* CHUD Mafia RPG - Chapter 6 - Page 4

stakeout

'Seven is perfect. What's your address? I'll pick you up.'

PROTECTION

Paulie shouts "Hey Green Mile!" and unloads with both his 45s at the black man.

Questioning

Damnfuckin' Chink, Dino curses. Hell, he's fuckin' useless anyway. He then closes the Chinaman's eyelids. Hope you get to meet Buddha or whatever the fuck you worship.

Dino's just a muscle and planning isn't his forte. "Mr. Bruno, what do you think we should do next?"

stakeout

Frank strolls out of the bank and across the road, straight to the cafe and Romeo and Virgil's table. Frank grins.

'Looks like I have a date tonight, fellas. Don't wait up.'

PROTECTION

"I ain't no doctor but it ain't lookin' good."

Paulie stands and walks over to the pair.

"Make it slow, and make sure I'm in on it."

Administration

Othello looks at his comrades in arms.

"Tivoli did say something interesting while we were in the van. He said that 'it was Ms. Charlie Chan that offed the boss' and that Steadman was clueless. I agree with that. That's why I jumped ship. He also said that 'Roman and the rest of his crew' were 'gonna catch hell when they find out who the yellow broad' was in with. It was about then we got broadsided."

Administration

McCready smiles wistfully and looks out the window.
********
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;*
I have spread my dreams under your feet;*
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams. *

He sighs.

"A terrible beauty is born," he says.

Questioning

Dino grabs a big sack and easily bags the dead Chinese.

"Fuckin' Chinese-to-go," he snickers.

To lessen the odds of being traced, he picks up his cell to call for assistance. However, the moment he picks it up, his hand begins to tremble. He almost drops the phone as though he has sensed something wrong. Jesus, Dino, calm yourself, you fuckin' pussy.

As he dials Manny's number, he thinks of Tony. Wonder what that fuckin' galoot is doin'?

Manny is a stealthy carjacker who owes Dino favors. Lots. He orders Manny to come to Capella Manor immediately and to pick up a body.

"Do whatever you want with it," Dino says. "Just don't eat it," he laughs while his hand continues to shake.

The Stakeout
The Cafe

"Oh we have a date too, with blueprints of the bank. Everything should be in there, we'll try to figure it out, but try to work on the girl nonetheless. Or did you hit on the guy?", Virgil says with a wink to Frank.

Administration

Roman steps out of the vehicle. He summons over a couple of guards.

"Keep your guns on the trunk." Roman pops the trunk to reveal the captured, still unconscious goons. "Show our guests to their accomodations."

The muscle hauls off the prisoners. Roman surveys the mansion and heads in to pour a drink and get the skinny on everyone else.

stakeout

Frank steps out of car and stares at the car.

'Nice.'

He walks away and into the mansion.

Administration

Othello leads the mooks carrying the two bound men to the basement. Once tied to two chairs and facing each other, Othello looks at one of the enforcers. "Bring me a meat fork, a carving knife, and a sharpening steel from the kitchen. Oh and some rye bread and a nice dark mustard. I havent had lunch yet." The two men look at each other and leave.

He turns his gaze to the bound thugs who have been awakened bt their travels. "Boys we have some chatting to do."

[double post]

ADministration

One of the kitchen staff brings down the requested items on a silver platter.

He focuses his attention on the thin blond mook and begins sharpening the blade.

"You know my people used to sharpen there teeth to make this process easier. Savages."

He bends down making sure that the man's ankle is securely fashioned to the chair. The blade caresses the man's slacks at shin level and the material falls away. Othello stands and admires the knife.

"Ahhh German steel." He looks at the man. "Never by a knife made in Pakistan."

He takes a white linen napkin and tucks it in his collar. One of the plastic ties comes out of his duster pocket and he secures it firmly aboved the calf. His left index finger thumps the muscle on the man's leg.

The long coat gets hung in the corner. The black sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows revealing forearms corded with muscle. And he starts towrds the man with knife and fork.

His tongue clucks."Oh...mise enplace, mise en place." He turns and prepares two slices of bread with mustard on both using the carving knife.

Paulie holsters his pistols and circles Nico like a shark around a bleeding fish. When he finally speaks, it's slowly, deliberately.

"This all coulda been so simple, you know. We sit, we talk, we have a few laughs, you give us the money you owe us, and we're on our way."

He grips the handle of the blade and, holding it tight, smacks Nico across the face. Nico howls in agony. Paulie grabs the back of Nico's head and forces him to look at Tony's body.

"But now, there ain't a president's picture big enough for the bill your buddy just wrote." He pushes Nico's head away and starts pacing again, thinking. He pauses, the walks over and begins rummaging through the desk.

"Now it's a given we're gonna leave here with what you owe us, just as it's a given that the last thing you ever see is gonna be the barrels of my girls here." He stops and pulls out a blank sheet of paper. Taking a pen and setting both on top of the desk, he walks back over to Nico. "The only question is how pretty you're gonna be when the funeral home gets a hold of you." He slides the chair over to the desk and thrusts the pen into Nico's hand.

