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| Sunday, January 3rd, 2010 |
| Issue: 9 |
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Editor: Mika |
| "We got Cookies" |
Aldarion |
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This week the people of Illinois witnessed a large shoot-out. In the early morning, the sun low above the horizon, the well known crime family Gentlemen of Fortune was attacked. Like gentlemen, all members wore suits and like gentlemen, all members refused to run in public. Most members had lots of money in their pockets, hence they were known as Gentlemen of Fortune. However, this also seemed to attract others and that is the suspected reason of this shoot-out. After five minutes, the shoot-out came to an end, leaving behind the dead bodies of the members. The suits stolen, the money taken. The attackers had to get trough half a meter of bullets (over one-hundred thousand bullets were fired) and that certainly wasnt easy. However, officer Anderson and officer Johnston were late. Too late.
The building of the crew, which gave home to about fifteen members was set on fire, leaving it completely useless. The amount of crime families used to steady over the time and now that this family was gone from the streets, this seemed to be the perfect chance for a new crew to pop up. Soon, a new building was occupied by another crew. A large text hang at the front of the building saying, Darkside. It was soon rumored that this crew had cookies, lots of cookies and several witnesses stated, We saw phaetons driving to the building, full of cookies, there was just enough room for a driver. We think its hardly a surprise that this crews catchphrase is, We got cookies.
A slowly driving, two percent damaged Duesenberg entered the street. The driver worked for a local newspaper, the Bootleggers Buzz. He stopped in front of building that was just occupied by a new crew and quickly opened the cars door. He ran towards the front door of the building and shove a package under the door. The reason he did this so fast was the place where he had parked his car, on a public parking lot. There was a high risk that his car would get stolen. It didnt happen. When he was just about to enter his car, a Beauford entered the street driving way over normal speed, leaving a trail of paper money in the air. The four guys in the fast driving, averagely heated vehicle, waved and shouted to him, but he couldnt recognize anyone. Two police cars were hunting the four, who were just about to successfully finish an organized crime.
The next morning the writer entered a café, it was the place where he was supposed to meet the boss of the new crew. Right before he stepped into the building a blind man was beaten up, at least, that was what the attacker tried to achieve. The man was apparently used to this as he easily knocked out his attacker. The writer entered the building with a smile, and ordered a coffee. Right on time, the crewboss arrived. The man, who introduced himself as VivaLaJos, boss of Darkside, immediately offered some cookies to the writer, which he kindly accepted. VivaLaJos started the story telling hed seen a new building for sale, it offered place to about fifteen members and it was a bargain really, so he decided to buy it.
To the writer, it was clear that he was very happy and when he had drunk some of his coffee, the crewboss told how he felt about this, great, my first day and I always dreamed about one. So, Illinois really is the place where dreams come true! VivaLaJos also admitted that he did plan to change the name but didnt know to what, not yet, I have plenty of time to decide, because we are in a little bit of dept and changing name cost 1.2 mil. We suspect its because of the cookies, which might attract other crews in these hungry times. After the crewboss ordered another coffee, he continued saying that he planned to expend Darkside. He wanted it to become an established crew, a known name and together with that he also showed some interest in a Bullet Factory. The was something that did seem to worry him, so the writer asked and VivaLaJos said, it's for sale, but no rush, only for a good price because i don't mind to keep the crew. After that, the writer kindly thanked VivaLaJos, shook his hand, paid the bill and left to the office of the Buzz.
At the end of the day he delivered his article on the desk of the editor. He had written it in a different style, one he hadnt seen in any newspaper before. He sat down at his desk and one could clearly see he was worried, but then he seemed to realize it wasnt down to his article, it depended on the people that read the newspaper as a whole. He took his coat, walked down the stairs, opened the front door and disappeared into the dark night.
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