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Discussion in 'WZCW Roleplay Board' started by Dave, Apr 17, 2018.
RP deadline is Monday the 30th of April at 23:59 PST NO EXTENSIONS AVAILABLE
PC Stevie Broon
Turnin' The Tables
For hours ah sat in that cell waiting for somebody to come and take me into an office. Ah'd seen aw these people behind the scenes and ah knew that they were aw shitin' themselves tae come and talk tae el' Stevie Broon. Ah could sense the peril goin' on doon the corridor. Who was it gonnae be? Who was gonnae be the sad sack that tried to take Stevie Broon into an interview room and get the truth oot his gub? More importantly, who was ah gonnae look in the beadies 2 months after the Polis' sacked me for dishin' oot justice the Steve Broon way? Whoever it was that pulled the short straw was gonnae get an experience that they would never forget, that much ah could promise them right now.
The audacity, ah thought. The sheer baws ae these bastards tae come into mah work on a fucking Friday afternoon and take me away in cuffs? They obviously didn't give a shite about the fact that ah had a reputation to uphold in mah new place of employment. The didn't give a shite about the fact that ah had to cover the fish counter, whilst wee Shannon got away early tae pick up her methadone at the Boots pharmacy. Who was gonnae cover her now? She's gonnae be having more withdrawals than a junky that's just found 20 grand in their current account.
But naw, here ah am. Sittin' in the same dingy cell that ah had thrown many a jakey in over the years. Thrown tae the lion's den by mah old amigos, mah brothers and sisters in arms. It was a brass neck, that much ah could admit to. The people ah now shared a cell wi' were looking at me with a smug look on their faces it was enough to make a weaker man sick to his stomach. But not Stevie Broon. Stevie Broon had seen it aw before and nothing was gonnae make him feel like a dafty.
Me: THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKIN' AT!?
The words left mah mouth like a fuckin' bullet leavin' a gun. Ah stood up and tore the ShopSmart jumper right off mah torso. The smug look ae the wee cunt's face across the cell soon disappeared like the last chicken leg at the 'Fat Fuck Buffet'. In it's place, the look ae fear that ah had come to know better anyone else.
Me: IT'S GO TIME!
This wee pleb was about to get hit harder than a sudden realisation. Ah walked towards the wee twat, ballin' mah fists up for the inevitable Foxtrot of Fists...
Voice: Brown, Steven?
Cut off in mah fuckin' prime! Ah genuinely couldn't believe it. This wee tadger had been spared by the skin ae his teeth and he knew it. Ah turned mah heed to reveal the unlucky soul that had, invariably, drawn the shortest straw imaginable. And there she was, PC Lauren Kelly a rookie tae the force but someone ah had known since her first day. She offered me a smile as ah stood bare chested in the middle ae the cell. She was well impressed.
Doon the corridor we went and into the same interview rooms that ah had bashed up many a crook in mah day.
Kelly: Have a seat, Stevie, this wont take long.
The fix was in. Wee Lauren was one ae the good ones walkin' aboot these halls. She knew just as well as ah did, that justice came at a price. Justice came at the loss ae your innocence. Law enforcement, she said to me once, would drive weaker people to tears on the daily. Law enforcement was the work of the strong and the strong needed to show their strength to keep the weak in line. That had always struck a chord wae me. And now, here she was, interviewing the Master ae Jakey Mashin' like she was the big cahuna. Nae bother, hen, Stevie will play along wi' yer game. Ah sat doon and stared right through her; she didn't even flinch. She was a belter.
Kelly: Stevie, what have you been up to? This behaviour was the reason they put you out this place? I really thought you had seen sense after losing your job?
Her tone and words were a desperate appeal to mah reasonable side. Lauren was a good kid but she knew just as well as anybody in this hovel that ah could flip this table at any time and walk oot the front door. Who was gonnae get in Stevie Broon's path after all these years? They knew what ah was capable ae and they knew to stay the fuck away. Ah stayed quiet for a minute, tryin' tae keep mah cool. Ah looked around the white stone walls for somethin' tae focus on but it was only delayin' the inevitable.
Me: It's funny, ye know? This room looks a lot different when you're sittin' on this side ae the table.
Kelly: You don't have to be sitting on that side of the table, Stevie! Keep your head down for a couple of months, stay quiet, and you can re-apply for the force in 6 months time. This place needs someone like you, Stevie. Think about what your doing.
Me: Mah days in this shite hole are done, Lauren, hen. Mah days ae answering tae some pencil-pushin' arse hole are done. Ah've found a new callin' in life, Lauren. A web ae treachery, deceit, lies and violence that ah could only have dreamed ae in this place. ShopSmart, hen! All the roads lead back to ShopSmart!
