"Fame"

The Irish Mobs were one of the oldest organized crime groups in the country, and Packie was proud to say that the McReary family were among the legendary factions of Liberty City. But because of his violent and alcoholic father, their fame quickly went stumbling out of glories of heaven and into the grimy muck of hell. Other crime associations soon after scrambled to assume top position like cockroaches. Nowadays, the McReary were lucky to gain mention in any media source.

"Hey Gordon, check out page A10," Packie instructed as he folded his newspaper in half.

"Huh?" Gordon stopped clipping coupons from the magazines. "A10?"

"What? You going deaf? Yes, I said A10."

"Oh, shit, where's…" Gordon trailed off as he started lifting up the scattered mess that was once the Sunday edition of the newspaper. He brought his own paper over while Packie was going through his family's set. Minutes went by until Packie got annoyed with the constant sound of paper shuffling.

"Fucking Christ - here!" He tossed the section at Gordon's face. The other man took it and held it extremely close to his face. Packie sighed with annoyance. "I thought you said you were gonna get glasses."

"I don't need glasses," Gordon insisted as he squinted his eyes. "Ummm..."

"Yeah, you need glasses and Gerry's told you, too. About a million times. I'm surprised you haven't accidentally shot anyone because you couldn't see what you were shooting at."

"Shut up, Packie! My eyes are fine, dammit. Now what am I supposed to be looking at?"

Packie snatched the paper out of his hands and started reading the article out loud. "Recent strings of hijackings have brought high alert among Liberty City police enforcements. Eye witnesses suggest that members of the Irish Mob are responsible for the wave of criminal activities, most involving car jacking."

Gordon watched as Packie carefully set aside the newspaper on a nearby counter. Once he was settled, an awkward silence developed in the kitchen. Minute went by until Gordon finally asked, "So?"

Packie gave him a look that suggested that he was possibly insane. "Didn't you just hear a word I said? That shit was our doing and the media's starting to pay us attention again!"

"Jesus, Packie, that clip was underneath a glossy 8x11 ad for next week's new episode of Republican Space Rangers. And besides, it's not like they directly named us as the perpetrators. There's lots of white people who dress in green and who do carjackings. We start to look alike over time, y'know?"

Packie scowled and jabbed a finger at him. "You don't appreciate anything, do you? I swear you exist just to drive me up the goddamn wall!"

He got up from his seat and slammed the chair against the table as he stormed out of the room. "I'm diving headfirst into the chop. Don't bug me unless the house is under fire or something."

Gordon grumbled as he started cleaning up the table. Sure, he may need glasses, but Packie definitely needed a brain.

Author's note: It's never stated anywhere in canon that Gordon has vision problem. I just threw that in here because hey, it's fan fiction.