They say if you walk down the streets of Norrisville, you could find almost anything. However, what they don't tell you is that you'll probably only find drug dealers, bums, whores, and someone looking to put a knife in your gut. If you did go down these streets then you'd better pack some serious heat wherever you went. Such was the case of one of the town's residents.
A young man of about twenty-one with short, greased back purple hair found himself walking down the dimly lit sidewalks of Norrisville one evening before turning into a back alley where a small neon sign was lit like a Christmas tree. The sign read "Cabot House" in bright red letters inside a blue oval. He entered the bar to the smell of cheap booze, cigarette smoke, and the mild stench of vomit. He looked around the bar room before spotting an average-looking man in a pinstripe suit sitting in one of the back booths. He walked up to the booth and looked the man over before coughing to get the man's attention.
"Yeah?" The man asked.
"Excuse me, but you wouldn't happen to be Tom Dover, would you?" The purple-haired young man asked.
"Yeah, what of it?" The man now known as Tom asked.
"I just have a message for you."
"And what would that be?"
"Boss McFist sends his regards," The purple-haired man said before taking out a pair of pistols from his coat before pumping Tom full of hot lead to the chest and head. After emptying over fourteen rounds of ammo into the unsuspecting man, the purple-haired man lifted his still smoking guns to his face and blew the smoke away from the barrels. The second he did so, Tom's now bloody and disfigured corpse fell forward. Stone dead.
The purple-haired man turned around from the scene and looked to see the stunned faces of some of the bar patrons. Giving them a quick look, the patrons went back to what they were doing as the man walked over to the blonde, now scared, barkeep and took out his black leather wallet. He took out a few notes that added up to about seventy-five dollars cash and placed them on the bar.
"Sorry for the mess," The man said before replacing his wallet in his pocket and walking out of the dingy bar.
His name was Randy 'Clean Kill' Cunningham, and the only way you got to know him was if you were on his hit list. You see, Randy was a hitman, and a damn good one at that. While he took jobs on the side every now and again, his main flow of cash came from the undisputed ruler of Norrisville's underworld: Hannibal Mcfist, AKA Boss McFist.
After leaving the scene of his latest kill, Randy made his way to his next stop for the night. The place in question was his boss's private tower, from which he ruled his empire with an iron fist. Randy had been working for Hannibal for nearly six years now, and while Mcfist paid him better than most of his other clients had in the past, that didn't necessarily mean he liked the shmuck. Hannibal Mcfist was arrogant blowhard with a temper to boot. When the Kingpin of Norrsiville wasn't screaming about something, he usually sat in his office either counting his money or looking down from his tower at his criminal empire.
While Hannibal's rise to power was shrouded in mystery, what was known about was that before he was a mob boss, he was a soldier in the Great War during his younger years. During one bloody battle in those accursed trenches, Mcfist lost arm when a hail of machine gun fire shredded it off at the shoulder. when he came back from the war, he discovered that his father, who was the head of Mcfist Iron Works, had lost the company during a buyout from a rival corporation, thus leaving the family broke. This of course left Hannibal with only one option: if he wanted to survive, then he needed to get dirty. In three years' time, Hannibal Mcfist became the most feared name in Norrisville.
Cops, lawyers, and judges were all on Mcfist's payroll, even a few senators owed a few favors to the Kingpin of Norrisville for helping them get their seats at D.C. Norrisville may have a mayor, but everyone knew that Mcfist was the real power in this town. Randy honestly didn't care, so long as the one-armed gangster paid him handsomely for his services, then he'd keep working for him. Since he had signed on with Hannibal, Randy had gunned down a good number of rival gangsters, good cops, rats, snitches, and few federal lawmen here and there. When Mcfist wanted a job taken care of, Cunningham was at the top of the list of people he'd call to handle it.
The doorman at the tower's entrance opened the door, tipping his hat to the hitman as he did. Randy had been to Mcfist's tower enough to be known by the staff at this point to know that he didn't waste his time with speaking to them. Randy wanted to keep his visits with his boss short and sweet so he could enjoy his earnings in peace. As the hitman stepped inside the elevator, the operator wordless pulled the level to bring Randy to the top floor where Mcfist's office was. Once he arrived, the young killer stepped out of the elevator and into a large room filled statues, paintings and other priceless items that Hannibal acquired during his time as criminal mastermind.
