Walking into the back of the restaurant,

was in his money belt. He quickly went for it and within four hours finally got to it but by then they'd left, bought guns, got friends and returned to the dimly lit restaurant and

he went for the ammo in his tech vest. The rest of the mob ordered plates of rigotoni and waited. "Which pocket? Which pocket?" Twenty minutes later, he found it. "OKAY NOW, wait I

will go for Little Jimmy, and you, Fat Joe, will go before me, just in case it's an ambush, capish?" Fat joe was hesitant, he was always the guinea pig for the Boss's plans

and this time felt no different. He checked the Colt .45 tucked into his belt and tilted his cloth cap out of his eyes. He could handle this, he had the guts, the know-how and

his lucky suspenders. He walked out to face the Octopus in front of the Saloon. People scattered and hid. The Octopus was feared because he could draw and fire six shooters at once

People mistakenly thought he could fire 8 guns, but forgot that Octopus used two arms for walking. What Octopus failed to notice was the grenade attached to his rival's suspenders

. When the grenade went off, Octopus exploded, filling the sky with Pollock-esque Chinese ink paintings. A boy said, "Abstract rocks!" and walked out of his calligraphy lesson. He

caught little chunks of octopus in his open mouth and ate them with the biggest grin on his face, tears of joy streaming down his face. He loved octopus, and hated calligraphy.

FIN