(Mech, you can be in the action right now, currently a large part of the mafia is 'purging' ((killing)) the town.)<br/><br/>I always thought it was luck, but now as I remember it, as I truly think about every second that went by in the past, I think it was me following my guts. In any case, I had planned on leaving, the mafia didn't stand a chance against the popes, I had not even rendered the possibility of god-like beings turning down the 'purging' possible, I guess that was to be expected for a guy who believed in what he saw.<br/><br/>"Butler, we are to leave now, are my<span style="font-style: italic">men</span>ready?"<span style="font-style: italic"> There <span style="font-weight: bold">is</span> a difference between men and <span style="font-weight: bold">bitches</span>, the difference was that I regarded my men as the <span style="font-weight: bold">elite</span></span>.<br/>"Yes, sir."<br/>"Good, let the purging behind the purging begin."<br/>Butler then proceeded to bring a radio out from the back pocket of his neat black pants. "AlphaNO.1 requests."<br/><br/>A loudly audible BAM accompanied the echoes of the words Butler spatted out into the radio. I hit my fist against the wall, a small dagger fell out of the sleeve which I caught with my right hand. I handed the dagger to Butler who walked to the corpse of the Don, a mad grin had appeared across his now freshly maddened expression, a soft and old expression replaced by pure madness. Butler was now hacking away at the Don's body as I walked toward the armored van that had made the audibly loud BAM, the BAM that had meant my garage had just been busted through.<br/><br/>Butler was old, he was good, but old, he was to die now or a week later. He was to be blamed for the Don's death and all the past events that had led up to this climax while I got off Scott-free with the elite I recruited from the Mafia, loyalists hand-picked by me to do my bidding as if a god had commanded it to be done.