Jack stared silently at his crew, you can imagine ANYTHING what they might be doing right now. Growling at each other, giving the finger, pillow fighting, yes, pillow fighting. They were acting ridiculous, like immature adults spinning around the hallway. He sighed in displeasure, he immediately opened the door and got out of his car. The gang couldn't believe what Jack had done. They've considered that as a bold step for their boss to open the door all by HIMSELF. Suddenly, they're as blue as the sky, they faced the ground, humiliated, they've not achieved anything this past week.

Jack Napier gave them a round-house kick to the FACE.

It didn't even take a second for Jack to beat them all to the ground, it was ALL done fast, faster than a heartbeat. What can I say? He's Jack Napier.

He took out his pack of cigarettes and placed one in his mouth, still, he's aware that he didn't bring a lighter with him. He just stared at the cigarette and it Lit the cigarette by itself... In fear.

Jack picked up one of the fallen gang he round-house kicked and used as a subordinate for an umbrella. It was still raining heavily, you just can't imagine how long it took for these guys to fight over a door. Suddenly, lightning struck RIGHT infront of Napier.

Jack blinked.

He proceeded to enter the Criminal Underworld, every step he took made a majority of other mobsters hearts strike in fear. They widened their eyes and couldn't stop yapping about the spook. Jack never bothered to look at those losers,

" Lookit 'im. All smug an' mighty like dat. "

" Psshhh. He can hear ya! Keep it low,yo. "

" Don't...Lookit 'im. "

" Why...? "

A knife slashed an eye of a mobster. One could not imagine how disgusting it turned out, the guy beside the victim could not move, he was paralysed, scared, his face was almost broken with sweat. Jack entered Valestra's hideout/house/watchamacallit.

The living room was as beautiful as usual, carpet's golden, curtains had flashy designs and patterns on them, a huge table made of glass, a 50-inch T.V. And a shelf full of Italian, mobster-related books. There were some romantic genres, too. Jack threw the guy he picked up as a subordinate for an umbrella outside the house.

He doesn't want this place to get smelly, no, no, no.
As he was examining the room around him, he heard something, music. The music was playing upstairs, jazzy, beautiful and quiet. Jack tip-toed on the stairs to get to the room where the music was playing as slowly as possible till he reached the door and knocked.

" ... Yeah? "

No one responded, of course. Jack Napier don't talk too much.

" Why, Jack! Come in! Come in! "

Jack entered the room, he found Sal Valestra, his boss, sitting cozly in his chair, placing his legs over the desk infront of him. He smirked as he looked at that tall creep. He knew Jack would come for him, Jack always had a thing for Sal and vice versa. Jack was always Sal's enforcer, beat the crap out of everyone who stood in front of him.
Sal knew every job he wanted to do to get his reputation still would be the help of Napier. Napier was cunning, strong, agile and as cold as the ice. Jack wasn't interested much in looking for a love-interest but he knew one thing, when Sal's there, pleasure's just around the corner. Sal stood up from his chair and approached Jack, placing his hand around his shoulder, " Oh, Jack. Yer always there fo' me,
arencha.. ? " Sal smirked.

Jack raised a brow.

"Ahaha! Open yer ears, ... YOU! And let me tell ya 'bout this one man, who's as great as a cupcake. "

Jack got a bit confused, he never thought that Sal would be much aware about the fourth-wall.

" Y'see, my dear, you were always there for me

You take a round of bullets, you, everywhere you see

A blood-stained knife, a fedora of black

You take a handful of weapons, you, your name is Jack

Grab that glass of wine, take a sip to see

How much more you mean to me

And, what a fine man you be

Get a load of all the weapons I've for you!

But, always do what you're told to do

Jack raised his brow. " Did you finish singing? " was written all over his face.

Sal face-palmed.


So, what do think of this chapter? I promise to make the 3rd a lot better. I had so much stuff to do and I'M HUNGRY.

The title of this chapter, Died Trying, was not clearly shown in here, it just meant that Sal took him over 2 hours just to write the lyrics.

Well! Keep your eyes peeled for the 3rd, and final, chapter, Your hands, my pants. !