Alphonse Gabriel "Al" Capone, nicknamed Scarface, was an American mobster and crime boss of the infamous Chicago Outfit during the Prohibition era.
The son of Italian immigrants to the US, Capone was born in Brooklyn, New York in 1899. He was expelled from school for violent behaviour at the age of fourteen, which led to him getting involved with several Brooklyn gangs. It was during this time that Capone met gangster Johnny Torrio, who would become Capone's mentor.
At age twenty, Capone moved to Chicago at Torrio's request. Capone worked as an enforcer for James Colosimo, the head of the Chicago Outfit. Capone quickly rose through the gang's ranks, eventually becoming the new boss after Colosimo's death and Torrio's attempted assassination.
Capone greatly expanded the Outfit's alcohol bootlegging and racketeering business through the use of violence, but his bribes and mutual relationships with authorities ensured his protection from the law. Because many urban Americans opposed Prohibition, Capone became something of a hero to the people, who saw him as a modern-day Robin Hood. Capone justified his criminal actions by saying that all he was doing was giving the people what they wanted.
However, Capone's reputation was tarnished in 1929, when Capone was blamed for the brutal killing of several members of a rival gang. The public turned against him, once complacent authorities became determined to have him arrested, and newspapers gave him the title of "Public Enemy Number One".
Although he was never successfully convicted of racketeering or bootlegging, Capone's mobster career was effectively ended in 1931, when he was indicted and convicted by the federal government for income-tax evasion. He was sent to a series of prisons, including the infamous Alcatraz. He would be released on parole in 1939, but his time as a mob boss was already over. He died of cardiac arrest in 1947.
- 1 Battle vs. Pablo Escobar (by Wassboss)
- 2 Rematch vs. Pablo Escobar (by Wassboss)
- 3 Battle vs. Ned Pepper (2010 Film) (by MilitaryBrat)
- 4 Battle vs. Du Yuesheng (by Battlefan237)
- 5 Battle vs. Jesse James (by LokoDito)
Battle vs. Pablo Escobar (by Wassboss)
Each will have 5 men with them.
Al Capone is driving up to Pablo Escobar's base. Inside Pablo is planning to smuggle drugs over the Colombian border.Meanwhile Al Capone tells his driver to park in the underground car park next to Pablo's base. Al and 4 of his men get out and one stays in the car. They make their way up to the room Pablo and his men are in. They burst through the door and open fire on Pablo and his men with their Tommy guns. They dive for their guns but one of Pablo's men is riddled with bullets 6-5.
Pablo and his men fire back and kill one of Al's men with the M60 5-5.
Under fire Al and his men retreat back out of the door. Pablo sends 3 of his men after them and has one stay with him in the room. One of Capone's men turns around and fires at them but misses. Pablo’s men stop and decide to split up. Al and his men keep on running. One of them turns around and sees that no one is following them. He grabs one of the men and shows him. However Capone and his other gang member don't notice and keep on going. The two men notice this and run after them. Suddenly one of Pablo's men jumps out of a doorway and guns one of the men down with his Uzi 4-5.
The other one pulls out his Tommy gun and fires but is out of bullets. So he turns and runs off. Pablo's man smiles then runs off in the direction of Capone. Meanwhile Capone and his man turn round a corner and see a Colombian standing there he has their back to them so dose not hear them. Neither of them has a gun so they turn around and they notice that they have lost the other two men. Then they hear Pablo's other henchmen coming the other way. They decide to hide in a cupboard. Pablo's man turns the corner and sees the other henchman standing there. He goes over to talk to him. Capone pulls out a pineapple bomb and throws it into the room the two men are in. However they here it land and turn to see it lying there. One manages to jump behind some cover but the other one is not so lucky and the grenade goes off 4-4.
Capone and his henchman walk into the room to see if he is dead. However the other man jumps out with a machete. Capone's man turns to face him and pulls out his baseball bat. He tells Capone to run and swings it at the Colombian. However he simply slices it in half. He then decapitates Al's man 3-4.
He turns and sees Al has got out another baseball bat and he smashes him in the face and beats him to death 3-3.
Meanwhile in the car park the one of Pablo's men sees Al's car. He runs over to it and puts a car bomb on it. He hears someone coming so grabs the detonator and hides out of the range of the blast. Al's last remaining thug comes through a door at the side of the car park. He runs over to the car to get the driver to come and help him. Pablo's henchmen wait till he gets in range and then pushes the detonator. The guy in the car is killed instantly but the other guy is only fatally injured by the blast 2-3.
Pablo's man runs over to see if he is dead. With the last of his strength Capone's guy pulls the trigger on his shotgun and hits Pablo's henchman right in the face before dying 1-2.
