Hustle: Chapter 1
I FINALLY RID OF MY LAPTOP OF MALWARE SO I WAS ABLE TO ACTUALLY GET THIS UP TODAY!
Word Count: 1461
Warnings: 1920s slang and words that better suit then but can be seen as offensive now
Character Mentions/Appearances: Penn Whiskey, Philip Whiskey, The Whiskey Twins, brief mentions of Nicky Delano and Connor O’Sullivan, and our main character….won’t be said until he says his name. ;)
Her heart is made of sugar but she won’t ever admit it, his eyes the iron forged into bars but they’re still a hot spot in the back of his irises. Words that made them were forged with their hands and feet, bringing the ground to its knees.
Whiskey.
An alcoholic beverage which brought smiles onto poor old drunkards in a stool and was also prescribed by doctors who numbed the pain, it had several meanings to the eyes of fools and lawmakers but in the speakeasies, whiskey only had two meanings. A drink, or the twins. And the twins had established their brand. Penn and Phillip Whiskey, they held the button to the production of whiskey, alcohol and transportation raids, they held the fate of bottles in their hands and had the mafia wrapped around their middle finger. They didn’t condone violence and they wouldn’t dare hurt a soul, unlike the mafias who slaughtered to gain their attention only to be dismissed with sudden shards on their feet. They didn’t want to be like them. Not like us. I was a second boss under the Irish mafia, and as fantastic as that sounded, I only had stumbled on the position on accident, it was out of pity in honesty on how the job landed on my lap. I’m one-eyed Irish who immigrated from Scotland to ‘murica out of a whim, lost my eye due to a stab-happy thug who decided it was best to prey on the weak and to slash my eye like the civil men in brawls, and after all of that, it was a blur of taking train rides and walking streets like the no good savages the white men in ‘murica had viewed us, immigrants, till, well it led me to the Irish mafia. Our boss had asked for ideas at the time on how we could make ourselves efficient on alcohol, and of course, I had mentioned these whiskeys. His face had turned sour when he thought of the twins who worked with other mafias as well. ‘Ye’ ‘ve heard of ‘em on the great vine, no good mixers.’ But he considered the offer and I was sent to the speakeasy no one dared to throw a punch in, otherwise, the alcohol would never reach their lips.
The atmosphere was dim lit in contrast to the boarded up walls that hid the negro singing at the stage. The patrons threw shards through their gaze is thrown at me as I entered the establishment, though their gaze never lasted as the crowd turned back towards the singer at the stage. At the bar the bartender served the drunkards to their heart’s content, throwing their cash at the palms which held faucet to the fountain of youth, and the bartender didn’t even have to lift an eyelash to get those men at their beck and call. The boots that littered the dark rowan floors came up almost silent as the mouse in the corner and at the bar, I asked in the corner with a whisper with such ferocity. “Where can I fin’ those twins of ‘reen” The bartender stood still and looked at me with blank eyes, alike those eyes dead fish have, and he then placed down the cups he had at hand and lifted the entrance to the other side of the bar, a stray finger of his gesturing me to come over to the other side. I was in for a fated meeting or so I thought. Behind the counter there were stairs that led above the ground, No one had yet to come down or return from what was above from the moment I came into the homely speakeasy, as I looked towards the man who served beer he only ushered me up with a quick gesture with his head at the corner of my eye. In a slow minute, I had risen up the stairs using the walls to guide me up, when I had seen them. Their backs towards me and their muttering quiet to the point of whispers, as if the two had been discussing secrets which they only kept to themselves. Although I couldn’t see their faces and only the chestnut hairs they had, I could tell the two apart from each other. The brother Phil was the slightly taller one out of the two, the back of his shirt clean and so was his undercut, and adding on the broad shoulders he held to hold his respect. The sister Penn was the shorter one of the two, her hair neatly bundled up into a bun behind her head, the appearance of a tomboy clear from the suspenders she had and the jacket which was over her shoulder. These two were the power duo which controlled alcohol and where it goes, and they held the trigger to any gang war they could do, they were alike gods but these gods were too sinful to be true. With a quick knock on the railing of the stairs I had snapped them out of their ritual-like speech, Their heads turned towards me as if I had ruined their face, but the quick impression they held changed to a tame expression, Their eyes from alert to surprise as they saw me, a figure of up to no real threat. “How long have you been there?” The brother spoke accusingly immediately showing off his ferocity through his words which oozed with hostility. “A short while, I mean no ‘arm” The brother backed up from his demeanor as I assumed he recognized the accent. “Scotty?” The sister had spoken up with a question with no more words needed as I rolled my eye trying to think of other ways of how not to snap back with a sarcastic remark until I chose a few words. “100% Irish, ain’t a Scotty even if I wanted too.” And by a few words I meant nine words, and with nine words the sister had already given me her wide eyes before embarrassingly looking away and saying ‘oh’, before mumbling a brief apology, a great introduction in my book along with the time someone assumed I was British. “What is it that you need anyway, you can see we’re busy Irish.” The brother wanted to bring attention off of his embarrassed sister, chivalry in its most naked form however his eyes which screamed, “Get out” wasn’t enough to scare me. “My boss sent me ‘ere. I came to make some business for yourselves.” The slightly hushed curse from the sister made it obvious that they weren’t prepared to hear from me. “Connor- didn’t expect to hear from him soon.” “We just got Delano on our tails too.” The Italian mafia gang ran by Nicky Delano, he is a mythic dick, though for a dick he can run a mafia well, however- “Delano? I’m sure whatever he’s paid yourself can’t match to how much we blokes are offering.” The Irish aren’t going to take shit from the Italians. And I was going to set the example except when the twins revealed what was true to their surprise. “It’s not the idea of-uh…who gets dibs or whatever- it’s the…” The sister again looked to her brother for the words she was looking for. “Quantity?” “Yeah! Quantity- And! The quality!” The sure look on her face got the spotlight on me as if I understood exactly what she was talking about in a blur. “You get what I mean right?” If it wasn’t enough, not even the wrinkles on my face which clearly spelled ‘hell no’ was able to crack through Penn’s disillusion, however, in the face of idiocy, I attempted to spit out what I interpreted. “Uh, you’re meaning to say that there’s a check of how many mafias you can supply?” “Absolutely.” A complete and utter silence suddenly came over the quaint office of the twins, it was as if someone had died and no one wanted to move some kind of muscle or cheek, the stiff stances from the fraternal twins only made me worry when they gave a look showing how expectant they were of my next move, But the look from the brother gave at my hands behind my back made me think of actually dragging out my revolver and throwing it out the window. What option did I get from these twins? Either risk competition for some bootlegs with the other mafias and risk wars all around, or look for other bootleggers to do the job. There was only one thing I could possibly do.
So that’s the first chapter of Hustle, but that’s not the last of Hustle either. Next up we’re gonna see our Irish’s decision and what else is coming from the Hustle and Bustle of Chicago.
Tagging peps I kno who wanna see this:
@kmdrocks555 @drcrane1048 @c-qcat
