The patrons of the nightclub laughed and joked over the piano music filling the room. Everyone, ranging from fine, young gentlemen to scantily-clad flappers were having a good time, listening to the beautiful, melodic piano music. The music drifted through the crowd, causing heads to turn with its beautiful melody. All conversation in the bar was of this fabulous music playing, with everyone sending compliments to the pianist.

This particular pianist, or in this case, pianists, were two elegantly dressed men. Though you could tragically not see their faces from this viewing angle as their backs were to you, both of them had brilliant wavy black hair, one being a teenager and the other an adult. Both of them were at the top of their health and obviously knew how to play their instrument better than Beethoven and Mozart combined. Dressed in matching tuxedos and capes, they played the keys with astounding grace and dexterity. Though, of course, these two have nothing to do with the story and obviously have no reason to be described so fully.

What was the real center of attention were three men, all dressed in white tuxedos and white fedoras, conversing with four other men with black suits on and grey fedoras. Three of the four grey men held machine guns in their hands and the fourth carried a briefcase.

"Did you bring the stuff?" the man with the briefcase asked the leader of the white-suit men. Said leader nodded in reply.

"You bet your ass we did," he said, holding out a green bottle without a label. The briefcase man took the bottle and examined it closely, causing the white-suit men to tense up. The briefcase man handed the bottle to one of his cohorts, who immediately broke it across one of the tables next to them, causing a loud crash. Of course, no one else could hear the crash over the voluptuous melody of the piano, but that was beside the point. The three grey men raised their machine guns at the white-suited men, who put their hands in the air immediately. The briefcase guy's face contorted with anger as he grabbed the leader of the other group by the shirt collar.

"You said that you'd bring vodka, not seltzer water!" he growled, causing the white suited man to recoil at his bad breath.

"Sorry, it must've slipped my mind," the white-suited man said, his face still relaxed. The briefcase guy dropped his luggage bag and grabbed a knife from his pocket, holding it up to his hostage's throat.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to jog your memory, won't I?" he threatened the white-suited man before swinging back his arm to strike. With that, however, one of the white-suited cohorts put his fingers to his lips and whistled, causing the beautiful, melodic, hypnotic music to end.

Everyone in the nightclub looked around in curiosity as to why the intoxicating piano music stopped and found that both of the pianists were standing up, both of the wielding Tommy-guns. You could now see the sexy men's faces and clearly see the mask on the older man's face. (lol I tricked you guys earlier!) The mask seemed to only enhance his handsome features and caused multiple women to faint on the spot.

The two gorgeous men opened fire on the black-suited group while the white men ducked, allowing the bullets to pass over them. Two of the grey-fedora men fell to the ground, riddled with bullets while the briefcase guy and the last man ducked behind the tables near them. The black-suited man with the other machine gun opened fire on the two pianists, who ducked behind the same table, causing the piano behind them to get blown apart by the fire. At this point the club patrons were all panicking, with several casualties made in the crowd. But we don't care about them so let's go back to the two gorgeous pianists currently firing their Tommy-guns at the remaining grey-fedora men. The briefcase guy had now pulled out his own pistol and began firing it at the teenage pianist.

"Gustave, look out!" the older one yelled, pushing his partner out of the line of fire. This, of course, left him exposed to the bullets and the briefcase-guy fired his pistol straight at the man. However, with amazing reflexes and agility, the man stuck his fist out at the incoming bullet and seemed to cause it to change its course to the left. Upon further inspection it had seemed to be knocked to the side by the diamond ring he was wearing. The masked man then thrust his hand under his cape and pulled out a rose and a pistol of his own. Putting the rose in his mouth and the pistol in his other hand, the man jumped over a fallen table and began firing both weapons, dodging the incoming fire by the other two men.

"Such grace!" the briefcase man exclaimed as his cohort was shot down by the Tommy-gun. Before he knew it he was knocked to the ground by the masked man and had a pistol aimed at his face.

"Please, sir, have mercy!" the briefcase man exclaimed to his assailant. "I'm just trying to make a living in this time of Prohibition!"

The masked man stared at him, emotionless. Only one eye was visible behind the white mask that covered his handsome face as he spit the rose in his mouth onto the man before throwing down the Tommy-gun. Then, the pianist slipped his hand under his cape on more time, never taking the pistol off of the other's face. In his hands was a pair of sunglasses.

"I'm sorry," the masked phantom said, putting the sunglasses over his mask. "But I'm going to have to prohibit your life privileges."

*Bang*