Meanwhile Al has found himself right outside the door Pablo and his henchman are in. He picks up a discarded Tommy gun and kicks the door down and opens fire killing Pablo's last remaining man 1-1.
He points the gun at Pablo but he has run out of bullets. Pablo punches him in the face and sends Capone reeling. But Capone puts on his brass knuckles and punches Pablo in the gut. Pablo doubles over in pain and Capone kicks him in the face knocking him out onto the balcony. Pablo lies on the floor in pain. Capone gets ready to deliver the final blow but Pablo kicks him in the face. Al stumbles back and falls over the railing of the balcony. Pablo looks over the edge and sees Al is dead. He pulls out a cigar and smokes it before heading back inside his base.
WINNER: PABLO ESCOBAR
Pablo Escobar had better weaponry and better training than Al capone and while al was more used on gang on gang battles he was not prepared for the weapons pablo brought to the table.
Rematch vs. Pablo Escobar (by Wassboss)
The Millennium Knickerboxer Hotel is used to serving high profile business clientele and has a number conference rooms for guests to conduct their business within. Admittedly they normally host CEO's of legitimate buisnesses but today it plays host to a meeting between two crime bosses at the top of their game. Seated at the side of the table closet to the door is Chicago's very own mafia legend Al Capone while the side closet to the window seats a more unusual patron, having travelled all the way from Colombia, the leader of the Medellín Cartel himself, Pablo Escobar.
"You've not had any problems with the police here?" Capone asks.
Escobar chuckles. "No no Señor, they are much like the police in Colombia, just slip them a brown envelope stuffed with notes and they are quick to leave you alone." Capone smiles but it's stiff and lacks warmth.
"Listen here Amigo I'm just going to cut right to the chase here. My associates and I have been made aware that your expanding your territory to include the United States correct?"
"Indeed we have Señor. Most of our trade is within the US, so we figured having an official base of operations here would be good idea."
"Yeah, see, the problem is we've seen some of your boys around these parts, peddling their cocaine and setting up shop. You see Pedro or Pablo or whatever the hell your name is, Chicago is my town. Nothing comes through this city without me knowing about it and quite frankly I'm offended you seem to think you can just come over here and try to muscle in on my business." Several of the men around Escobar start to rise angrily but Capone's own bodyguards react instantly, pushing back their coats to reveal guns holstered to their belts. Escobar raises his hand to his men, indicating them to sit down which they do reluctantly.
"There seems to have been some mistake here. We aren't muscling in on your business, we are merely trying to sell our product to those who wish to purchase it. We don't control the flow of alcohol, we're not extorting anybody or any of the activities your organisation par-"
"Frankly I don't care of your not technically doing what we do," Capone says cutting Escobar off "The point is you're trading in my city and without my permission. You don't just get to waltz in here and start selling to my clients without me getting a cut you understand?." Escobar glares angrily at the Mob Boss but nods his head curtly. "So here's your choice Amigo. You either I get a cut of your business or you pack your bags and get the hell out of here before things get real nasty. You got that?"
"I understand Señor". Capone gets up from his seat and begins to leave the room, followed closely by his bodyguard. He pauses at the door.
"My brother runs a Casino in the penthouse suite, he'll be keeping an eye on you to make sure you don't try any funny business. You have three days to either leave town or get in touch with us about your first payment." With that warning lingering in the air he leaves. As soon as the door is closed behind him, one of Escobar's bodyguards jumps to his feet.
"Did you hear that hijo de puta, who does he think he is coming in here and telling us what to do. I can't believe you stood for that Pablo. I'd have shot that Gordo Gilipollas right in his fucked up face if he'd talked to me like that."
"Sometimes you have to be calm in situations like this Andrés, not get too worked up and do something rash," Escobar says leaning back in his chair. "I had a feeling this might happen, as soon as I heard this Mafioso type wanted to arrange a meeting with me. Don't think I've gone soft though, that stupid puta won't be a problem for much longer and once he's out of the picture, I'll be running this city."
Capone waves his hand and a car pulls up outside the hotel. The driver gets out and opens the door to let Capone and his bodyguards into the back seat and pulls off into the traffic. "You sure showed that Colombian fella' who runs this place Boss," one of the goons says.
"He's not the first punk to try and muscle in on my territory and he won't be the last. Let's hope he's a cleaver boy and pays up what he owes." The car stops at a traffic light and the driver turns his head, his face looking concerned.
"Did you say he was Colombian?"
"Yeah, why are you so interested."
"I thought I'd take the car into the garage for a check-up while you were in that meeting, the guy who worked on my car was Colombian. He didn't seem to speak English very well and he kept looking at me funny, like he was up to something."
