiisteroni was only too happy to talk to the female reporter and be interviewed, although he was careful not to say anything specific which could be used against Arturo or himself later. He thought the reporter was cute, and he was currently short a floozy, so he made his move. "Are these cops boring you?" he asked. "Why don't you come with me... I have a bigger gun." Arturo climbed up the secret garbage chute and into his office. He knew where Gwiiisteroni was, but didn't know how to rescue him with all of those cops around. Then he had an idea. He made an anonymous phone call to the police. "Check out the old Bavarian Illumination warehouse downtown," he lied to the cops, "and you'll find the federal agents." Gwiiisteroni watched with some amusement as the cops all grabbed their weapons and ran off to find their federal colleagues. "What?" he said, turning back to Kristen, "could you repeat that?" "I asked if you knew where the feds were being held." "Nope, and I wouldn't tell you if I did." In that case, Kristen thought, they can't be at any of the mob buildings Jimmy knows about. Must be in a safe house. But with all of the houses in Chicago, how would she know which one held the feds? Then she had an idea, and ran off to catch Sanchis before he left with the other cops. Arturo, with a little help from Cannon Ball Jones' brother, Indiana, set up an intricate system of alarms and traps to stop people from getting into or out of the house holding the feds. "This ought to keep 'em busy even if they do find the house," Moncti sneered. "I know how we find the safe house with the feds," Kristen told Sanchis as they walked the streets. "Look for the secret garbage chutes the mob loves." From -> Madmouser "OK, Mikey, he's gone. Here's ten bucks, go put the bomb up there." "THANKS! I'm a-goin'!" Mikey PLANTEd one of Saints's "new and improved" models in the office of CB Jones while he was out to lunch (isn't he always?) Just as CB started back from Chez Chez, he heard a not so dull roar, thinking that he could now get a story that outsold that Grossi dame, he ran in the direction of the sound, upon seeing where it had come from, he burst into tears. His whole office had been detonated, all the politically correct articles that he had ever written (most of them were the only copies and some were plagiarized) were in little bits, or burning, or both and then some. "I'm gonna get that asshole!" muttered CB. From -> Homey The Clown Mikey ran in an alley and burst out laughing. Ten dollars to do that simple job! "Haha!" he said to himself. "I love destruction, and lunch!" Cannon Ball heard some squeaking in the alley, and decided to see if it was one of his reports screaming. It wasn't, it was a kid laughing, holding ten dollars in his hand! Since this was the only person to blame, CB screamed angrily as he ran down the alleyway to kill the kiddy. From -> Zork Pendragon Cannon Ball rushed at Plantini, then stopped. "Wait a sec," he thought to himself (since there was no one else he could think to), "why on earth would a twelve-year old kid be the mad bomber? That's totally and utterly ridiculous and could never happen in real life." Then he remembered that this was a Dragnet story and continued his charge on the kid. Before CB could hurt Plantini TOO much (but not before he didn't hurt him at all), a voice behind him said, "both of you, freeze!" Homey gulped. Cannon Ball froze. Falconi smiled. "No one double-crosses me, kid. NO ONE!" "You mean, you're behind this mad bomber nonsense?" Cannon Ball began to write down notes. This was the story he needed. Falconi pointed the gun at Plantini. Before he could shoot, he heard, "freeze, Falconi." "Shit," Falconi muttered. Pat "Saints" Johnny entered the alleyway. "The kid works for me now. He's under my protection." From -> Cannon Ball Falconi and Saints argued, pointed guns, and threw Plantini back and forth between them. Cannon Ball Jones continued taking notes. He found out all about Saints' bomb lab, and about the plan and purpose behind Falconi's victims. In reality, Falconi was working for a crooked fed. He didn't know the fed's name because they always met in the dark; but it was one of the Untouchables, and he smelled bad. The fed was trying to clear out the police and the mob and have ultimate control of the city, the crime and the politics. Saints Johnny just took extreme pleasure in killing people who pissed him off and was currently having Plantini bomb people who wore mismatched socks. Cannon Ball kept writing, even as the argument was drawing to a close. He should have escaped while he had the chance. From -> Back Slash Meanwhile, as Cannon Ball listened to these revelations, as Sanchis searched for the captive feds and Arturo planned to free Big Jimmy from the now-empty police station, Kristen dashed back to her office and wrote a dynamite (pardon the pun) front-page story about the bombing of Cannon Ball's office which caused even more people to switch from CB's paper to hers. This is called "adding insult to injury." Arturo slipped into the police station to rescue his pal, Gwiiisteroni. All of the cops were out searching for the feds, so Arturo just had to figure out