There at the end of the lavished room was a large wooden desk with Hannibal himself sitting on a large leather chair, smoking a cigar while he flipped over his business numbers with his only hand. The Kingpin of Norrisville was dressed in a brown suit with an empty sleeve where his left arm would've been had not been for the war. Yet despite being one appendage short, Mcfist was a muscular man underneath his fine clothing. Randy recalled when his boss beat a cop to death with his only hand before pulling out his eyes and sending them to the poor bastard's daughter at her school. Brutality was Mcfist's calling card, and if you didn't want to receive said card, then it would be in your best interest to stay on his good side.
Standing beside him as always was the mob boss's second in command and chief accountant, Wilhelm Viceroy. Like Hannibal, Viceroy was a mystery—even more so than his boss. What was known about him was that he incredibly gifted with crunching numbers and dealing with huge amounts of money, perhaps that was why Mcfist liked him so much, with Viceroy in charge, not a single penny was lost under his watch. The mob boss's number two guy was dressed in a light purple suit with black dress shoes. While Mcfist still was his nose down to look at the papers before him, his right-hand man was first to see Randy entering room. Viceroy then nudged his boss to his attention before gesturing to him that favorite hitman had returned.
"Ah, Randy, good to see you!" Mcfist greeted "and how is Mr. Dover?"
"Face down in a pool of whisky and blood" the hitman answered as he took a seat at front of his boss's desk
"For a guy who's known as 'Clean Kill Cunningham', you leave quit a mess" Viceroy chided
"That's kinda the point. It's what you call ironic" Randy explained before turning his attention back to Mcfist "anyway, I just came to stop by to collect my dough"
"Of course, my friend" Hannibal replied before looking over to Viceroy "pay the man, would you?"
Mcfist's second in command proceed to hand the hitman a briefcase full of money. Randy opened it to inspect that his payment was all there, but to his surprise, he found something rather interesting within the briefcase.
"This is double the payment we agreed on, boss" he pointed out before adding on "I didn't know you cared"
"Consider it as my way of saying thank you" Hannibal answered, "Tommy was about to sell my latest shipment of weapons to Don Toffee, and that would've cost me a ton of money"
While Hannibal was at the top of the food chain in Norrisville, there were still others who wanted to knock him off his throne. One such person was the mysterious Don Toffee, a mob boss who went from a leg breaker in New York to a Don in Echo Creek, California, where he ruled the drug, gambling, arms and racketeering in the entire south west area of the US. It wasn't just Toffee who wanted Mcfist's territory, but others like Boss Rippin from Middleburg, Stan Pines, the Kingpin of the Northwest, and a shadowy figure known only as the Octopus. These men and more all had their eyes set on Mcfist's kingdom, but if they wanted it, they'd have to pry it from the mobster's cold dead hand to do so.
"Well thank you for your bit of charity, boss" Randy thanked "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to spend my paycheck at one of your lovely establishments"
"So, in other words, I'll be getting some of that money back soon" his boss joked before asking "if I might ask, where are you heading to?"
"Does it matter? You own all the clubs and casinos in this city" his hitman pointed out "But if you must know, I was thinking that I might stop by Snake Eyes tonight"
"Snake Eyes, eh?" Hannibal questioned curiously "and why that place in particular?"
"Let's just say that I enjoy the atmosphere of the place" Randy replied with a smirk "be seeing you, boss."
"See y'a around, Cunningham" Mcfist regarded
With that, the hitman made his way back to the elevator. However, what he failed to see as he left was the sinister smirk on Mcfist's face as he took another puff from his cigar.
-Snake Eyes Casino, Half An Hour Later-
Stepping out of his cab and straightening his suit and tie, Randy looked up at the large neon sign of the Snake Eyes Casino. The sign showed a pair of dice rolling into the head of a snake and landing on the club's namesake. Smiling a bit, Randy walked toward the front doors and was let in by one of the club's bouncers. The casino was almost beyond words in terms of design and layout. There was everything from Blackjack Tables, Roulette Wheels, Bacharach, High-Stakes Poker, and a few slot machines for the cheaper gamblers.
And in the center of the entire floor was a majestic stage for the many acts that the club hosted nightly. And that was the reason he was here. Randy walked toward the lounging area in front of the stage and took a seat in one of the soft red chairs. A waiter from the bar came up with a small drinks menu on a tray and handed it to Randy, who promptly put it back on the tray.
"Scotch on the rocks," He said simply. The waiter nodded his head and promptly left the hitman to himself.
As he looked at the stage, he glanced down at his wristwatch. Two minutes to ten. Should start at any moment. Soon, the waiter returned with Randy's drink just as the lights began to dim and a spotlight shown on a man at center stage.