"Probably worked for that Pedro fella', I wouldn't worry about it," one of the goons says but Capone frowns.
"What did he do to the car exactly?"
"I don't know really, seemed to be doing something to the underside of the car."
Capone's face drops. "We need to get out of this car now!" he snaps and pushes his way out of the door, followed quickly by his bodyguards. The Driver however is too slow and before he can react the car explodes in a fiery inferno, killing him instantly. The shrapnel from the blast hurtles through the air and hits one of the goons right in the throat, leaving him choking up blood on the floor.
"That son of a bitch!" Capone yells angrily. "First he tries to steal my business, then he tries to murder me! I ain't having this. I ain't fucking having this at all. Come on boys, let's show this Latino motherfucker what happens when he fucks with the Chicago outfit." Slipping away from the panicked crowds which are beginning to gather around the blackened shell of the car, they head back to the hotel, drawing their guns before they even step through the doors into the reception, not caring an inkling about being conspicuous. As luck would have it Escobar and his cronies have just come down the stairs and stop dead as they see Capone and his mobsters approach, vengeance blazing in their eyes. There is no hesitation from the mobsters as they open fire, driving the Colombians back with a hail of bullets. One of them topples over riddled with entry holes and the rest try to return fire with their own guns but are forced to retreat back under the onslaught.
Capone gives chase as Escobar flees up the stairs, taking pot shots with his Tommy gun whenever he catches sight of them. They burst through a set of double doors into a corridor of rooms, spotting two figures running back into the conference room, while a room door slams shut. "Joey, go clear out that room for me, we'll carry on to the conference room" Capone snaps. As the pair continue onward, Joey strides up to room number 328 and kicks the door in with a powerful punch. The Colombian inside jumps back in shock and ducks down as bullets rain down upon him, dashing into the adjoining bathroom and slamming the door shut. Joey's finger stays on the trigger until the bullets are replaced with clicking as he runs out of ammo. Cursing loudly he looks around the room for another weapon and spots a baseball bat propped up against the wall. Snatching it up he barges his way through the door and the cartel member raises his pistol but he knocks it out of his hand. Smashing a fist into his jaw, he stumbles back and trips into the bathtub, where Joey proceeds to deliver dozens of vicious blows to his head, cracking his skull open.
Joey straightens his jacket and turns to find himself face to face with another cartel member, Uzi in hand. He opens fire and the mobster is jolted backwards and topples on top of his recently murdered victim, their blood mixing together as it washes down the drain.
Meanwhile back in the conference room, Capone and Escobar are locked in a vicious gunfight. The Colombians have overturned a table for cover and are firing over at any chance they get, which isn't often under the constant SMG fire. Capone runs out of ammo and drops his Tommy gun, taking a pineapple grenade out of his pocket. Pulling the pin he lobs it over the table, hearing a shrill scream as it goes off and fills one of them with shrapnel . Escobar stumbles out dazed from behind the table and towards the window where he tugs on the blind string, plunging the room into darkness. The mobster fires wildly into the darkness but nothing hits it's mark. "That lucky bastard" Capone mutters under his breath as the door behind him opens, momentarily illuminating the room. A cartel member opens fire with his Uzi and kills the last mobster as Capone ducks behind the overturned table.
Quietly Capone slides his sawn-off out of his jacket as the Colombian searches for him in the dark. Every so often a burst of gunfire provides a flash of light as the man fires nervously at random spots. Crawling along the floor, Capone stops as he hears the dull clang of a empty magazine hitting the floor, only a few steps away from where he's lying prone. Aiming his shotgun in the general direction of the noise, he fires off both shots in quick succession, hearing the satisfying sound of the pellets hitting their target dead on . Getting to his feet he creeps over to the window and pulls on the blind string, bringing light back into the room again. He starts to load up his shotgun but freezes as he feels the cold hard barrel of a gun pressed against the back of his head. "Drop the gun," Escobar growls and Capone obliges.
"Easy now there Amigo let's not do anything rash," Capone says.
"Rash! Rash! I'm half deaf from the fucking grenade you chucked at me and you've killed some of my finest men. And you telling me not to be rash!"
"Hey! Listen here buddy you set off a motherfucking car bomb and killed a bunch of my boys as well. Your lucky I'm giving you the oppourtunity to walk out of here alive."
"What the hell are you talking about, letting me walk out of here alive. Have you forgotten the gun pressed to your head you joder gordo?"
