A/N: Our next applicant is Randak. Good luck.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the bitchin' plot and all the kick ass reviews it's getting. MWAH HA HA HA!!!

The girls working the streets were barely fifteen, if that. Runaways, orphans, crack babies...you name it, they were there. Richards collected his percentage of their earnings every Thursday, to get the gil off the girls before the peek days. He didn't want one of their John's to fuck 'em, kill 'em and rob 'em. That was his money after all. If they ended up dead, it was their own damn fault. But if they got his money stolen, well that just wasn't going to happen. This was a good thing and he wasn't going to lose out at all.

Prostitution was a lucrative business in Old Midgar. Had been since before the plate dropped on Sector Seven. These girls, however, were too young for the Honey Bee. That joint didn't take no one under 18. But, given that Richards himself had certain 'fantasies' involving under age girls, he figured at least a quarter of the male population harbored those secret lusts as well. So, he took the girls to the streets, and made a killing off the merchandise.

"Yo, whatcha got?"

Richards turned to see a very tall, very built man with dark brown hair standing behind him. As most of the Planet's citizens did, he had a weapon strapped to his back. Judging from the sheer magnitude of the sword, Richards figured this guy had to be an ex-SOLDIER, or an ex-ShinRa guard at the least.

"Whatcha looking for?" he asked. "I got anything ranging from school girl, babysitter, Lolita..."

"Any of those will do," the man told him.

Richards smile. "Step into my office," he said leading the way. "We'll hook you up."

The man followed Richards, drawing his sword effortlessly. When Richards turned back around to face him, the man attacked, sheathing the metal monstrosity into Richards' vital organs.

"You don't pimp out little girls, you fucker," the man hissed as Richards coughed up blood. "That ain't right."

Making sure Richards was, in fact, dead, the man returned the sword to the scabbard on his back. He found the safe behind Richards' desk. Casting a low level ice spell, he froze the lock and hit it with the heel of his hand, shattering the metal and ice upon impact. He took the money from the safe and stashed it in a zipper bank bag that had been lying on the desk. He exited the office to see the clean up crew arriving and escorting the young women into vans.

He smiled when he saw his wife leaping out of one of the vehicles. She ran to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely. "How was work?" she asked.

"Good," he said with a grin. "Made a killin'. You?"

"Had a spiritual revelation," she said, rolling her eyes. "That all the money he took from the girls?"

"Yeah," he said tossing it in the air. "Tseng said something about Rufus wanting to us it for the girls to go to school and get better lives instead of being on the streets. He's got a dorm he's setting them up in."

"Good deal," she said with a smile. She kissed him again. "Come on, Randak. We gotta get the kids from daycare."

Randak checked his watched and cursed. "Damn!" he said, tossing the bank bag to Rude as he and Reno came up to them. "We don't wanna have to pay the late fee!"

Nilto waved to the guys. "See ya tomorrow!" she called as Randak grabbed her hand and they hurried away.

Reno placed his hand over his heart. "Oh, my MILF," he sobbed. "Odin, some guys have all the luck!"

"Says the man with the three lovers," Rude said rolling his eyes. He slapped Reno's shoulder. "Come on, let's get these girls to their new home."

Mission Report: Target eliminated by destruction of vital organs due to sword wound.

Turk Assigned: Randak

Status: Rookie

Speciality: Swordsmanship, brute strength, badass attitude

Target: Quintan Richards, Old Midgar Pimp of Underage Girls

Death by: Sword wound

Mission Successful

A/N: All right! That's IT! These assassinations are getting too...mundane. I mean, killing with guns and swords? Who does that?! We're Turks! It's time to get a little more...inventive.

Tseng: What's wrong with old school assassinations?

Me: Nothing...except this is a fic. Meaning, I gotta keep it interesting lest I lose my audience. You know, kinda like Joey did in the middle of it's first season?

Tseng: Right. But this is my organization. I call the shots.

Me: You really think that, don't you? How sweet!

Tseng (sulking): I'm the leader.

Me: Okay! Now that Reno is nekkid due to reviews from the last chapter...Tseng will take off an article of clothing for each review.

Tseng: I never agreed to that.

Me: Yes, you did. When you sulked! I'll do the first review!

AmazonTurk says, YOU SUCK! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WRITE THIS SHIT AND PEOPLE READ IT! YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A FUCKTARD!

Me: Okay, take off your pants.

Tseng: That wasn't a review. That was a flame. You flamed yourself.

Me: Oh...right. THIS FIC RULZZ!!! Now, strip.

Tseng (begins taking off clothes): I like working with you.

Me: I know...WOOT! Abs! Review for more skin!