"Now, autograph that all nice and pretty for me on the bottom there, and I'll make sure you go nice and quick and ready for that open-casket funeral your momma's been dreamin' about."

Administration

McCready shakes his head as he lights another Marlboro, looking around the torture chamber. What he saw disgusted him, and Othello's little show made him want to vomit.

He wanted blood, yes, and revenge, yes, but this...this was going too far.

He turned to Roman.

"What happened to honor and common decency? From the looks of it, your men have been having quite a time. Tactics like these make us no better than the Triads. This is not the way we used to do things, mate. This is not the way things are supposed to be done."

Stakeout
The Mansion

Virgil overhears what Forbes is saying and can't help throwing in his grain of salt.

"Christ, you sound like a guy that'd ask for an encore after someone fucked him in the ass. What do you think we should do to these guys? Get them a suite in the fucking Ritz? This is EXACTLY the way it works. Someone fucks you, you fuck him badder. You of all people should understand that. Only thing I'm dreamin' of right now is catching that motherfucking hero cop, and you can believe that if I did, what Othello is about to do would look like a Disney flick. Get some guts, or get out of here."

With that, he turns his attention away from Forbes and onto the blueprints, motioning for Romeo to join him.

Administration

"Gentlemen, if you don't mind I am trying to prepare a meal. If my eating habits offend you Mick, I advise you to leave."

Administration

"Fuck you. Fuck all of you. Fuckin' wankers. I fuckin' caught one of these blokes, I should be the one who gets to do the fuckin' questioning. But it's too fuckin' late for that now isn't it, Paulie? You gonna cut some onions to go with that fuckin' stake, huh? You know, the kind that fuckin' dissolve in the pot? Gonna make some fuckin' pasta sause, maybe? The fact of the fuckin' matter fuckin' is, you fuckin' wankers, is that I am sick and fuckin' tired of bein the odd man out in this fuckin' game of politics. I do things my fuckin' way and my fuckin' way only. You fuckin' got that? And hey. Shards. Yeah, you Maguire lookin' motherfucker over there? You wanna talk about gettin fucked in the ass and takin' it? If you had any balls at all, you'd be out lookin' for your motherfuckin' hero cop instead of sitting around planning some god knows fuckin' what. As for getting fucked up the ass, I'm sick and fuckin' tired of takin it from you fuckin' assholes. This cannbalistic motherfucker can switch sides like it's a piece of fuckin' cake, I try and do that, as well as fuckin' help your boy out of a fuckin' rough spot back in fuckin' Chinatown...look at my fuckin' face. And yes, Shards, I fuckin' KNOW you got fucked up. I sympathize. I liked my fuckin' good looks, too. All I'm sayin' is, I went through a fuckin' lot of trouble for you, and I want some fuckin' gratitude. Just a fuckin' bit. A bit. That's all I fuckin' ask. And if you want to know about fucking people back, I can show you a few things you've never fuckin' seen. Only thing is, I choose not to fuckin' use them because it is not the way things are done. It's just not. So fuck you everybody. Goodnight."

Grumbling, he turns and walks outside, slamming the door.

Stakeout
The Mansion

"Anyone understood what he said? I only caught a bunch of "Fuck"."

Virgil goes back to working on the blueprints, but he keeps in memory the fact that Forbes called him "Shards". "Just you wait", he thinks, "just you wait..."

Administration

Dino's cell vibrates and gets a text message saying that Manny's at the gates. He then grabs a walkie-talkie and explains to the guard at the gates who he is.

Dino then lifts the bodybag like a suitcase and exits through the front door.

PROTECTION

Paulie picks up the signed piece of paper, folds it neatly, and puts it inside his coat. When his hand comes back out, the 45 is there and full of malice.

"Besides, I know a pretty decent forger and I got a cousin in the records department downtown."

He puts the barrel right up to Nico's heart.

"I've always wanted to own a strip club."

BANG!

Administration

As he stalks through the east wing, cursing himself and the men in the basement, McCready passes the man called Dino, whom he recognizes from their time together in Chinatown.

He puts two fingers to his forehead and salutes, then walks out to the balcony.

Out on the balcony, Forbes sighs as he lights up another cigarette.

You're the fuckin' wanker, here, boyo, he thinks. They're all looking for an excuse to whack you, and you just keep pissing them off...

He wishes he were home with Marie, then shakes his head. Roman had the upper hand, what with those letters and all. Besides, this was the life he chose and the life he lead. There was only one guarentee. He was never going to see heaven again.

Administration

Othello places the blade against the calf muscle and draws blood. He inhales sharply through his nose.

"Ahhhhh. Wait a thought occurs to me. This is good but not perfect. You see my tradition says that if I eat part of my enemy I will absorb him. The only thing you worthless dregs are good for is eating your legs because you run like girls."

