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'Police are on the lookout for the man responsible for the attack that left three dead, and several more tramautized by the events that unfolded at Donny's night club downtown, last night.'

The black furred wolf that sat in front of the television in his studio apartment let out a small scoff at the newscast before grasping the remote in his paw.

"Spade...so messy lately..." He said before changing the channel, the sight of a toucan spinning the big wheel on The Price is Right filling his eyes.

He sat back, and took a drink from the bottle of lager that sat on the end table near the armchair he occupied, his free paw flipping the channels of his television aimlessly, as he browsed through the random media, the familiar sound of his ringtone filled his ears.

"Yeah." He said, placing his phone against his ear with a quick slide of the accept button.

"Jack, we need to have a meeting, about that thing..." Said a voice on the opposite end.

"What's to meet, the guy's...on vacation, the money's wired and I'm sitting on a share of that now." Jack replied, patting the armrest of the armchair, noticing a pricetag reading 599.99$ as he ripped it off.

"Just meet me at the Longroad, and don't take all night." The voice replied, before hanging up.

Confused, Jack placed his phone down and looked to his wrist, 11:00 PM read in the digital print, as he let his wrist fall on the armrest with a flop, his other hand finding a contact, 'King' and tapping it twice, sending a call.

"Royal Flush industries, Jacob speaking, how may I direct your call?" Asked a deeper-than-usual for a customer service representitve voice.

"Got a call from my last Client, he's asking for a meet at the Longroad Diner, down on Kline street, no backup necessary, just notifying you that something's strange." Jack said, getting up from his chair and walking towards his bedroom.

"Very well, keep it clean as always, if anything goes down-" The voice said.

"I know, break the phone, it'd be the fifth this month, King...and Jacob, yesterday it was Dalton." Jack said with a subtle laugh, using his free hand to open a closet door.

"Maybe tomorrow it'll be Lisa, goodbye Jack." The voice said, before hanging up.

Sliding his phone into his jean pocket, Jack looked into the closet, before him was a small arsenal of four pistols, three shotguns, one M-4 assault rifle, an SVD-Dragunov suppressed rifle, and a single sheath, containing a BlackJack club, he reached in, grasping a Beretta M9 and loaded a magazine in, sliding it behind his back and tucking it into his waistband, finally grabbing the club, slipping his belt through the loop and reclasping his belt, allowing it to hang menacingly on his hip.

"Jack, my favorite cold blooded sunnuva' bitch!" Said an older wolf, his fur a darkened grey, a few hues off from the pitch black that was Jack's fur.

"Christoph, who's your friend." Jack asked, walking towards the booth that the Wolf and his company sat at, his company being a well dressed German Shepard that sat silently next to the Wolf.

"Oh this, this is, Bob." Said Christoph, a hint of reluctancy to the name instantly noticed by Jack.

"Right, Bob, so, what's up." Asked Jack, his eyebrow raised as he too sat down.

"Well, about that cousin of mine." Said Christoph firmly, swiriling the ice cubes in his glass of cola around with his straw, "I decided the way he went on vacation was too, sudden and taboo, not a very honorable destination, so I'd like a bit of his air-fare returned to me."

"Are you kidding, what the hell was taboo in your opinion." Asked a now irritated Jack, sitting upright.

"Welcome to the Longroad diner, I'm Roma, what can I getcha?" Asked a feminine voice, too occupied to notice from whom it came Jack dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

Waiting for the waitress to walk away, Christoph took a drink of the cola, slurping it through the straw as the clicks of the woman's heels wandered to the opposite end of the diner.

"You beat his brains out with a god damn mallet..." Cristoph said in a whisper, sighing as he rubbed his temples with his paws.

"Blackjack actually...and you never disclosed what method to use, he banged your wife, I banged his head around, what's the problem here, I'm legitimately curious." Jack asked, sitting back in his booth and smiling.

"Wipe that shit eating grin off your face, It was sickening, did you forget it was my living room?!" Quietly spat Christoph, angrily placing the glass down on the table with a clunk.

"I aint giving you shit back, the deal's closed, and you wired the cash after I texted you, the end." Jack said, standing up.

"You texted it was done, you didn't say a damn word on how, she's divorcing me because she thinks I did this, and the god damn carpet is ruined." Christoph said firmly, also standing up, his Shepard company standing as well.

