Crack Mafia such. Before Tyrant Queen was the head of the family. I'm not even going to refer to her as myself, she's too cool.
! Staring into the black hole of a barrel is a time of reflection, as Trafalgar Law always taught his nurses and newbie doctors. In a town oozing with so much crime and gang, you want to avoid the sudden meaning of your life. Since, if you got to see the light in the barrel tip, you’d quickly lose it a moment later. Today was his day of reflection, and it brought many firsts for Trafalgar.
! Firstly, he’d never seen a mafia woman before. To the treat of the events, it was the Ensenada’s direct heir: La Piccolina. In other words, the little girl. To his shock, the woman was no letter of the word “little.”
! Secondly, he had just purchased this suit. And never did he have a cigar burn to a new tie.
! Thirdly, this was his first time realizing he didn’t have an answer to his life.
! Squirming under her weight, he sighed into the pistol. “Buttleggings? On my expensive tie?”
! The woman narrowed her brown eyes, reflecting the gold off the silver gun. “You know your cigarettes. You sure you’re not a fanook?”
! “The fact I’ve been staring at your breast since you sat on top of me isn’t an indication otherwise?”
! A dark brow raised, her lips pushed out in deliberation. “You’re controlled. How many women sit on you a day?”
! “I’m a surgeon.” The bulb in the overhead fan flickered. “I see nudity like you see death, La Piccolina. Which further confuses me as to why I’m about to die.”
! “Papa says you’ve got something that we want.” The tip of the gun bore into the doctor’s forehead, denting his shaggy black tresses into his skin. “And I’m here to take it.”
! “Seduction was out of the question?” Law chuckled. “What are you, a babbo?”
! Piccolina growled and pulled the gun back. Whipping the back of it across the cheek of the surgeon, it sounded a crack when it collided with his face. Bone meeting metal sent a shearing pain up into Law’s temple. His face in pain, he grabbed it with his only free hand. The culprit of the smarting heaved breaths of antagonism out. “I am not a babbo, I suggest that stick in your brain for your next life, Law.”
! “Please, call me Trafalgar.” The stinging wasn’t lifting.
! The young woman gulped and wrinkled her nose. “I’m…Gypsy.”
! “Gypsy, huh? That’s some arm you got on you.” He blew a sigh from his cheeks. “But do you have enough guts to shoot me?”
! He had called her out. Of course, only the blind could not see her trembling arm. Whether from the clash a moment earlier or this being more than expected, it didn’t matter. It wasn’t something she could do, not until she knew why Papa had sent her here.
! “What does my father want?”
! “Father? Can’t you call him Whitebeard like the rest of the world?”
! Gypsy raised her arm in warning of striking his face again, Trafalgar didn’t flinch or jerk at all. Simply, he looked at her brown eyes with his black ones.
! “Papa must really want what you have. Spill.”
! “You aren’t ready to be the Boss. I’m hoping that he doesn’t get a contract put out for him with his babbos about sitting on doctors.”
! “Do you want a turban, Trafalgar?!”
! “And now you have gumption enough to crack my head open? Make up your mind.” Groaning, he shifted his legs. “You’re heavier than you look. Now, all I have of your “father’s” is a payment I never made for protection.”
! “You…owe a large?!” Her jaw dropped, showing lipstick on her teeth. “What do you need protection from to make you owe a large?!”
! Law blinked at her. “That’s not really your concern.”
! “But…I…” Her thoughts were never finished. Law grabbed bother her arm and heaved up, dragging her with him. Slamming her back to the desk, she let out a gasp of hurt and anguish as her pistol flew from her hand. The contents of the desk burst into the air, rolling about and clanking to the floor. Oak felt terrible when brought with force to the spine, Law knew that his move was made. Leaving the woman to groan at the tenderness of her back, he ranked open the drawer to the desk and lifted it’s bottom panel. Pulling out a check, he put it to her hands.
! “That should cover it.” He watched her sit up, coughing to retrieve her breath. “Cugine, you’re alright. I look forward to your days as boss.”
