I went ahead and started it.

Not quite sure when I'll update.

Probably whenever I feel like it.

Like my others.

Speaking of, I'm nearly done with From the Journal of V. Fries' second chapter.

As for This Maniac, I haven't gotten started on the next chapter. (I think it's four)

I've taken up enough time you could be using reading.

Hope you like it.

c:

Reviews are nice, just saying.

Dawn of the Dummy

Arnold Wesker fixed his tie, before slowly walking into the airport. A small duffel bag was on his shoulder. He looked around, slowly, unsure. Gotham, lord did this place bring back memories. Horrible memories. He could feel himself sweat. He didn't want to be here. No, he could be down in Mexico, sipping on margaritas and enjoying a sunset with a beautiful Mexican girl. He could, there was still time.

"Arnie?" Arnold let out a soft noise, almost a squeak. Turning, he saw a tall, lanky man in a suit. The tall man removed his hat, and smiled.

"Muh-mugsy." Arnold smiled, "It's, er, it's good to see you." Arnold's grip tightened around the strap of his duffel bag. He began to sweat more, and pulled a silken handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed at his balding head. Looking at Mugsy, he saw two others appear on either side of him. One a man, the other a woman. Both were large-set individuals, and looked more than capable of holding their own against at least three men.

"Rhino, Moose." Mugsy motioned to the two newcomers. Arnold smiled, nodding to both, who smiled.

"Your father was a good man. Shame about the, er, accident." Moose looked around at the crowd, none seemed to pay attention to her. Rhino shook his head in sorrow.

The quartet continued on towards the luggage pick-up in silence. Arnold felt sick, and took in a large breath.

"Arnie, you alright?" Mugsy placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah I'm, I'm alright." Arnold sighed. Rhino and Moose gathered his luggage, and they continued on outside. There, a limo and a corvette waited. The largest of the group tossed the luggage into the latter, and Moose held out her hand.

"You're duffel bag, Mr. Wesker." Arnold's grip tightened more.

"That won't be necessary, Moose." Moose blinked and shrugged. She and Rhino climbed into the corvette while Mugsy held the door for the limo open. Arnold climbed inside, and leaned against the seat, and closed his eyes. His hand never left the duffel bag's strap.

[oo]

"Arnie, are you sure you're alright?" Mugsy looked back at him from the driver's seat. Arnold twitched, startled.

"Yeah, Mugsy. I'll be fine." His eyes looked down at the duffel bag.

"If you say so, we'll be there soon." Arnold nodded, as a shaky hand reached for the zipper of his bag.

[oo]

The limo pulled up behind the corvette. Moose and Rhino were currently pulling out the luggage. A small group stood around the abandoned house, waiting for their new leader. A low murmur was heard as Mugsy opened the door and Arnold stepped out. Cradled in his arm was a puppet dressed in a gray pinstriped suit. A hat was perched on his head and what looked like a toy tommy gun was laid across it's lap. A large scar fell on it's left cheek.

"What are you mugs lookin' at? Neva' seen a guy gefore?" The puppet snapped, small green eyes swiveled and glared at the crowd. "You getta' get used to it, 'cause Scarface is runnin' dis joint!" Arnold remained still as Scarface spoke. "Got'am's gonna know my name, and dey'll learn ta fear us! Anyone got a problem wit' dat?" The crowd looked at each other. Mugsy, Moose and Rhino looked horrified.

"Mr. Wesker, what's the deal?" one man spoke, taking a step forward. "What's with the dummy?" Arnold swallowed.

"Dummy? Dummy! Who you callin' a dummy!" Scarface roared, keeping a glassy glare on the man. He chuckled, nervously.

"C'mon, boss. Loose the dummy."

"Tell me, goy, who you t'ink is the dummy, and who you t'ink is the goss?" Scarface growled.

"Well, Arnold's the boss, and -" a shot was fired. Arnold looked tense, as a small handgun smoked from his hand. Scarface grunted and turned his attention away from the dead con.

"Now, I ask you mugs! Who is the goss, and who is the dummy?" There was silence. "Well?"

"You're the boss, Scarface," Mugsy finally spoke. "Right, boys?" The group nodded, afraid they would meet the same fate as the dead man. Scarface nodded his head.

"Good. Now, goys, lets talk gusiness."