Disclaimer:I do not own Black Lagoon or its characters, ...but you already knew that.

Author's Note: I hate Shakepreare, and of all his plays, I hate Romeo & Juliet the most. Turning it into a Black Lagoon fanfic is my little revenge for countless English Literature lessons sat listening to boring drivel.

Prologue

Two households, both alike in utter disregard for just about everything,

In somewhat less-than fair Roanapur, where we lay our scene,

From ancient piss-up breaks forth to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands a little bit more dirty than they already were,

From forth the… Oh who gives a shit anyway?

Basically, there's gonna' be some violence.

Act 1 – Scene 1

Roanapur. The Yellow Flag Bar.

Enter SAM and GREG

Sam and Greg, goons of the Capulet family, sat drinking in the smoky bar. As was the norm with any associates of the Capulets, they were bitching about the Montagues.

"Next Montague I see, I'm gonna' fuckin' shoot 'em!" Sam declared, somewhat inebriated.

"Damn right!" Greg agreed, slamming his fist on the table and almost knocking his drink over.

Bao, the owner of the Yellow Flag, looked over at them apprehensively from behind the bar. Montagues and Capulets were bad news. Tension had been rising between the two families over the past few weeks, and a single spark could set the whole powder keg off. He took a reassuring glance at the loaded shotgun he kept beneath the bar, and went back to cleaning glasses.

"In fact," Sam stated obnoxiously, "I might just go over to their mansion, bust their doors down, shoot them up, fuck all their maids, then torch the joint!"

"Damn right!" Greg repeated, giving the table another shuddering bash.

Suddenly, the door swung inwards, and in walked --

Enter ABE and BALTI

-- Abe and Balti, gunmen of the Montague household.

The Capulets turned and glowered at the intruders with contempt. Sam raised his right hand towards them, middle finger pointing solitarily towards the ceiling.

Abe's left eye twitched repeatedly. "Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir?" He asked, which made absolutely no sense whatsoever; however, he had snorted a shit-load of crack earlier, so it was explainable.

"Does this look like my thumb, shit-for-brains?" Sam sneered, raising the proffered finger again.

Abe, who had never been entirely stable at the best of times, quivered with rage, his left eye drifting off lazily to look at a particularly interesting patch of ceiling. In a flash, he reached inside his jacket and withdrew a nasty-looking machine pistol. Balti followed his actions, a pair of pistols springing to his hands.

"You all saw it," Sam loudly announced to all the people in the bar, a grin on his face, "They drew first!"

"Oh crap!" Moaned Bao, diving beneath the counter as the Capulets pulled their own guns.

They fight

The patrons of the bar ran for the exits as bullets whizzed back and forth, those who couldn't make it to the doors sufficed with using the windows instead. The Capulet and Montague goons shot at each other from opposite ends of the room, ducking behind furniture for cover.

The fittings and fixtures of the bar were quickly reduced to woodchips and broken glass. Greg took a bullet to the shoulder, and a shard of flying glass had gouged a gaping scar through Balti's left eye and down the side of his face. Despite the seriousness of their injuries, and the copious amounts blood they were losing, neither faltered in their attacks.

"Eat this, motherfuckers!" Screamed Sam, emptying his gun in the direction of the Montagues.

"What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?!" Abe raved, returning fire. Even he had no idea what he was saying anymore.

"Sorry," Sam yelled back mockingly, "I don't speak crack-head, try English!"

The two sides continued to shoot at each other, until, by chance, a stray bullet smashed the glass of the only other customer who hadn't evacuated when the shooting started.

Enter REVY

The two sides ceased shooting and stared at the tattoo-emblazoned, purple haired woman who was sitting at the bar with her back to them. Neither had noticed her there before, and even with all the carnage around her, she hadn't seemed to have moved a muscle to take cover.

"Hey," She growled dangerously over her shoulder, "I was fucking drinking that!"

The Montagues and Capulets turned back to each other, as if to resume shooting. Revy climbed off the bar stool and faced them. "I can't stand it when people ignore me!" Her guns seemed to materialise in her hands, one pointing at each of the groups.

The trio of opponents stood each other down, a deathly silence hung in the air. The Montagues and Capulets shifted nervously, no longer sure which way they should be pointing their weapons.

Abruptly, the jukebox sprung to life, playing the music from The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. "Fuck this shit!" Grunted Revy, adjusting her aim and shooting the jukebox. After a shower of sparks and some unhealthy noises, the jukebox began to play Pulse of the Maggots by Slipknot. "That's more like it!" Revy grinned, her head nodding to the beat.

The room devolved into chaos. No one was quite sure who shot first, but what was certain was that whatever differences the Montagues and Capulets had, they were quickly forgotten as both sides tried frantically to survive the onslaught of this devil-woman who had appeared in their midst.

Revy stood in the centre of the room, firing wildly in both directions. She easily dodged all shots fired at her, a savage grin fixed on her face.