Lauren looked at me like ah had just kicked her dug tae death right in front ae her. Of course she wouldn't believe me about aw the crime out there in the streets. The new day of the Polis' was well and truly upon us. Paperwork, notes and statements replcaed good old fashioned pain and interrogation the maggot faced Chief Super-Intendant had seen to that.
Kelly: And that's why you barged into a corner shop and physically assaulted the shop-keeper and his two sons, was it? Treachery, lies and deceit?
Ah could tell by her tone that she didn't take me seriously, a mistake that people often made just the once. Ah could feel mah blood boilin' inside me now. 9 years on the force, cleanin' up the streets like Kim and Aggie with an addiction to order and rightful punishment. And here ah was, sittin' on mah arse in a Polis station as if ah was the jakey? Ah could feel the vein in mah head bulging like the stauner in Boaby's pants the first day he interviewed me for a job at ShopSmart. Ah had to keep the head, ah couldn't lose mah cool here.
Me: Listen to me, Lauren, and listen right good. You night have the daddy pants on today but you'll still feel ma skiddies in there. Ah wore they pants for nearly a decade. So when ah say that there's somethin' big goin' on here, you best take that information seriously, hen.
Aw Christ, ah couldn't stop it now! The words were leaving me with more anger than a Neo-Nazi at a Bar Mitzvah. You might as well have called me butter, because ah was on a roll.
Me: Did ah go to The Patel's shop and demand some answers? Aye, ah did. Did ah force a handful ae Curly-Wurlies doon the throat ae Usman Patel? Aye, ah did. Did a stomp on one ae his son's baws like a balloon ah wanted tae burst? Aye, and ah would do it all over again in a heartbeat. Ah need to get to the bottom ae this broken window, Lauren. Now, if you're gonnae sit there and charge me for handin' oot justice like Oprah hands oot cars, then you better be ready to own they daddy pants and not just wear them!
Lauren looked me in the eyes as ah suddenly relaxed on the chair again mah system getting rid of all the angry toxins that had invaded mah body like a Trojan horse. Did ah feel bad about tearing wee Lauren a new arse hole? Maybe a wee bit. She was just the unlucky sod that had to take me in an office. But ah knew ah was right. The longer ah sat in this room, the longer the streets ae Glesga went longin' for peace and justice. She knew it, ah knew it. Time tae make a decision, darlin'.
Kelly: Listen, Stevie, I'm letting you go on this occasion. Simply because I know you have a match in WZCW coming up. We don't have to be enemies in all of this, Stevie. Let me help you and you can still help us.
Ah continued to stare through Lauren, mah heart still beating faster than a drummer on speed. She reached for a pad ae paper under the case file off to her left hand side. Ah watched every move like the Predator stalking Arnold Schwarzenegger through the jungle. Pullin' out a pen fae her jacket pocket, she took one last look at me and begun scribbling.
Kelly: You didn't get this from me, Stevie. But we have a lead on your broken window case. A passer by identified someone known as Johnny Mayfair fleeing the scene around the time of the incident. No one has been able to make contact with him since the attack, so it's a lead if nothing else.
Lauren slid the paper over to me and ah looked down at it with mah eyes open wide. This was it, ah could feel it in mah bones. Ah looked up at Lauren one last time and nodded mah head in appreciation for her honesty. Ah crumpled up the paper and shoved it in mah pocket like a receipt for a session with a Taiwanese lady boy. Ah opened the door to the interview room and headed back doon the same corridors that ah had walked so many times before, feelin' that same rush a felt like never before, however. Johnny Mayfair could run but he couldn't hide fae Stevie Broon...
It was go time after all...
The mystery continues soon...
*British Airlines flight 420 to Glasgow, Scotland from Milan, Italy now boarding at Gate 15.*
Tony slaps a snoring Gino on the back of the head and grabs his carry-on luggage.
Let's go bone head our flight is boarding.
Gino jolts awake and leaps out of the chair as Tony laughs at him. They walk to their gate and board the plane. As they sit down Gino looks over at him with a questioning look on his face.
Why are we going to Glasgow Ton'? I thought that Meltdown was in Paris.
Acoording to Vito the Milanese turned down our request for an alliance because we're to weak at the moment but he also mentioned that the Daniels Crime Clan in Glasgow, Scotland had a proposition for us. Since Glasgow is the home of one PC Stevie Brown, I figured we'd kill two birds with one stone and make a little detour before we head to France.
Gino nods his head and puts on his headphones as the cabin begins to fill up with people. Tony looks at the people with disdain and puts on his sleeping mask as he prepares for the 4 hour flight to the home of the man who will once again share the ring with him, this time for HIS Mayhem Championship, Stevie Brown.
