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M.S.R.P. II • View topic - We Ah...Work For The City Sir [NPC Takeover]

M.S.R.P. II

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PostPosted: Thu Apr 13, 2006 4:21 am 
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Joined: Sat Feb 11, 2006 10:21 pm
Posts: 54
Walking briskly down this particular Brooklynese street, I had to grin at this fucking situation I had gotten myself into. Here I was walking with my boss, both of us dressed in suits and goddam ties. Now when I had signed for line of work, I had been hoping to go to work dressed comfortably...but no. If I had wanted to wear this shit to work, I would've taken those accounting classes they were offering at the goddam city college.

Vincent: "Stop fucking sulking Rob.."

'Yeah screw you boss'. I considered saying that aloud, then the part of my brain that wanted to keep my legs reminded me that this wouldn't be wise. Instead I ignored this command and went on with my sulking just like I had been doing. We turned the corner and were now a block away from the property we were about to 'takeover' so I decided to go over the gameplan in my head. This whole plan of ours was kind of simple, but if the bartender wasn't a complete and utter douchebag our little plan might be foiled. Eh, think positive Rob, think positive. Before I could review my plan further like I had goddam wanted to, we had already arrived. I stopped at the door and took a deep breath.

Vincent: "The fuck are you waiting for, open the damn door..."

'Mother F...'. Right. Yeah. Wanted to keep the legs. Don't get me wrong...I had a lot of respect for my boss, but you know how it is. Someone gives you orders day in and day out, you don't exactly want to buy them flowers. Anyway, I pulled the door open, and watched Vincent make his way inside. For a second I considered heading in the oppisite direction, but decided there may be a potential scenerio where violence would occur if this went according to plan, and what kind of man turns down a good plate of violence? Following the boss inside, I went with him as he went straight for the bartender. Knowing that he wanted me to speak up, I took the lead and began speaking in a loud enough tone for the bartender to hear me.

"'scuse me sir...we're lookin' for the owner of this establishment. Is he here?"

Bartender/Owner: "I'm the owner..what can I do for you gentleman..?"

"We ah..work for the city sir..." Reaching into my pocket, I removed my wallet and flipped it open to show a well made duplicate of some sort of city badge. "...I'm sorry, but we have some bad news...we're going to have to shut this place down."

_________________
Roberto Mancini
Associate of the Barzini Family
___________________
Weapons:
-Desert Eagle [Shoulder Holster]
-AK-47 [In Car]
___________________
Vehicles:
-2006 Caddy DeVille
___________________
Real Estate:
-Apartment 1C [Little Italy]
___________________
NPCs
-James [Armed with a Beretta 92FS and Uzi]
-Anthony 'Tony Guns' Giuliani [Armed with Dual Glock 19s]
___________________


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PostPosted: Thu Apr 13, 2006 4:52 am 
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Joined: Thu Apr 13, 2006 12:46 am
Posts: 72
"What! No way, you've got no right!"
A short burst of coughing silenced the owner as Vincent slid the briefcase onto the bar. Inside of the briefcase lay the bar's transfer of deed and a Desert Eagle .44. If one method didn't work, the other would.
"Not to be rude, but you're fucked. I've got page upon page of patrons compaining of service and the company held here, police reports mentioning your bar and....the nail in the coffin, the taxes."
Opening up the briefcase, carefully out of his view, Vincent picked up a document an old account friend had typed up. It was a tax report showing the money owed to the government. For all intensive purposes he wouldn't know the difference between this and the real document, which would serve Don Barzini well. Years of war, hit after hit, and the Barzini had been put back to square one. Fidgeting with a few papers in the briefcase I glanced to Roberto before looking back at the bartender.
"If you want to keep any of your assets I suggest we talk in a back room or office, my associate will watch your customer."
Strolling around the bar the Don clutched his briefcase as the owner led into the back room. It was a non descript office with nothing more in than a clock, a desk and a few chairs and a horrid paint job. First thing to do is remodel the entire place it was a shithole. Having the owner settle into his seat I returned to the bar's main floor to see Roberto sipping on a coffee.
"Put the cup down, this ain't a social call."
Pausing to open the briefcase Vincent pushed the powerful .44 Desert Eagle into his hand, whispering the last order.
"Get everyone out of here then come into the back, remember to lock up first..."
Foreshadowing what was to come Vincent looked back on Roberto before escaping back into the office to work over the owner.