how to open the cell door. It seems all the cops with keys carried the keys with them when they left. Arturo blasted the lock with his Thompson sub-machine gun, and apologized to Jimmy for the bits of flying shrapnel that impinged upon his flesh. They then walked out of the station in a calm and orderly fashion, whistling the tune to "Hogan's Heroes." The police station exploded just after they left. Gwiiisteroni laughed as Arturo began picking shrapnel out of his (Arturo's) backside. "Your back appears to have been slashed," Big Jimmy chortled. At about the same time that Arturo entered the police station, Sanchis and Grossi discovered a house with a secret garbage chute. Since it was known that mobsters (for some unknown reason) loved to put garbage hatches onto their houses, and since this wasn't a known mob hideaway, Sanchis figured that this might be where the feds were hidden. The plot smiled upon him as he broke in and found the trussed-up mobsters. As he was kicked out of the boy scouts at an early age and never learned anything about knots, Sanchis released the feds by shooting the ropes into powder. Fortunately for them, he was a good shot. Kristen took lots of pictures. They left the house just before it exploded. Kristen turned and took more pictures. Arturo and Jimmy walked back to their offices. Sanchis, Grossi, Pendragon, Roy, Gray, and Viper headed back to the police station. By some quirk of Chicago geography, that caused their paths to meet just in front of a small restaurant named "Tiny's". They all quickly noticed that they were unarmed (Arturo and Sanchis having used all of their ammunition in the rescue attempts), and started to verbally abuse each other for a while. And then, something (probably "Tiny's" exploding) reminded them of the Mad Bomber who had been terrorizing Lawbreaker and Law Enforcer alike. They agreed to a brief truce until they could locate the asshole with the gunpowder fetish. From -> Zork Pendragon "Really, Pendragon, do you honestly expect me to work with that... that... scum?!?" Sanchis cried disgustedly, indicating the mobsters. "Our top priority right now is getting the Mad Bomber," Kevin replied, flashing his shiny new FBI badge to several uninterested passers-by, "and since I pull rank here, I say we truce with the mobsters. Besides, we can break the truce as soon as it gets convenient anyway." "But that would be morally corrupt!" Sanchis argued. "Don't bother me with your fancy city talk here." Arturo and Gwiiisteroni also had their doubts. "I dunno, Art," whispered Jimmy, "there's six of them and two of us." "Yes," Arturo replied, only moderately impressed by Jimmy's display of counting prowess, "but our combined IQ's beat out their combined IQ's." "IQ tests haven't been invented yet, you ninny. Stick to the time period!" Despite the incessant arguing (except from Kristen and "Kill" Roy who were too busy talking to each other about other things which no one could either understand or care about), a brief truce was implemented. Gwiiisteroni returned to his offices, and discovered they had been blown to bits. The only survivor was Don Messier, who had fallen out of a window during the rather precipitous office game of 'Mousetrap'. "So," Gwiiisteroni roared, "the fucker wants to get personal, eh?" In fact, every FBI HQ, police station, and building with a garbage chute (including several hotels which the mob was not even remotely connected with) was soon a fiery cinder. Liam made a few remarks about it, but no one listened to him. From -> Back Slash The mobsters and feds, talking as they walked, discovered that they actually liked each other somewhat. They re-armed at the local Sears-Roebuck warehouse and started searching for the Mad Bomber. "Maybe we should ask Cannon Ball Jones," Jimmy suggested. "He usually seems to know what's going down in this city." "Even if I'm the one who writes about it first," Kristen gloated. Cannon Ball Jones was rapidly learning what was going down. "I'm onto a major scoop here!" he muttered, as he took notes and listened to Falconi and Johnny argue. "The bombs have always been mine, barf-nose," Johnny debated, "and now, I own Mikey as well." "This might be true, fag-breath," Falconi rebutted logically, "but I have a job and an agenda to carry out." "Fuck your agenda, needle-dick," Johnny proposed. "They're my bombs, and I want to have fun with them." "I'm gonna rip your throat out, pudding-packer," Falconi counter- proposed (hypothetically, of course), "and then Mikey and the bombs will be mine." "Why do you have to fight?" Mikey whined. "Why can't you bomb both of your enemies?" "I suppose I could step up bomb production," Johnny conceded. "But Mikey was already running around all of his spare time just planting bombs for me," Falconi said, wondering about this new idea. "How could he find time to plant shit for both of us?" "I'll get my mom to help," Mikey said. "I like to be with my mother, and she's always nervous when I leave the house without her." "The family that slays together, stays together," Cannon Ball said, as Falconi and Johnny shook hands. "I like that." Cannon Ball started pondering what kind of headline he'd use for