Prototype_Toaster:Chicago-Spirit-Tale

"Claude, are you out of your mind?"

"Who the hell do you think I am, Boss? Do you think I've been running around these past 5 years trying to ruin the Spirit?"

"Hell no!"

"So what do you think I'm doing right now?"

"Making my ass team up with a bunch of robots, that's what! Jesus, I treat you like my son, better than my son as a matter of fact. I love him, but I only trust him to boost cars and bully garbage men right now, and you? If I got whacked, I'd trust you to take over. But right now, cause you've gone insane, I'd trust that lady at the washers to run the Spirit over you."

"Look, Boss. This could be the Spirit's last chance to rise up and get shit done."

"And get cut down by some wiseass G-Men again?"

"The FBI is a joke now. They ain't done nothing in years. Rich, you know how successful we were when we were bootlegging in the roaring twenties. We only got cutdown cause of bad luck and the FBI being nosey. Now that they're a joke and we got luck on our side, teaming with Anderson will be a success. Think of the weapons we'll have. The jobs we could pull. Those feds are gonna get minced if they come back for us."

"You got a fair point, Claude. I'm all for seeing a couple G-Men get shredded like cheese. But can we trust this Anderson guy?"

"All I know is that he and his right hand man wants to expand their business. He's a good businessman like you, Lou."

"Does he have a bunch of wanna be toughguys from the street working for him too?"

"I appreciate your humor, Boss, but now's not the time. He's got his own army of robots. You seen Terminator? It's like that. "

"Alright then. I'll lie all my trust in Anderson on you. Where is this guy?"

"Portland, Oregon."

"Ok then. I'll get some wise guys and get you a plane."

"God bless you for giving us this opportunity, Boss. I'll get my stuff together for the flight."

"Sayonara. And hey, we're the Chicago Spectre now. The Spirit died long ago. I am only trying to continue my father's legacy."


to: SC.liam|notneF_edualC#SC.liam|notneF_edualC
from: SC.liam|III_lleppahC_drahciR#SC.liam|III_lleppahC_drahciR
re: Visit with Anderson

I have been thinking on this for a while and I have finally decided that my son, Rick Chappell, is coming with you. Yes I know I only have him jack cars for a living but I need him to prove himself. You need to protect him too. Even if this proposition falls on its ass, I need Rick to come back in one piece.

- RDC III


The drive was long, but relaxing, for Claude. But Rick had this child like excitement at 19 years old. Any other mobster would either be dead silent or telling stories about how they "got rid of that one guy who held out on protection payments". Rick, however, was almost rocking in his seat as the car pulled up to the abandoned airfield. This was his big chance. He'd impress one of the most powerful people in the Spectre, his father, and get the Spectre to join up with Anderson Robotics. He actually had to press the dull side of his knife into his thigh to calm himself down.

And he had finally arrived at the airfield. Two goons opened the doors for him and the three other thugs. Rick stepped out of the car and approached the plane. His dad had a nice plane. Jet Black with a gold Chicago Spirit logo on the back. That's exactly how Rick would have designed it. Maybe his dad knew that and had it made this way after him. But he figured that his dad was too cold for that and kept walking to the plane. When Ricky and the wise guys arrived, they stepped aside. One of the wise guys said to Rick, "Hey Ricky. You're the Boss' son. You get priorities here". Rick bowed his head in respect and stepped onto the plane and took a seat up front. Claude and the two other generic goons soon followed as the plane door closed behind them.

A margarita was waiting for him in his seats cup holder. The Chappell family always loved a good drink, but Rick was never up for it. Hell, he was too young to drink. But a few sips wouldn't hurt.

Not bad. Rick would always prefer soda over any type of alcohol, but he didn't want to look childish so he left the issue alone and started to lean back in the planes chair and doze off. And before he knew it, he was on his way to Portland.

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