! “You better get a secretary or something.” Gypsy rubbed the back of her neck, check in hand. “Or find a lady to share the double-decker with.”
! “I’ll keep that in mind.”
This one I'll never finish. But Galley-La makes a good gang.
! “It’s going to take a gun to her head to make her want to have dinner with me.”
! Iceberg leaned back in his chair, his assistant had been in his office for the past two hours moaning over a barmaid he had met a couple weeks back. The endless banter of the worry was begging to grind into his tension. “Paulie, perhaps you should just ask before she thinks you’re an alcoholic.”
! “Yeah, I would, but heard a rumor she’s with a Fedora.”
! “A Fedora?” Iceberg looked from over the rim of his glasses.
! “Yup.” Paulie ashed the cigar in the cup he had next to him. “Therefore, as the Fedora’s number one enemy, she won’t even give me a dance if I asked.”
! He was quite right, the Galley-La Family had been butting heads with the Fedoras for generations. A timeless dispute that involved a money ploy and a run away bride. Where they were to merge at a time, they were driven further apart. The bride ended up back east and married to a cop, both gunned down by the groom’s side. Spurring more hate. The Don of Galley-La swore for no forgiveness for the next six generations. Eight births later, the hate was still fanatical between the gangs.
! Iceberg placed his glasses to his lap. “Perhaps you could…remove the Fedora from her sights?”
! “I ain’t up for bumpin’ anyone off today, Boss.”
! “Charm would work too.” He sighed. “But you youngsters are all about who makes the biggest scene these days.”
! Paulie laughed smoothly, and stood up from the windowsill. “You always know how to phrase things, Boss. Such an old man, you are.”
! “I had the same thing to the man I succeed.” Iceberg smiled in memory. “Though not a blood relation, Tom was the best Don the world ever saw.”
! “Bet he knew where Roger’s Will was, huh?”
! The Gentle Don snapped his glare to the blonde man. “If he did, there is a reason he didn’t tell me.”
! Paulie scratched his head. “Or he didn’t tell you before the meat eater got him.”
! “With all the people going these days, it’s hard to say who knew from the original Committee.” A sigh. “For all we know, it could be in a hot place.”
! “I’ll bet.” Paulie had heard this a million and a half times. Maybe even more, but he’d lost count. Pacing to the door, he took his orange hat from the rack. “I’m going down to the Electric Fairground. Drinks are calling me.”
! “Tell the barmaid I said hello.” Iceberg said as Paulie slammed the door. The blonde man chuckled and put his hat firmly on his crown. His pace was set directly for the swank bar in the dead center of the town. A grand building, only employed by the finest and stalked by the many. It’s large sign was lit up after dusk every night in the rain or the shine. Paulie was only set on the bartendress behind bar five, the one with blonde hair and the desire to be a talk show host. At least, that’s what Paulie had learned from her chats with the other bartenders.
! As he pushed open the oak doors, his neck was immediately seized by a foreign arm. Cursing loudly, Paulie wrestled the grip off and flipped around to the source with a hand on his gin strap. “Oh, it’s you.” The retaliation was a hard sock to the arm from the choker. “Owch! Dammit, Kaku! You mind not making such a fucking scene?” He yanked his friend’s hat down, the bill of it pulled over Kaku’s nose.
! “Ah, don’t be such a stiff.” He used his palm to push the hat back up. “Girls like men who at least look like they’re cheerful.”
! “Like, you’d know.” Paulie removed his hat and put it under his arm. “Whoa, what’s up with Jyabura?”
! The base of a dark braid was pointed towards the ceiling as his nose was pressed to the bar top. Another black haired man was beside him, pushing glasses of drinks towards the facedown man. “Aw, he got dumped by some girl.”
! “Not some girl!” The clearly upset man cried. “THE girl! I will never move on from Gatherine!”
! Kaku rolled his dark eyes and sat down next to the man. Paulie removed his jacket and combed the back of the bar for the target to order a Brandy Julep. He couldn’t wait to see her usually giggling eye roll to his usual drink order.