"Damn your hearing must be busted, can't you hear the police are outside?" Escobar notices for the first time the squealing of sirens from the streets below. "So unless you want us both to end up in a jail-cell I suggest we both get the hell out of here. I suggest w-" The sentence is cut short as Escobar squeezes the trigger and puts a bullet in Big Al's head.
"The only person walking out of here is me Pendejo" Escobar says under his breath. Looking around at the carnage he is about to leave when a idea pops into his head. Grinning he takes a small pocket knife out of his jacket pocket and bends down over his slain opponent...
The police swarm over the hotel as the paramedics and doctors try and help any civilians who have been caught up in the fire. In the upper floors CSI units pore over the dead bodies and empty shell casings for any clues of what happened. The chief of the Chicago Police Force surveys the scene. "Looks like another goddamn gang deal gone wrong". Depressingly he's not even shocked by it any more, ever since the rise of the Chicago Outfit scenes like this have become almost commonplace. He hears hurried footsteps and turns as a junior officer scurries over to him. "What is it kid?" he asks.
"Sir, you ain't gonna' believe this. The crime scene guys have just gone into the conference room and you won't believe who they found. Old Scarface himself!"
"What!" comes the astonished response. The chief hurries over to the conference room and sure enough, the body of Al Capone sits propped up in a chair. "Why fuck me sideways and call me Sally! It is. The big boss himself." He moves in closer for a better look. "We've been trying to put this guy behind bars for almost four years now and he ends up dead in a gang shooting!" His eye is quickly drawn to his badly mutilated face, his neck has been sliced open and the tongue pulled through. "Oh my god."
"What is it chief" the officer asks.
"I've heard about this. This is a Colombian necktie."
"A Colombian what now."
"It's a sort of warning mark used by gangs in Colombia. They cut a guy's throat and pull the tongue through." Something clicks in his mind suddenly. "We've heard rumours of increased gang activity recently. Some say there's a new gang on the streets from South America. Now this proves it."
"Another gang?! From Colombia? Well that's just super" The officer replies sarcastically. The chief strolls aimlessly towards the window and looks out over the city a grim look on his face.
"Looks like we have a new king-pin in town."
Winner: Pablo Escobar
This was a close battle with users torn between which of these crime bosses would come out on top. Capone's supporters argued that his greater experience in these type of squad on squad situations and the bigger punch his Thompson was packing would lead him to victory. However Escobar's supporters said that Escobar's more modern and reliable weaponry plus the greater training of his Cartel members would lead him to victory. In the end Escobar did manage to squeeze out old Scarface because he invested more money into training up his troops to the point they were almost a paramilitary group which far outclassed Capone's untrained thugs.
This was only the second battle I ever made and because of this there were many glaring flaws. The information provided on weapons was nonexistent, there was no analysis of the warriors themselves, it was partly decided by poll vote and the blog and simulation were littered with spelling mistakes and poor grammatical structure. While the same outcome (a victory for Escobar) was achieved both times I felt this battle could've been done much more professionally hence the rematch.
Battle vs. Ned Pepper (2010 Film) (by MilitaryBrat)
l Capone and his men are somehow in a desert. Lucky Ned, Tom Chaney, the Doctor, Feral and his brother ride up on horses.
"What is that you are in stranger?" Lucky Ned asks.
"Its called a car."Capone replies ""Shoot them"
Feral and his brother are killed by Carcanos and 2 of Capone's men are killed by return fire.
Tom Chaney has his Henry Rifle. He sees Capone and goes to shoot him but is interrupted by a .38 slug in the gut and a stiletto in the throat. The Doctor kills Chaney's killer with his double barrel.
Lucky Ned kills Al's last man with his Colt SAA. Al grabs a shotgun off a dead man and shoots and wounds Lucky Ned. He's about to kill him when the Doctor blows Capone's head off with his Double Barrel.
WINNER: LUCKY NED PEPPER
Battle vs. Du Yuesheng (by Battlefan237)
"You ever dealt with those Chinamen before, Al ? I've heard that they eat dogs !" Asks Fran Nitti, as the Cadillac V-8 Town Sedan carrying him approaches the entrance of the drug factory, followed by a truck carrying four more Chicago mobsters.
Ignoring the question, the Scarface lights up a cigar as their car pulls over near the gate. "Hey where are those slanted-eye motherfuckers ? Aren't they supposed to lead us through this gate ?" Nitti complains, "Somebody gonna teach that big ear fella basic etiquette !"
However,something tossed over the fence interrupts the man's rants as he pokes his head out of the window, trying to figure out what that is. "Shit ! That is a f**king hand grenade !" Yells the man, alerting the three remaining gangsters. Quickly forcing themselves out of the car and finding shelters nearby, Capone, Nitti and the driver are able to save themselves from the blast. However, the last mobster isn't fast enough to escape, as the flaming tire crashes into his midsection, killing him instantly.