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PostPosted: Thu Apr 13, 2006 5:49 am 
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Joined: Sat Feb 11, 2006 10:21 pm
Posts: 54
I watched the boss go into the next room with the bartender or owner or whoever the fuck it was, and then turned around to speak to the few customers that were in this joint. Before opening my mouth, I studied them a bit wondering which one of these dumb pricks would be the one to give me trouble. Ah well, it didn't matter.

"Excuse me gentleman...I'm gonna need everyone to clear out."

Of course, they ignored me. That's fine. Walking over to fat asshole nearest to me, I placed both of my hands onto his shoulders and pulled with all my strength. He went tumbling backwards like a Ford Truck in reverse and collided with the ground hard, hitting the back of his head on the floor. Before he had a chance to recover, I pulled back and kicked him in his head. I wasn't really aiming, but somehow I had gotten either his nose or his mouth, because his face was for some reason covered with blood. Bending over, I helped tubby to his feet before giving him another sharp punch to the stomach, and a nice little uppercut to the jaw that sent him sprawling to the floor once again. Walking over to him, I again helped him stand up, and led him to the door. In one sharp movement, I pushed him out the door. The previous damage I had done with him combined with the force of my push sent him out the door and and caused him to fall to the ground. Brushing my hands off, I turned to the others.

"Like I said...we need this place cleared out..."

They were much more responsive this time around. Within a minute, the place was empty. As the last guy filed out the door, I closed the door behind him and twisted the lock. I then walked over to the 'open' sign, and flipped it over. The bar was now 'closed'. Turning around, I made my way to the office where I had seen the boss and the owner go into. Without knocking, I pushed the door and entered, standing silently by the door awaiting The Don's orders.

_________________
Roberto Mancini
Associate of the Barzini Family
___________________
Weapons:
-Desert Eagle [Shoulder Holster]
-AK-47 [In Car]
___________________
Vehicles:
-2006 Caddy DeVille
___________________
Real Estate:
-Apartment 1C [Little Italy]
___________________
NPCs
-James [Armed with a Beretta 92FS and Uzi]
-Anthony 'Tony Guns' Giuliani [Armed with Dual Glock 19s]
___________________


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PostPosted: Thu Apr 13, 2006 6:07 am 
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Intermediate
Intermediate

Joined: Thu Apr 13, 2006 12:46 am
Posts: 72
“Let me break it down to you. You’ve got two choices, you can sit here and wait for the tax men to come down and tear this place apart or you can work with me.”
A bluff, nothing more, but would the owner believe it? Sure he had the look of a low brow businessman but he could be another Trump for all Vincent knew. Picking up the transfer papers to the bar the Don laid the document face down on the table. As soon as the owner went to grab the papers I held my hand on top of his, pausing him in the position as Roberto made his presence.
“Listen, I can see someone upstairs is just putting the jets on you. These papers entail and certify the transfer of this bar to one Vincent Barzini, a close associate, and he’d be happy to take things over. He will however be a simple figurehead to take the heat, you’ll still be running day to day operations.”
Stopping the rant for seconds the Don lit his last Export A and then continued on.
“Nothing changes for you. You’ll make the same money, punch the same clock, just to a different name. Just sign the papers.”
The bar’s owner, who still remained unknown, was obviously thinking the deal over. Fake tax records could really make people sweat; the bartender over a furled brow was drenched in perspiration. Vincent reached into his pocket to retrieve a hankerchief, blowing his nose, as he watched the owner’s look to change into one of disbelief.
“Don’t bullshit me. This deal cuts me out completely, I get nothing! Come to think of it you never showed me any credentials when you came in here, guinea scumbag. You’re Barzini, aren’t you?”
Fuck, things were about to escalate dramatically. As soon as the bartender finished talking he came swinging a baseball bat, the Don barely avoided the first strike. Edging away Vincent picked up the chair and blocked a swing of the bat. At another attack the Don let the bat get tangled in the chairs cross braces, spinning it to remove the weapon from the bartender’s hands. Stomping down his right foot right against the owner’s wrist the Don picked up the baseball bat and brought it up above his head. The full force of the hit was paused, that old intellect was getting the better of Vincent again. How would he sign with busted hands? Holding the bat over the fallen bartender Vincent heard the door creak open and Roberto appear in its place. Slinging bat over his shoulder the Don walked past Rob and sat in chair in the corner. Fuck being obese, doing anything took it out of you. Glancing over to his smoke on the floor Vincent was puffing on it rapidly, delegating the task of the takeover to Roberto.
“Get things cleaned up Roberto, make sure he signs."