He stands and buries the knife in the chair between the guys legs. "What I really want is the head of the man who sent you. A soup from that would be lovely. If you tell me everyhting you know, I won't eat you from the ankles up. How's that sound to you?"

He puts his face withing centimeter's of the one with the cut calf.

"And talk fast because I am hungry..."

Administration

Roman walks out onto the balcony greeting Forbes with a bottle of Jameson 1780 and two thick glasses. He closes the door behind them.

"Despite our history...you are the only guy I completely trust at the moment." Roman says pouring triples into their glasses. Roman stands looking out on the grounds as guards and muscles clamor about in the darkness seeing to their tasks. He takes a mouthful of the 15 year old whiskey and slams it back hard stoking the fire in his gut. He pours another.

"I need you to keep your eyes on these old-country gents, Forbes. A fucking bank heist? You and I were WALKING gold bullion out of military installations at 19. I do not like what I'm seeing." Roman takes another draught of the Irish Instigator. Roman starts to speak again but before he can utter the first syllable a young turk named Peter Maranzalla busts through the balcony doors.

"Sir, the nigg...um... the Redman guy is eating the two guys you brought in here." Petey stutters out. Roman wonders briefly if he shouldn't have chugged that much whiskey in so short a time.
"Excuse me?" Roman waits for the obvious misunderstanding. "Boss, he is about to eat, E-A-T, that Calabrese you brought in here. Eat like a Prosciutto and peppers. The guys on the door are trying not to throw up." Petey looks green.

"Santa Maria!," Roman turns to Forbes "I got Dino slicing pricks up, I got you going crazy during a business meeting, and now Othello is cannabalizing people in the house." Roman picks up his glass and slams it into the wall 4 inches from Petey's head. He doesn't flinch. Roman stalks inside and down the stairwell to the basement.

Administration

Roman descends the staricase to the basement. Two mooks are leaning against their knees.

"What are you two doing? Preparing for your dates tonight, maricones?" Roman flings the door open with a slam to see Othello open-mouthed in the man's face.
"Jesus Christ." Roman stares incredulous at what he's seeing.

[QUOTE]Originally posted by Cap'n Katanga:
[QB]Administration

"Ahh Roman. I was just asking these boys some questions and engaging in a bit of cultural knowledge exchange. Care to join us? I think they were just about to share something."

He glares back at the two green faced prisoners.

Administration

Faster than Othello can track visually, Roman moves forward drawing, what has been up until this point an eccentric ornament, his katana sword. Roman arcs the blade swiftly and silently in front of him. Silence so deafening it permeates the senses hangs for what seems an eternity. The eyes of the goon on the left are wide with terror as the creeping realization of his fate register.

A thin stripe of blood is drawn on his neck as accurate as if it were placed by God. His eyes loll upwards as his senses slowly fade away. With grim finality the 10 pound head that rested on his shoulders tumbles forward.

Roman draws the sword back into striking position. He looks into the eyes of the next man noticing the running urine darkening his pant leg.

"You have 3 seconds to speak." Roman graciously offers the man.

PROTECTION

Paulie nods. "Yeah, this day sure has worked up an appetitie so far."

They hop in the car and head for a good little place Paulie knows pretty well -- he's got a cousin works in the back. On the way, Paulie glances over at Julian. He's been pretty good today, knowing when to take the lead and when to let his best people do their best work. Maybe this ain't gonna be a train wreck after all.

And then there's Tony. "Damn shame," Paulie says. "All the shit he's been through and some trigger-happy mook at some dive strip club takes him out." He shakes his head. "Maybe I'll rename the place Tony's, you know? That way he'll always live on a little bit."

Administration

Roman is satisfied with the deluge of informed and not-so responses coming from goon #2. Roman kicks the head to the guard.

"Have that gift-wrapped and sent to Mr. Weasel. From The Family." Roman looks to Othello and nods his approval.

Administration

"How do you contact him?"

Administration

"Well guess what? You failed and failure upsets my stomach."

He draws his piece, places it against the mooks forehead, lets it rest there for a three count and empties the clip. Brains fly everywhere spattering Othello's suit and the floor behind him. The guard can't hold his lunch in any longer and marinara hits the floor.

Othello holsters the 45, snatches the pager from the table, and stalks upstairs fuming quietly.

Administration

The glass of Jameson still in his hand, Forbes silently looks around the room. He nods to Roman, then to the other two men.

"The Nutty Professor, huh?" he says as he reaches into his jacket for a fresh cigarette. "I kind of like it."

"Mr. Abrizza," he continues, searching for the pack in his heavy military jacket, "Might I have a word with you before you leave? Outside, perhaps?"

He finds the pack of Marborlos. Empty.

"Well, dress me like a girl and put me in a bed with Maggie Thatcher. I've seen some fucked up things in my time but that-" with that he throws the crumpled pack towards the recently deceased thugs, "-just about takes the fucked up cake. Anyone got a fag?"