It doesn't take long for the Chinese gangster who pulled out the assassination attempt to expose himself in order to check the result, only to receive twenty rounds of Tommy Gun bullets pumped into his chest.
"That motherfucker. I want you all to get this fuck where he breathes ! Find this opium-addicted Du Yue Sheng. Trying to kill me ? I want him dead ! I want his family dead as well ! I want all his fancy hotels burned to the ground ! I wanna bash his skull open and piss on his ashes !" Defiantly yelled the angered mobster, as he orders his men to march inside the factory and seek revenge.
Meanwhile, inside the factory, Big Ear is still smoking his pot, with Chen, Wong and Diterikhs standing around.
"魏搞砸了! 那胖子带人冲了进来，想杀掉我们!(Wei fucked things up !That fatso is ordering his men inside ! He's starting a gang war !)" Suddenly, another Green Gang member rushes into the room, reporting the failure to his boss.
"那你们还在这干嘛? (Then why the f**k are you still chilling around here ?)"Du shouts to his man, as he orders them to counterattack.
Back in the entrance, where Capone and his men have already made their way inside the factory, two of the Green Gang guards on duty hastily grab up their Winchester in a desperate attempt to stop the horde of mobsters from getting in. However, they simply get overwhelmed by the robust Tommy guns, as they topple over riddled with bloody holes on their bodies and slam dead on the floor.
Continuing to push his way through the factory after the American gang splits up to search for Du , one Chicago gangster stumbles upon Diterikhs in one of the hallways. "You damn Americans. " Mutters Diterikhs in heavy Russian accent, as he swiftly dodges an incoming shot from the mobster's lupara. " любительский, I've seen commie farmers handling Fedorov Avtomat for the first time doing a better job than you." The veteran mocks, as he shelters himself behind a pile of cases. Reeling off long string of profanity the distraught gangster discards the clumsy shotgun and switches to his Colt, making several more wasted shots at Diterikhs's hiding spot, before the Russian hit man draws out his Mauser and shows off his marksmanship, hitting the thug right in the face with one single shot. The bullet tears through the man's head, blowing out a large chunk of brain matters and flesh onto the wall behind him as the gangster collapses on the floor .Inspecting the body to make sure he is dead for sure, Diterikhs soon meets his end as he turns back to see another mobster holding Luparar emerging from the other end of the hallway,who spares no hesitation pumping a round into his chest.
At the other corner of the factory, Chen is on his quest for Capone when a sudden pain strikes his back.Out of pure instinct he delivers a fast but heavy kick backward, resulting in a groan. Turning back, Chen sees an American gangster struggling to get back onto his feet. Several inches away from his shaking hands a baseball bat lies on the floor. Before the gangster can reaches for his dropped weapon, Chen stomps on his arm. Roaring in agony, the last thing the mobster witnesses in his career of crime and booze is a large blade swinging down towards his head.
Elsewhere in the factory, Capone and Nitti are locked in a ferocious gunfight against two Green Gangsters. Opening fire with their Tommy Guns behind their respective shelters, neither side seems to be making any actual progress, as most of their bullets end up wasted on their covers. Finally getting tired of this meaningless spam, Capone retrieves a pineapple grenade from his pocket and tosses it towards the table behind which the two Chinese gangsters have been hiding. Almost instantly the bomb goes off, tearing apart the table and piercing one Chinese’s neck with shrapnel. The other gangster , with his shield blown apart, immediately stands up and dashes towards the exit in a desperate attempt to run for his life, only to receive six shot on his back from Capone’s pistol. “Those pathetic cockroaches,” Smirks Capone, “Now let’s find that big ear fella and put him to big sleep.”
At the exact same moment, in the factory canteen, one remaining Chicago gangster, attracted by the vast collection of oriental and exotic food ingredients on display, is too distracted to notice Chen entering the hall. It is too late for him to fight back when the cold barrel of Chinese Mauser puts pressure on the back of his head, generating a pink mist.
Dusting the brain matters off his casquette, Chen is about to exit the room when the Lupara mobster makes his entrance from the south door. Taking aim in haste the mobster lets out a cheap shot which hits the window. Ceasing the opportunity provided by the reloading process of mafia’s favorite killing tool, Chen quickly switches to his Tommy Gun and fills the mobster full of lead.
"F**k, they're all dead." Shouts Capone, as he examines the dead men in the canteen.
"Boss now what're we gonna do ? "
"What do you think we're gonna do ? We're gonna find out Big Ear and blow his brain out. "
"But boss we don't have any more men left."