"That's your problem, bro, I did my share." Jack replied calmly, sliding his wallet from his leather jacket pocket, slapping a 50$ bill on the table and smiling "I'd say it's on me, but technically you paid for it."

"You son of a bitch." Christoph said angrily, nodding at his company.

As Jack walked towards the door and the bell jingled along the top of it on his exit, he heard footsteps behind him as he neared his Chevy Caprice, turning around he was met with a revolver pointed at his snout.

"Mr. Christoph wants his money...now." the Shepard said with a quiet, reserved tone.

"sigh...fine, let me grab my wallet." Jack said, slowly lowering his hand to his waist and quickly undoing the strap of his blackjack, and drawing it from it's sheath.

The hammer clicked back as the Shepard pulled the trigger back, before the shell was hit by the firing pin the weapon was sent flying by an upward strike of the club, the Shepard grabbing his hand in pain, as Jack sent another strike flying down to the dog's head, his scalp parting and blood leaking as his body fell limp to the asphalt.

"Payment in full, prick." Jack said, sliding his now moistened club along the Shepard's suit jacket, and sliding it back into the sheath, going to his car and opening the door, slowly sitting in the driver seat.

He panicked as his window busted out near him, he looked in shock as Christoph himself aimed a small Walther handgun to his vehicle, "I'll deal with you later." Jack said to himself as he turned the engine on, another shot flying through the car, damaging the passenger side door as the transmission slammed into drive, and his foot met the gas, his paws turning the wheel frantically as another shot pegged into the driver side door, his car sliding out of the parking lot and into oncoming traffic, a truck laying on it's horn as Jack slid into the correct lane and sped off down the road.

"I oughta call the cops, this is a crime, you can't be serious!" Said the Armadillo behind the counter, looking at Jack with a pale face.

"Oh, well, I guess I'll conviniently forget this, and walk out then." Jack replied, slapping a stack of 100$ bills on the counter as he slowly walked towards the door.

Shivering, but noticing the money, the Armadillo looked at Jack, "Some bondo and two windows...come back tomorrow i'll get right on it sir, thanks for choosing Maaco..." He said nervously.

"Always a pleasure, Stew." Jack said looking back at the Armadillo's nametag and smiling as he walked out of the store, stepping to the sidewalk, pulling his pack of cigarettes and lighting one in his maw.

"You really should quit, costs more than you calculate." Said a monotone voice aside of Jack, he turned to meet Spade's gaze.

"Spade, nice hat." Jack smiled as he said, offering his hand to which Spade shook it firmly.

"Thanks, Burlington Coat Factory." Spade replied, tipping the black felt bowler that adorned his head.

"Bald syndrome? Never saw you in a hat before." Jack asked, laughing softly.

"A pigeon shat on my scalp earlier today, so after showering I went to purchase the headgear you currently see." Spade replied as he began walking, Jack joining him, "I noticed your vehicle has been impaired, I can give you a ride back to the Casino."

"I was gonna head home, why to the Casino?" Asked Jack.

"King's curious as to why a customer fired upon you, and why his assistant has a concussion." Replied Spade, as he lifted his keys from his pocket, pressing the unlock button, his Mercedes chirping as it unlocked.

"So why don't he come to my flat...I'm tired." Jack said, "Not right now I have a headache." He said with a faux feminine tone, bringing a giggle to Spade's face."

"Because that's the rules, come on." Spade replied, opening the driver side door and sitting down, Jack taking the passenger side.

"This thing has heated seats...Why aint they on...?" Asked Jack, patting the cushiony leather seat he sat upon.

"I am always afraid I'll fall asleep or piss myself, one of the two and neither are pleasent in a vehicle." Spade replied as the engine roared to life and he pulled out onto the street.

The Mercedes drove down a long and abandoned road to an appearingly equally abandoned mansion, as he turned the engine off, and looked to Jack.

"I know, put on my chap-stick right...?" Asked Jack

"Indeed." Replied Spade in his classical monotone, but still with a smile.

The pair exited the vehicle and headed towards the mansion's doors, Spade reaching out and knocking on their wooden surface.

"Two pair, or Four of a Kind." Asked a voice behind the door.

"Full House." Replied Jack, to which the doors creaked open.

