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((oh, crap. what are Rose and Anthony doing? still eating right?))



"Ye...yeah. Why?" Tony stammered.



The FBI was now attempting to hack Laura's cell phone.

"Alright! I can't take it anymore! Who's out there?!"

The developed voice of a middle-aged man shouted into the blackness of the city. The man was at the entrance to his apartment, his hand frozen in his pocket. He shivered uncontrollably, and it wasn't just because of the night's chill.

He could feel it; there was watching him in the shadows, like a detective in a classic film noir. His breathing picked up pace, but he kept his face tranquil as he withdrew his shaking hand that gripped his key. I'm just imagining things . . . maybe I shouldn't drink at night anymore . . .

"Surprise, b***h," a deep and quiet voice said from behind the man.

The man dropped his key, his body frozen and his voice producing small noises of fear. He could feel something rounded touching the back of his head. A . . . a gun?

"Farewell, Archer, from Crowl," the voice said, the possessor of the voice pulling the trigger of his gun. With almost no sound, the bullet shot through Archer's head, blood splattering all over his door as Archer's limp body fell to the ground.

"Beautiful," the man called "Crowl" whispered. Aleister struck again. A silencer is truly fitting for a nighttime kill.

Aleister lifted Archer from the ground by the collar of his shirt. There was blood and he didn't have the time to clean it. Still, a little evidence would agitate the police, a notion that made Aleister snicker.

His car was parked in the shadows outside of Archer's home. All he needed to do was present the body to his customer and dispose of it. With almost no struggle, Aleister dragged Archer's body to the entrance of the driveway. To avoid a witness, he would have to pull his car into the driveway and store Archer's body in the trunk in a dark spot. Luckily, his trunk was lined in garbage bags and newspapers to keep the interior from getting blood on it.

Aleister looked Archer in the eyes. He was indeed terrified before he died, placing a content smile on Aleister's face. Almost nothing pleased him more than the fear of his victims.

"You're my candy" Tony said drunkenly, with a bit of a cheeky laugh.




Anthony winked at Rose. "So how about that food?" he asked, just in case Laura may be recording them.



The FBI hacked all communications and Laura's phone, though it was quite tricky and took a little while. Arthur was being called at that moment.

"Delicious" Tony replied with yet another drunk cheeky chuckle. He then stumbled a bit as he was walking and talking.

Tony tripped and fell over.

Tony scrambled and picked up his phone. "Ye...yeah..." he said. He slowly started getting back up, knocking himself into the wall a few times.

"Nah, I'm good" Tony said, bumping into a fellow mob member. "Watch it!" the guy hissed.



"Yeah, alright. I'll find a seat" Tony said, stumbling around.