http://www.votemayor.com/?p=204Elected Command: Plead not guilty to the murder.
“Sorry Boss, but I’ve yet to make my bones.” states Sammy. Craven flinches.
“Everyone out.” orders Craven.
A murmur rolls across the room.
“Out!” demands Craven, ushering the crowd of wise guys into a loud clamor as they remove themselves, and the remaining bar patrons, still guzzling down the last of their drinks as they go.
Bar Nun goes stone cold silent.
“I hear you got a good set of eyes on ya, Sammy. Notice that crack in the wall next to ya?” says Craven, pointing. Sammy turns.
“Uh, I don’t see no cra-“ utters Sammy, as his forehead slams into the wood paneled wall. Craven releases his grip upon Sammy’s back scalp, allowing the young man to crumple to the crusty floor, cigarette and all.
“How ‘bout now, ya dumb kid?!” shouts Craven, temper flaring. Staggering back onto his favorite bar stool, Sammy’s eyesight begins to return.
“You know what I see?” asks Craven, grabbing the metal bat propped up against the stool. His leather gloves tighten around the handle. “I see a big ‘ol ding right in the sweet spot of this new Mafioso bat. Your bat, Sammy. Now tell me, what else should I see?”
Craven lowers the bat to Sammy’s eye level. Dried blood is splotched into the crevice of the ding. Sammy takes the deepest breathe he’s ever deeply breathed.
“Ya wanna know what I see, Boss?” asks Sammy, coolly sliding off the stool. Kneeling down, he gently picks up his next to last cigarette from the crummy ground, plopping it back onto his drooping lip. “I see you holding my bat.”
“Nice confession, I’ll make sure the boys don’t break your face open before we haul your carcass off. “ says Craven, trailing off as Sammy begins shaking his head side to side.
“I see you holding my bat in your other hand. The hand underneath your overcoat. The hand that was holding the dinged bat, before you switched it out with mine, just after smacking me into that wall. Must’ve looked like you were holding a walking stick to all those other goons, all too hyped up to notice. Bet they hadn’t even heard of dear Uncle Gonzo kicking the bucket until you marched’em over here like a bunch’a chumps.” says Sammy.
Craven’s face contorts beyond recognition.
Commands: 1. Investigate further.
2. Strike up a deal.
3. Wrestle away the dinged bat.
4. Wrestle away Sammy’s bat.
Voting ends in 24 hours.