An armed Boar, balancing his shotgun on his shoulder stepped back. "Good ta see ya chums, was figgerin' you'se were off celebratin' Spade's shit job last night'" He said with a hearty laugh.

"Hey, It was messy, but I did not keep the pistol." Spade replied, as he and Jack walked into the mansion.

The interior of the mansion matched nothing on the outside, the windows completely blocked by drywall and lighting, the entirity of the floor a hardwood, polished to a sheen as the Boar's footsteps clopped across them.

"You'se two here for King I reckon, he's up them stairs with Queen he is, talkin shop about that Chrissy fella' you done pissed off." The Boar said with a grin, pointing towards the staircase in front of them.

"We know the Casino well enough to figure out where King is, Travis, But you are as helpful as always." Spade said, as Jack and himself proceeded up the stairs.

Travis, the Boar, had come to the Casino as they call it, by accident, formerly a homeless war veteran, the occupants of the mansion contemplated wether or not to dispose of him due to his knowledge of the undisclosed location, however they rested on a deal, using his military expertise to their knowledge, they agreed to allow him to stay with them, as a guard on the front, as long as he does not leave the property, living a life of luxury, for the small price of armed protection was not a deal he passed up, that was five years in the past.

"There is absolutely no way you faltered...You're not in jail and you're sitting in front of me...But clobbering that Shepard with the same club used in the job just cleared Christoph's name...Now what happens if you're sitting in a bar in town and a cop notices that club...get the picture?" Asked King

King, a tall, muscular, and middle aged Clydesdale Horse, sat at his desk, looking towards Jack, his hazle eyes and long dyed-red mane keeping the Wolf's green eyes in attention.

"I'll leave it in the car, boss, chillax." Jack said, sitting back in the red, uncomfortable wooden chair he sat in.

"No...Christoph is not an idiot, he will surely go to the authorities with an anonymous tip if action is not taken." Spade chimed in, King nodding in agreement.

"Babe, I have an Idea." A female voice said from the doorway.

In entered Queen, A stunningly beautiful fox, her fur a bright white, her eyes tinted red due to her albino quality, her stiletto heels clicked loudly along the wooden floor as she approached King, sitting upon his lap.

"Well, what is it then?" King asked, planting a kiss to his mate's lips, her smile increasing in size.

"Well...Make Jack take care of it, he started this big old messy problem with that club of his, let him finish it with that club of his I guess." Queen said with a giggle.

"Absolutely not, dear, that club is the bane of my damn existance, Another murder and a coroner's gonna know...So far we've seen mallot, bat, even golf club, it's a matter of time before they identify our colleagues unorthodox weapon." King replied, looking to Jack "Silenced pistol, dispose of it when you're finished, Travis will provide the weapon, make sure Christoph is silent."

"A job with no paycheck, gotta love it..." Jake said, an undesiring tone to his voice.

"The paycheck is to make sure our fighter is free to assist us." Spade said, looking to Jack, bringing a nod from his head.

Queen, Spade, King and Jack walked out of the office, King and Queen heading down the stairs towards the kitchen, as Travis walked upstairs towards the remaining two.

"Bossman says this'n is for ya, smith n wesson, heh, shame you gotta put a quiet tube on er'." Travis said, offering a suppressed handgun to Jack which he took and slid the chamber back, lodging a bullet in place before tucking it into his waistband, offering the one that formerly held a place in the spot to Travis.

"Hold onto this, it's from my personal stash, but I aint gonna carry both, dont need temptation to be louder than needed." Jack said, Travis nodding.

"You go in there and kick some ass, ya hear, Im needin you ta' stay in the Casino now boy, don't need no friend losin'." Travis said, pulling Jack into a hug.

Jack hugged back and nodded. "I will." As Travis let go, Jack regaining his breath and walking towards the doors, opening them and walking outside, Spade sitting on the hood of his Mercedes.

"How the Hell did you get out here, man?" Asked Jack as he approached Spade.

"I took the liberty of sneaking out behind you, while you and Travis were engaged in conversation, in order to scare you when you came outside, a failure of mission, but the motive was there." Spade said with a giggle.

"Thanks, so, where am I heading." Jack asked, his head tilting.

"Do not fret, I'm the wheelman for this job." Spade replied, opening the driver door, and grinning. "Get in."