I Hope This Grand Theft Auto Parody Makes Sense.

The Never Ending Quest - Episode 6180

Five gunmen burst into the shop. Dan falls, both kneecaps spurting blood.
"Okay, Stacy." said the tallest man. "Time for you to get your fingers pulled off." Suddenly, a gun was in Stacy's hand. She looked. Dan, holding onto a napkin dispenser bolted into the counter, was passing a Luger.
Without thinking, Stacy fired. All the gunmen fell, each with a hole neatly in their left kneecap.
"Shit!" cried the tallest man. He barfed, crazed from the pain. "I know her! Boss Forelli never said anything like this. She's the one who killed all those guys in Tampa!" Stacy kicks him in the head and he collapses, groaning.
"Go!" cried Dan. "The West Avenue Junkyard! Show my gun! Tell the guy to help you!"
Stacy ran, and without thinking she grabbed three more completely different pistols.
And many hours passed. Two hours of walking, a stolen car she never quite figured out and a phone book eventually got her to the West Avenue Junkyard, a sprawling complex on a bit of nothing in New Jersey.
The Junkyard was completely mobbed up. Turns out Dan had helped several made men's sisters when a crazed rapist had cornered them in a dorm sleepover.
But even that amount of gratitude had it's limits. A phone call from Dan gets Stacy a month in a back room and queries made. Stacy has had a shadowy life as some sort of freelance Mafia enforcer...known for her extreme reluctance to kill. This made her ill and she barfed many times.
The "Boss Forelli" was a clue. Sort of. There were seven Boss Forellis in the United States and it'd be a good thing for the Jersey mob if any of them went down. None were near Tampa, an area controlled by the now- vanished Boss Clipstone.
The head of the yard met her near the rack of soda machines on her thirty- first day. Stacy firsts asks why a virtual stranger had done so much for her. The man, a mysterious, unamed, thin older boss-type who was talented with a sword, explains that favors are the currency of the mob. He had asked that part of what the mob owed him was to put out the word that he and his wouldn't be hassled for helping Stacy protect them both from the gunmen. This had been done. Most of the local power structure had already known about Dan as it is and those who respected him for it held so much influence that an outright official request would keep him safe from represials for pretty much forever. Being a civillain would usually have kept Dan safe, but that he had actively helped a known Mafia soldier in a gun-battle had made him a semi-legit target. Arguments pro and con would be moot if he was to be capped. Not anymore. Yay mob or something.
Stacy's part, however, was coming to an end. Favors only last for so long and if Stacy wished to hide with the Jersey mob anymore, she had to start pulling jobs. The unamed man gave her options.

  1. Knocking over a few small shacks on some enemy territory. This would allow the Jersey mob to bypass red tape and build a safe house.
  2. Infiltrate a mob-patrolled shopping center in West Virginia...reliable info says a drop of money-launderng diamonds meant for Jersey allies were somewhere inside.
  3. A simple job, with a simple paycheck. Drive some goombahs to a meeting upstate, on the bumpy backroads.
  4. Find out what the heck is up with the one school in Salem Center...apparently it's students were vigilantes of some sort.
  5. Stacy agrees to some damn job and two hours later is ten miles away in a stolen car. Screw the mob!

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Lots42

5/21/2009 3:53:02 AM

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