"And now, ladies and Gentlemen," The man announced with a showman's smile, "We present to you the biggest star in the universe. None other than Miss Heidi Weinerman!" He proclaimed before he and the audience applauded as the spotlights seemed to become more focused on center stage as the curtains parted and standing in the center of the stage was a beautiful young woman in a ruby-red dress with fiery ginger hair to match.
"Hit it, boys," She said in a low, seductive whisper as a bass began to pluck out a rhythm, followed by a soft drum beat.
"Love makes me treat you the way that I do
Gee baby ain't I good to you?~
There's nothing too good for a boy that's so true
Gee baby ain't I good to you?~"
She sang with the voice of an angel as she walked down the steps of the stage into the lounge area, seeming to serenade the guests.
"I bought you a fur coat for Christmas
a diamond ring
a Cadillac car
and everything~
Love makes me treat you the way that I do
Gee baby ain't I good to you?~
Love makes me treat you the way that I do
Gee baby ain't I good to you?~"
As she sung, she swayed over to where Randy was sitting and locked eyes with the young man.
"There's nothin too good for a man that's so true
gee honey ain't I good to you?~
I know how to make a good man happy
I'll treat you right
with lots of lovin just about every night~
Love makes me treat you the way that I do
Gee baby ain't I good to you?~"
She moved around the back of his chair and placed her slender and delicate looking arms around his neck as she sang into his ear.
"I served you candlelight dinners
some breakfast in bed
took your car to be serviced when your engine went dead~
Love makes me treat you the way that I do
Gee baby ain't I good to you?~"
She let go of the young hitman and made her way back toward the stage, finishing off her song.
"They got me paying taxes for what I gave to you
Gee baby ain't I good to you?~"
As the music died down and the fiery redhead retook her place on stage, the crowd erupted in applause for the woman's performance as the curtains closed and the band began to play some generic hall music to keep the atmosphere lively. Finishing off his drink and leaving a ten spot for the waiter that served him, Randy got up from the lounge chair and made his way through the crowd to backstage where he passed some performers getting ready for their acts. He soon came to a door with a gold star with Heidi's name engraved on it. Giving a small grin, he gave a light rap at the entrance to the performer's dressing room.
"Who is it?" Came the voice of the redhead.
"It's Clark Gable," Randy said with a smirk, doing his best impression of the movie star, which in all honesty wasn't that good. Randy could hear a light giggle coming from the other side of the door.
"Come on in, Randy. The door's unlocked," The redhead said from the other side before Randy took the knob and opened the dressing room door.
Randy entered the dressing room with a smile on his face. The walls were covered in red, a large sofa on the left side of the room looking directly at the large make-up mirror that was on the other side. Right at the back was a large opening cover with some clothes hanging on it.
"Did you enjoy the show?" asked Heidi from behind the curtain.
"I did, but there was far too many people if you ask me." replied Randy as he tried to imagine Heidi behind the curtain.
"Usually it's a good thing when there are a lot of people for your act." said Heidi as she raised her arm high enough for Randy to see.
"You know what I mean. I just finished another job for the big boss, hopefully this'll convince him to loosen my leash." said Randy taking a seat at the sofa.
"You should know better than anyone that once Hannibal gets his hands on something he wants he doesn't let go." said Heidi as she finished changing.
"Enough about the big man, why don't we talk about us?" asked Randy as Heidi stepped out of the curtain.
She wore a long black dress that seemed to hit her body as a second skin, she had medium height heels, long sleeved jacket on top of her dress and a long red scarf around her neck.
No matter how many times Randy laid eyes on the redheaded beauty, she always knew how to knock his socks off. Randy smiled as he got up and walked up to Heidi, a small smile was adorning his face.
"What idea did you have this time?" asked Heidi
"A friend of my dad's has a place out of town, he's out on a holiday. We could spend some time there. Think of it like a weekend getaway." said Randy trying to convince Heidi.
Heidi smiled at Randy. Her smile always seemed to bring out the best in him. He had to admit that he had done a lot of messed up things over the years, he had killed many that deserved it, but many more that did not. Deep down he wished to be able to undo what he did but he knew that that was just a dream. The only forgiveness that he would get in this life was if the woman before him gave it to him.
"Sounds romantic, but I have plans this weekend," said Heidi sadly
Randy looked away, a little sadness entered his heart as he processed her words.
"But we can still spend the night together," said Heidi giving Randy a kiss on the cheek.
Randy perked up a bit at that and smiled at the girl he cared for.
"Come on. Let's get out of here," She said before taking his hand and guiding him out the door and out the back way of the nightclub. Little did they know, they were being watched by a large figure looming in the shadows.