In desperation, Sam pulled a cylindrical object from his belt, flicked the pin out, and threw it in Revy's direction. "Take this, you bitch!" He screamed.

The object landed at Revy's feet, she recognised it instantly. Grenade. Extra-high explosive. Reacting on instinct, she did a running dive out of the door. Realising what he had just done, Sam leapt out window, dragging Greg with him. The Montagues quickly followed.

From behind the bar, a quiet voice moaned, "Oh no, not again!"

The explosion was spectacular. Gouts of flame burst from the windows, the very roof seemed to lift off. Secondary explosions followed, as the Flag's liquor stocks ignited.

Outside, Revy, uninjured other than a few bruises, watched as the Montague and Capulet gunmen ran for the dockyard, having gone back to shooting at each other. She smiled in anticipation. This was getting interesting.

Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray

The battle had migrated to the docks, goons from both families were running about in the maze of containers, shooting madly at anything that moved. Amongst it all, Revy was having a great time. She hadn't had so much fun since her trip to Japan with Rock.

The fighting was getting downright brutal. Bullets were running out, and the combatants were resorting to melee combat. Throats were cut, eyes were gouged, jaws were smashed. A Montague charged at Revy with a nunchuk, waving it around like Bruce Lee. Revy casually shot him and ran on.

A white sedan sped through the dockyard gate came to a sliding stop in a wide open area, walled by containers. The driver's door opened.

Enter DON CAPULET and LADY CAPULET

"Where's my fucking gun?" Grumbled Don Capulet, rooting around under his seat.

Lady Capulet sighed. "Glove box, dear." She reminded him.

"Ah!" He smiled triumphantly, pulling a scoped 357. Magnum from the compartment.

A second car pulled up in the courtyard, this one black. The door opened, and out climbed --

Enter DON MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE

-- Don Montague, armed with a Desert Eagle equipped with a laser sight attachment.

"Take care hon," Lady Montague told her husband, "Don't do your back in again."

Dons Capulet and Montague faced off in the courtyard, their men spread out around the perimeter, waiting to see what they would do. Revy sat atop a container, watching with interest.

"You dare to flourish your gun at me, fucking Montague?!" Don Capulet demanded.

"Capulet, thou cocksucker!" Don Montague spat at him.

The two men stood with their guns pointed at each other, sweat on their brows, their eyes locked together. The wind blew, and some barbed wire, tangled together like tumbleweed, rolled across the courtyard between them. In the distance, someone was playing a harmonica.

The moment was broken by clicking of high-heels on pavement, and clomping of heavy combat boots.

Enter BALALAIKA, with Henchmen

The Dons faltered. Hotel Moscow was now the most powerful criminal organisation in all of Roanapur, and a visit from the Lady herself wasn't to be taken lightly.

"Oh, don't mind me," Smiled Balalaika, smoking a cigar, "I'm just here to watch."

The pair stared at her in apprehension, unsure of how they were expected to respond.

"No, please, go ahead, shoot each other. Don't stop on my account." There was a look in the Russian's eyes, the kind of look that a cat would have as it plays with a helpless mouse before killing it. The Dons saw it, and slowly lowered their guns and edged back to their cars. "Hmm, maybe some other time then." She sighed.

Balalaika looked around, and saw Revy atop the container. "Hey, Two-Hands." She nodded in greeting.

Revy waved back. "Yo."

"Aren't you meant to be working for the Capulets?" Balalaika asked her.

"EHH?!" Cried Sam in surprise, from among the crowd of goons.

Revy shrugged. "News to me."

"They hired you to bodyguard their daughter, remember?" There was a hard edge on the Russian's voice.

"Dutch might have mentioned something about it." Revy muttered.

"You mean that fucking bitch is supposed to be on our side?!" Sam screamed in exasperation. Balalaika chuckled.

Revy jumped off container and walked over to Don Capulet. "At your service." She said sarcastically.

"Boss! You can't seriously-" Sam started. The Don cut him off with the raise of a hand.

"If the carnage you've caused tonight is anything to go by," Don Capulet smiled, "No dog-fucking Montague is going to get within a mile of my daughter alive."

"I aim to please." Said Revy disinterestedly, spinning a gun around on her finger.

"Now, it's about time I took you to meet her." He held open to door of his car.

"Taxi service," Revy nodded, "Nice."

"Be seeing you all." Balalaika waved, walking away, a cold smile on her face.

Exeunt all but DON MONTAGUE, LADY MONTAGUE and Family Goons

"Where's Romeo?" Lady Montague asked concernedly, "I don't see him here."

"That useless son of ours!" Her husband thundered. "Instead of upholding our family's honour, he's probable off spending all our fucking money again!"

"No," Lady Montague consoled him, "You don't have to worry about that any more."

"Oh?"

"I hired an accountant to keep his finances in check." She told him. "It surprised me, but Romeo seemed to get along with him quite well."

"An accountant?" The Don asked in surprise. "Where did you find one of them in this pile-of-shit city?"

"It's funny," She mused, "He was recommended to me."

To be continued...