"Then he shouldn't be having any of his men left either. Listen Nitti that motherf**ker set us up and tries to kill us. Only by killing him can we show the world that no one messes with the Chicago Outfit. You see Nitti, I’m a kind person, I’m kind to everyone, but if you are unkind to me, then kindness is not what you’ll remember me for. Now our Chinese friends here have crossed my bottom line, so it's time to show them.... my unkind side. Now why don't we split up, you take cover behind that table, while I hide behind the counters. Let's wait here for them to arrive. They're searching for us as well, hell there's a time when they've dug into every other corner of this place and found no traces of us, and that's the time when they'll show up here. "
Something's wrong with the canteen.
That's the first thought to pop up in Chen's mind when he returns to the canteen, finding out that some of the pieces of furniture have been moved. A quick spray of his Tommy Gun is enough to reveal a crouching Nitti behind one of the turned tables.
With his shoulder injured, the top lieutenant of big Al shrills in sheer pain, as he struggles to crawl towards the exit."Easy there buddy, I'm just a goon, a random nobody, a barber that is barely used to this, I'm not the real one in charge ! I know you want to find the real one in charge ! I'm telling you, that he is right there, right behind-" Shouts the desperate gangster, as Chen closes the distance. However, his pleads is soon interrupted, as Capone emerges from the backside of the counter, baseball bat in hand.
"You know what are my enthusiasms ? What draws my admiration ? What gives me the purest forms of joy ? Baseball !" Shouts Capone, as he delivers a hard bash on Chen's head,forcing him to kneel down. "Every aspect this sport ignites my passion, looks, throws, catches, hustles, teamwork, babe Ruth, Ty Cobb, and so on. What a f**king amazing sport, don't you agree Nitti ?" Exclaims big Al, as he continues smacking Chen's head with his bat until it becomes a bloody pulp mashed potato seasoned with tomato sauce and cabbage puree, barely resembling a human head.
"So this is Big Ear ? To me his ears doesn't look that huge."
It is at this moment that Du Yue Sheng himself makes his move. The fact that Capone chose a blunt tool instead of any firearms is sufficient enough for him to determine that his enemies have run out of bullets. Chen didn't die in vain, for his death assured him that he is winning.
French Settlement, late at night
"你对我们的帮助会被奖励(Your service to us will be greatly rewarded.)" Says the woman sitting in the shadow while taking a sip at her cup of tea. "那个人和他的黑帮为我们芝加哥的分支制造了许多麻烦。（That man and his operation have been causing a lot of troubles for...our branch in Chicago.）"
"那么我将得到什么奖赏（So what are my rewards ? ）?" Asks Big Ear, as he bows to the woman in a respectful manner.
"A shipment from Abstergo Industries will be arriving in Shanghai at the dock tomorrow morning. You can take whatever you like from the ship. Firearms, opium, drugs, women....Anything you want. " Abruptly switches into English, the woman beams out a mysterious smile, as she places a photo of a young man of African origin on the table. "This man, the Black Cross, will be arriving here in a few days as well. I want him taken care of, and when it's done, you can have more rewards."
"Anything you say." Says Du, as he accepts the photo and starts planning his next plot.
Du Yue Sheng wins this thanks to his better trained, more experienced and better funded subordinates, as well as better weapons in general.
Battle vs. Jesse James (by LokoDito)
Jesse James: Red.pngRed.pngRed.pngRed.pngRed.png
Al Capone: Blue.pngBlue.pngBlue.pngBlue.pngBlue.png
It was a warm afternoon in a dusty city street, somewhere in the urban Midwest, United States. The air bend and wave as the heat made it dance. Moisture had become extinct and the pavement was dry and dusty. It was like hell had risen from the ground to make the people suffer. Then again, with the violence that had been a nature of humankind, hell might as well be the Earth itself.
Al Capone and four of his men were doing their usual business. Large trucks would come in from the Southwest bringing liquid gold from Appalachia. The trucks docked into the side of a street as men came in and strip it off its produce. The products were then hauled to a warehouse to be stored and protected from the eyes of civilians, police, and their fellow badmen. But heck, who would be dumb enough to mess with Al Capone's gang? The dreaded Chicago Outfit itself?
Unfortunately, the world would grant such request...
As the bootleggers worked, they heard the clapping of hooves. It was a peculiar sound, for they were born at a time where horses had left the city streets and migrated to the farms. Yet there was no denying it. Soon, they stared at a group of five men, riding horses like they were cavaliers, wearing slouch hats and white duster coats. The men out of time dismounted off their horses and tied them up a post, before going to a saloon.
"Who the hell are they, boss?" one of the bootlegger asked.