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PostPosted: Thu Apr 13, 2006 10:21 pm 
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Joined: Sat Feb 11, 2006 10:21 pm
Posts: 54
'Thats what I'm talkin' about'. Finally I'd get to do what I do best, hurt motherfuckers. My right hand immediately went for my waistband, which contained the Desert Eagle given to me by the boss. Withdrawing the gun, I aimed it at the soon to be deceased, while using my left hand to undo the knot in my tie. Now no longer feeling the strain against my throat, I felt comfortable, and felt like I could do some good old fashion violence. I began to make my way towards the owner slowly.

"You dumb prick..." I said feeling the anger well up inside of me, "...my boss was trying to save your life, and you get violent with him? I don't like violence."

Pulling my right foot back, I sent a powerful kick to the owner's ribs.

"...fucking asshole.." I continued, "...I'm a peace loving man.."

Another kick to the ribs followed after that comment. Throughout every kick thrown, I continued to keep my Desert Eagle zeroed away at his head. From the side of the room, I heard the Don call to me and tell me to hurry up and get him to sign instead of fucking around. 'Asshole..'. This wasn't about the boss anymore though. Nah, it was about me needing something, and this dumb prick not giving it to me. Reaching down with my left hand, I grabbed him by his shirt collar, and helped him get to his feet. I continued to keep the gun in my right hand aimed directly at his head. Once he was on his feet, I kept holding a tight grip on his collar and pushed him towards his desk. The papers that the boss had taken out remained on th owner's desk, so all I had to do was nod towards them.

"Sign them.."

Planting both of his hands onto the table, the owner leaned forward and stared into my eyes. I could see his face filled with contempt and hate towards me, and his lips forming into two polite little words.

Owner: "Fuck you.."

'If you say so asshole'. Lowering the Desert Eagle as soon as he uttered that last word, I took square aim at his left hand, and fired. The bullet shot clear through both sides of his hand, and the owner was now screaming in pain. Hmm...it really had been a good move to clear this joint out. Now, I raised the gun back to his fuck's head.

"Sign the papers shithead..."

This time, he had no smart comments, he just continued to scream and writher in pain from the bullet wound in his left hand.

"Fine..." I muttered.

Walking over around the table, I kicked his chair so that it moved backwards. Raising my right hand, I pistol-whipped him with all my strength. I then took my gun, and aimed it at his crotch.

"A bullet to the balls doesn’t kill you my man...only makes you stronger. Now sign the papers and we can get you some ice for that hand...refuse my offer, and your berries will end up twigless..."

Well hey, he was a reasonable man after all. The owner reached for the pen with his non-bullet hit hand, and put the ol' John Hancock down on every page that had a designated 'X'. Turns out his name was Tom Stevenson. Well that made sense, the bar was called Tom's Place.

"Alright douchebag.." I said after he put down the last signature, "...get the fuck out of here. If you so much as breathe a word of this to the cops, we'll get you. Understand me?"

Still clutching his left hand, the previous owner of this fine establishment got up from his chair, and headed quickly towards the door. Unfortunately, it was not meant to be. Raising my gun on level with the back of his head, I fired. The bullet his him smack dab in the back of the head. For good measure, I walked over to his limp body and gave him another bullet in the back of the neck. Shoving the Desert Eagle into my waistband, I turned my attention to the Boss who was now making his way over to the desk to collect the documents.

Vincent: "Wait until nightfall, then take him out and dump him. I'll have our friends in the sanitation department take care of this..."

Great. 'No..no boss, I don't mind re-scheduling the date that was going to get me guaranteed ass to play with a dead corpse, thanks for asking'. The boss soon made his way out of his new bar, and I in turn sat down in what used to be the owner's chair. I had about an hour to kill, so I in turn took this time to think about my friend Larry Thomas, the man I had asked to come work at this bar.

Ol' Larry and I went to high school together back in the day, and were pretty good friends. I dated his sister for a while, he got mad, we got into a little scuffle, he regained consciousness...and it all went uphill from there. He was the type that couldn't hold a decent nine to five, so he was always going from one odd job to another. He's been a trucker, a security guard, a male stripper, and had now found his calling as a bartender. Over at Frankie's Saloon he was a star, and we were about to make the steal of the century by bringing him over here to our humble establishment. Aside from all his faults, Larry was an overall good guy. He was an outdoorsman, so he kept in shape by playing a few sports weekly. He was also no stranger to the family business. Although he could never be made, it was a known fact that he was under Barzini protection even though the boss didn't like him. Ah Larry, yeah he'd definitely make this place great.