**4 hours later**
As Tony and Gino get off the plane the see a man with a sign that has their names on it. When they walk up to him and say who they are he puts the sign down and shakes their hands as he talks with a very thick accent that Tony barely understands.
Yer jimmy Vito cried ahead 'n' said whin ye wid be 'ere sae mah gaffer tellt me tae come catch up wi` ye.
Tony shakes the offered hand and follows the man to baggage where they grab their luggage and then out to a waiting Lincoln Continental where they put their bags in the trunks before getting into the back seat while the driver gets behind the wheel and continues to talk to them.
Hae ye guys ever bin tae scootlund afore?
This is our first time in Scotland. I was actually surpised to get the phone call to come down here and meet with your boss.
Ah will let they better suited tae tell ye how come ye'r 'ere. Ah juist dae whit a'm tellt.
Gino laughs at that and nods his head in agreement while Tony elbows him in the stomach. As Gino coughs Tony looks out the window. After about thirty minutes they come to a stop in front a rather nice looking house about 15 miles from the airport. The driver gets out, opens the door for them and takes them inside and straight towards a big set of double doors in the back.
The man knocks on the door and waits for a voice to tell him to come in. He opens the door and steps to the side as he motions for Tony and Gino to go on inside. Once they go in he closes the door behind them as they look forward at a man behind a desk. The man motions for Tony to take a seat while Gino stands quietly behind his left shoulder.
Ye'r likelie wondering how come ye'r 'ere aren't ye? they ca' me Alistair Daniels 'n' a'm heid o' th' Daniels Crime Clan 'ere in glescae.
The man offers his hand which Tony takes as he introduces himself.
My name is Tony Mancini and as I'm pretty sure you're already aware I am the head of the Mancini Crime Family in New York City. This here is Gino. My right hand man and best friend Gino Rizzoli.
Gino nod his head respectfully as does Alistair before turning his attention back to Tony.
Aye a'm, tis how come ah asked ye 'ere. Fur th' lest few years we've bin at war wi' th' Lyons Clan 'n' they've aboot wiped us oot. Ah heard something similar is happening tae ye at hame 'n' figured we cuid pool oor resources sae a' body kin come oot alive.
Tony leans back in his chair and thinks about it for a few minutes as he talks to himself
*We could use the revenue a partnership would bring in but at the same time we may end up spreading ourselves to thin. We have to take chances to get ahead in life.*
After deciding to do it he stands up and takes the offered hand before pulling Alistair in and kissing him on both cheeks like he saw his father do in the past in similar situations.
Guid laird ye italians ur pumpin' pure weird, Alistair said as he wipes his cheeks clean. Instead o' winchin' howfur aboot we hae a dram 'n' blether fur a bawherr.
They both sit back down and Alistair pulls a bottle of scotch and two glasses out of a drawer in the desk. He fills both of them about halway and slides one to Tony who takes it and holds it in his hands.
Maybe there is something you can help me with. As well as what I do in New York I'm also a wrestler for WZCW. This up coming week they have me facing a man from here, one PC Stevie Brown. The man already beat me once and that can't happen this time not when it's for my Mayhem Championship. What can you tell me about him that I can use against him?
Alistair leans back and takes a big sip of his drink as he thinks about the question.
Aye ah know Broon. He wis a pain in mah bahookie while he wis a cop, wis aye roughing up mah men 'n' jobby lik' that. Tis bin better sin he git canned bit thare ur ithers lik' him.
Tony nods his head and says nothing as he takes a sip of his own drink and waits for some useful information.
Ye'll wantae be canny. Th' jimmy is a bawherr doolally in the best o' times 'n' in an environemnt wi' na rules who's tae say whit he'll dae. Especially if he fun oot whit else ye did.
Alistair gives Tony a knowing look and Tony knows hee's talking about the extremely small chance the paranoid ex-cop found out what else he did besides wrestle for a living.
I appreciate the concern but I don't think that's going to he be a problem. I keep my buisness private and even on the small chance he does find out anything he shouldn't, well tragic and some times fatal accidents have been known to happen in a wrestling ring, especially during mayhem matches.
Gino chuckles behind Tony while Alistair gives a bit of a sadistic smile as he gives a curt nod of his head and drains his glass as he stands up and motions Tony to follow him.
Juist be canny mah mukker. Noo that business is taken care o' let's gang grab a bite tae sloch afore ye boost tae France.
Tony sets his still full glass of Scotch down as he stands up and follows his new friend and business partner out of the back office.
Some day soon you'll have to fly to New York so I can repay the favor. I know the best place to get a pastrami on rye.
The camera fades to black as they talk about their favorite foods and agree to meet up in the future in New York.