"How the hell should I know... those weirdos..." replied Al Capone. Still, curiosity did took a hold of him. Not to mention those braces of pistols and rifles they were carrying which could mean danger for his crew. "Does any one of you clowns want to check out them out?"
"I'll volunteer, boss," another bootlegger said.
Inside the saloon, the horsemen took no time in making the establishment their own. They grabbed a table and dropped all the cash they made robbing banks, trains, and stagecoaches. There could be hundreds of thousands from their adventures. "Waiter!" one of the men yelled. "Bring us here something to smooth our kisses, will ya?! And put some god damn music in this cesspool!"
The man who yelled was none other than the leader of the group, the outlaw Jesse James. His gang was the most notorious gang that had ever walked the Western territory: the magnificent yet brutal James Younger Gang. No gang was as charming, sophisticated, and bloodthirsty as they were. And they lived up to their name as well, leaving blood and weeping in their wake.
The moment they heard the screams of Jesse James, the establishment did their best to give their best whiskey and brandy. The musician did his best to play his Mozart right. Anything to get something out of that big pile of cash. Everything so these folks could get through this afternoon alive.
"Hey Jesse," one of the bandits said. "See that guy on the door?"
Jesse subtlety looked at the corner of his eye. There he was, the tiny peeping tom spying on their group. Jesse made a smirk and tipped his hat. He then said, "Check this out, boys," before heading out.
The gangster was busy staring at the table full of cash to notice James approaching him. Who were these people? He thought. That's a lot of money. Were they a rival gang? Do they belong to Bugs Moran? But as he continued drowning his mind in thought, the saloon door smashed his nose, making him tumble down. The bridge was wrecked from that slam, and he cried with a bleeding broken smeller.
"Oh, dang it! Didn't see you there, fella!" Jesse James said with a smile. "You alright? Friend?"
"Fuck you! You just broke my nose!" the bootlegger yelled. "Watch where you going!"
"Ah shitfire, I'm sorry. Here, let me help you out."
Jesse James then grabbed the man to his feet. And as he did so, he saw the others - presumably this man's friends - looking at them. They looked mean and tough, and many of them carried an assortment of arms. Jesse James felt the tingle of adrenaline; the sweet hungry tension of action. He gave the bootlegger one final smile before saying, "And you should look out for who you are spying at."
With a flick of his wrist, Jesse draw his revolver and shot the man in the kidney. The man went down yelling in pain and clutching his abdomen, now leaking red and yellow fluid. It was a death shot and a death sentence. Before Al Capone and his men could retaliate, Jesse James emptied his revolver at them before retreating back to the saloon.
"Get your guns and smoke those sons of bitches!" Al Capone yelled as he loaded a fresh drum mag to his tommy gun.
"Holy hannah! Hahahahaha!" Jesse James laughed as the people inside went frantic. "The hell happened?!" one of his bandits asked.
"We're back in action, boys!" yelled Jesse as he ordered them all to grab their rifles and cover all windows and doors.
The Chicago Outfit unleashed their submachine gun at the saloon. The gunfighters’ poor beasts could do nothing but catch bullets as they tried to escape their leashes. While the brick wall withstood the fire, glass and other debris rained down on the James-Younger Gang. "What the hell?!" Jesse yelled. "Are those... handheld gatlings?!"
"What are we going to do?!" yelled one of the bandits. But as soon as he bellowed that powerful question, he accidentally lifted his head a little, enough for two bullets to enter his dome, killing him. "Ah shit..." remarked Jesse.
Al Capone loaded up another fresh mag after emptying his. He then yelled, "Get inside that house, now!" His men then charged towards the single door of the establishment, firing their weapon as they go. But it was a decent distance, just enough for the bandits to peek out and take aim. Their Spencer and Winchester rifles started to hit them home, making the bootleggers retreat. Sadly, one of them was hit by sniper in the neck, killing him.
"No sand, boys!" Jesse celebrated. "No sands! These people can't even hit us accurately with them fancy guns."
"Dammit!" Al Capone cursed. As his men continued to fire, their submachine guns sprayed aimlessly while rifle fire poke at them from their cover. The syndicate leader knew he had to do something. Such a stalemate was bad for business. With people running away for their lives, gunshot filling the air, it would not be long before the law caught up with them and spell their doom. Yet again, as a man who practiced the ways of the Cosa Nostra, he would not let the deaths of his men be unavenged either.
"You!" Al Capone pointed towards one his capo. He then pointed him to one of the empty trucks that was used to deliver liquor. "Get in there and use it to ram that place. We'll cover you."