Before I knew it, the hour had passed and it was now time to get our good friend 'The Old Owner' out to the dumpster. Standing up from the chair, I made my way over to where he lay, and picked him up under his armpits. Dragging him quickly, I got him out of the Owner's Office, and towards the back door exit I had seen earlier. Kicking the backdoor open with my left foot, I struggled pulling this fucker's dead body out the door and to the dumpster that stood right by it. Letting him fall to the ground, I raised the top of the dumpster, and went back to my dead body. Picking him up, I threw him over to the top and heard a quiet little splash as he crashed down to what I assumed was a two liter soda bottle. Brushing my hands off, I took a quick look around for possible witnesses...nothing. Making my way back inside, I locked the place up, and my way out onto the street ready to do my brisk half a mile walk to the ol' apartment.

_________________
Roberto Mancini
Associate of the Barzini Family
___________________
Weapons:
-Desert Eagle [Shoulder Holster]
-AK-47 [In Car]
___________________
Vehicles:
-2006 Caddy DeVille
___________________
Real Estate:
-Apartment 1C [Little Italy]
___________________
NPCs
-James [Armed with a Beretta 92FS and Uzi]
-Anthony 'Tony Guns' Giuliani [Armed with Dual Glock 19s]
___________________


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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Thu Apr 13, 2006 10:22 pm 
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Intermediate
Intermediate

Joined: Sat Feb 11, 2006 10:21 pm
Posts: 54
Requests:

-Takeover of "Tom's Bar"
-Death of the old owner
-Disposal of the body of the old owner
-One Class A Bartender, Larry Thomas

_________________
Roberto Mancini
Associate of the Barzini Family
___________________
Weapons:
-Desert Eagle [Shoulder Holster]
-AK-47 [In Car]
___________________
Vehicles:
-2006 Caddy DeVille
___________________
Real Estate:
-Apartment 1C [Little Italy]
___________________
NPCs
-James [Armed with a Beretta 92FS and Uzi]
-Anthony 'Tony Guns' Giuliani [Armed with Dual Glock 19s]
___________________


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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Thu Apr 13, 2006 10:54 pm 
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Professional
Professional

Joined: Sat Jan 21, 2006 5:17 am
Posts: 455
Location: Kyyiv, Ukraine
-Takeover of "Tom's Bar" - Granted
-Death of the old owner - Granted
-Disposal of the body of the old owner - Granted
-One Class A Bartender, Larry Thomas - Denied

Okay, good and bad stuff about this roleplay. Let me start off on the beggining of the roleplay, I liked it, especially Roberto's part, I really did like most of your roleplays, the first one bombed, I liked how you talked to your character, what you were thinking and stuff like that, that's what I like to see if you ask me. Now when you two tell him about the tax stuff, I didn't like that part, It's bullshit. He could of agreed with you and could of gotten a real lawyer to look at it right? You two could of been in jail if he faked that he was working with you, but he could of gotten a lawyer and maybe the cops to do some background checking. But anyway, now the death was alright, nothing special, how you hide the body is a little tricky, you could of put a little more effort and did your self and explained a little more. Now the bartender, I denied that because I just didnt like the idea of the takeover and how you hide the boy. Now don't get me wrong like I'm on anybodys side or anything, but you guys are lucky if the cops were active, they could arrest you easily. 'No more for me to say, really good job, the both of you, keep it up.

_________________



[Eli The Dealer; Said;]
Get off my nuts, faggot.

[Mr. BigValboski; Said;]
How could you leave MSRP! FAGGOT! TRAITOR!

[Eli The Dealer; Said;]
Just like when I left your mom after I fucked her without a condom, and she became pregnant with you.

[Mr. BigValboski; Said;]
My mom killed her self

[Eli The Dealer; Said;]
Yeah, so would I if I was her, I mean raising a kid like you by her self... damn... good for her.


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PostPosted: Thu Apr 13, 2006 11:34 pm 
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Expert
Expert

Joined: Sun Jan 22, 2006 6:00 am
Posts: 545
I am going to making a minor modification to the ruling. Due to the hiding of the body not being detailed enough, the disposal is denied. However, the bartender is granted. That is all.


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