a story on the alliance of mad bombers. Then, he realized that they were talking again. "Now we just have to kill this reporter," Falconi said, "and we can go about our bombing business." Cannon Ball took notes on the fact that they were approaching to kill him, and then realized that it might be time to leave. "Nothing personal, fella," Patty "Saints" Johnny told CB Jones, as he and Don Falconi tied the reporter in a burlap sack and dropped him into the sewer. "Bombers Drown Reporter," CB said as his sack sunk. "Too bad I won't be able to write about it... glub glub glub..." Falconi, Johnny, Plantini, and Plantini's mom decided to celebrate their new partnership by going out to a nice restaurant and blowing it up. "I heard that!" Arturo yelled, as the explosion echoed up and down the street. Then he noticed by their cringing that all of the others had heard it as well, and probably with more clarity. "It came from that way," cried Kevin, "about two blocks down! Let's go!!" The feds and mobsters ran towards the source of the noise. A crowd had formed, which gave Arturo and Gwiiisteroni people to shove aside, Kevin people to flash his badge at, Kristen people to pose at, and Liam people to smell at. When they arrived, they saw the four bombers running away. Aaron Q. Viper, displaying amazing detective prowess, pointed out that they were they only people moving away. Aaron Sanchis pointed out that he had seen the kid near some other bombings. "Let's get 'em!" Tim yelled, as they charged and drew their weapons. Due to its sheer size, Sanchis' weapon took the longest to draw. Soon enough, the four feds, three mobsters, one reporter, and one cop had cornered the three terrorists and one mom. "We have to bring them to justice," Tim insisted. "That old fart, she's obviously the ringleader." "That's not how we do it," Big Jimmy said. "We blow them away." Before anyone could stop him, he shot Mikey's mom. As her body fell off the dock and into the river, the feds turned their guns on Gwiiisteroni. This gave Arturo a chance to blast Mikey. Mikey floated downriver, and was joined with his mother just above the point where the sack holding Cannon Ball Jones eventually settled. "Enough!" said Kevin. At this point everyone had their guns pointed to cover other people chosen almost at random. "Everybody calm down!!" People started putting away their weapons or training them back on Falconi and Johnny. Kristen put her pink, ladylike sawed-off shotgun back in her purse. Falconi and Liam's eyes met. "NOW!" they yelled. Liam turned his gun on the feds and fired. Tim took a bullet in the groin and dropped to the ground, screaming something about deja vu. The other feds dropped their weapons before he could shoot them. Liam moved over to join the gangsters. "I'm not a federal agent, I'm really a criminal! I've been eliminating the competition on both sides!" He turned to Arturo, Gwiiisteroni, and Messier (while still covering his former comrades) and made them an offer. "Join with me! We can take over the whole Midwest, we can do anything!! We, the criminal Elite! All we have to do is blow away these last do- gooders!!" "Let me start," Don "Shadowstorm" Messier asked, looking at the feds and drawing his weapon. He then spun and shot Liam four times along various points of his digestive system. As Liam fell into the river, Don explained, "I'm not a criminal, I'm really a federal agent! I'm the one who was giving Cannon Ball the times of the shipments, and messing up the other mob activities. I couldn't contact the Untouchables directly, because I knew that one of them was crooked. Part of my job was to find and take out whichever one it was." "So now what happens?" Sanchis asked, and then joined hands with the others so Kristen could take a group photo for her paper's front page. "Do we still have to arrest these mobsters?" "You never had anything on us to begin with," Arturo pointed out. "Our underlings did all the dirty work, and they're all dead." "We can arrest the bombers over there," Viper suggested. "You have no stations left to book us in, or cells left to hold us," Don Falconi said. "And you really shouldn't shoot us, since we're both holding a bunch of bombs; and if we fall, this whole pier and everyone on it goes up in smoke." "Get lost, then," Kevin said, flashing his badge for authority. "Get out of Chicago, and never return, and we won't harass you." Falconi and Johnny accepted that deal. Falconi went off to college so he could get a real job, and Johnny vacationed in England for a while. "What happens between us, then?" Gwiiisteroni asked. "I suggest another truce," Kristen said, batting her eyelashes to appear more reasonable and convincing. "You guys go to work rebuilding the police and law enforcement community of Chicago; and you guys rebuild Chicago's criminal element. Then, in a couple of years, may the best men win." She smiled. "Just remember, I get to write about it." Six months later, while reconstruction of the city's institutions of good and evil were still underway, Prohibition was repealed. Alcohol became legal again, the Untouchables and mobsters were able to retire in comfort, and lived drunkenly ever after.