"Y-Yes boss!" the bootlegger said. He climbed up the truck and pressed on the accelerator. As he shifted gears, him and both parties could feel the speed increasing. Jesse James saw what he was doing and aimed his Winchester rifle. The bandit scored a direct hit to the guy's heart, killing him. Yet it was too late, as the truck continued to move, crashing into the saloon. A poor bandit was hit by that truck, pushing him down and crushing his whole body flat on one of its large wheels. It was a painful death.
"Come on! We don't got all day!" Al Capone ordered his remaining man to charge towards the now open saloon. When Al Capone and his man finally got inside, they saw one of the bandits, his ribs cracked from a direct impact from the truck.
"H-Help... me..." the bandit pleaded as blood spat out of his mouth.
"Wanna do the honors?" Al Capone said to his bootlegger. The bootlegger shot the man with a healthy dose of buckshot to the face. Suddenly, Jesse James and his remaining bandit burst out of the second floor in a blaze of glory, yelling like crazy. Capone’s gangster was hit multiple times in the chest from the bandit's revolvers. Al Capone managed to draw his revolver in time, shooting a bandit and making him fall comically from the balcony.
Jesse James then turned his revolvers on him. Al Capone took cover behind a wooden column and kept firing. As his revolver ran out, James jumped out of the second floor and landed to near to where Al Capone was, before hiding behind a table. All the money they'd made was scattered all throughout the floor. But Jesse did not mind. He only cared for blood now.
Al Capone, however, was prepared to propose something different. "You stopped shooting?" he asked. "Guess you also ran out of bullets, huh?"
"Shut up carpet bagger..."
"Listen to me! I have heard about you. Hell, I've used your name once. Maybe we can have a deal? You're a Southern gentlemen, are you not?"
"I don't make deals with plump bastards."
"Maybe you'll like this one. You see, I've run out of bullets too. Maybe we can settle this the honorable way instead. Let’s finish this like men!”
Jesse James once again, laughed at what he was experiencing. This day could not get any better. This will make a great story for Frank and his family. A carpet bagger, challenging him, a Southern gentleman, to a fair fight.
"Alright then..." Jesse James said as he drew his bowie knife and got off his cover. Al Capone himself grabbed a Louisville Slugger decor that fell from the column.
He then stood up and approached Jesse, his bat ready for battle. "Let's dance, cowboy."
Capone made the first swing, making Jesse back away as its superior reach almost got him. Jesse then made a thrust with his knife at Capone’s belly but the gangster dodged it. Capone countered by smashing the butt of his bat at Jesse’s chest, scoring a direct hit. Although winded, Jesse made a wild swing as Capone tried to get close, cutting him in the cheek. Pissed, Capone hit Jesse in the stomach, before wrapping the bat around the gunfighter’s neck.
“You are dead!” he yelled.
“Ha! Show it, then!” replied Jesse as he flipped Capone from his back and unto the ground. Capone quickly got up, making Jesse retreat. As he retreated, he tried to throw his bowie knife. Capone felt the sharp pain and blood gush out of his shoulder, but continued on as Jesse was finally cornered.
“Not so tough now are you, prick!”
“Woah, partner. Let’s talk about this…”
A hard swing to the temple got Jesse landing on the floor. As the young bandit bled, he muttered, “My wife… my kids…” But it was all for naught, as Capone mercilessly crushed his head like a watermelon with his bat. Jesse's body convulsed, rattled, before the remaining air finally left his caved chest. That’s what you get for messing with Capone's business.
Winner: Al Capone
Al Capone won because of his 50-year tech gap against Jesse James. Although the bold robber has experience, Capone’s technology was too much for them to handle, not to mention the automatic weapons, superior mid-range weapons, and smokeless gunpowder advantage. In a battle where there are no quick draw bullshit, Al Capone won with his tommy gun.To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.
Battles here were deemed to be unfair or otherwise not in accordance with wiki standards, and have been removed from the statuses of the warriors and displayed below.
Battle vs. John Dillinger (by Tesla Man)
(Opional Background Music http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GlEcV91LxPc&feature=related)
It was quiet, in fact, it was very quiet.
Its was a special kind of silence, like a deadly silence, the kind of silence that makes a pin dropped across the ocean sound like a jet plane taking off .
It was a miserable place at Alcatraz, a place filled with concrete walls, and iron doors, it was like a prison, but in fact, it was a prison.
It was the middle of the night and lights out had been hours ago, leavig those still awake in complete darkness. When its lights out at at Alcatraz, they realy mean lights out. There is a special type of darkness that only Alcatraz could obtain, a type of darkness that you could feel, the darkness was a jumble of all the misery, pain, and tourture the last inmates to have stepped into those damned halls.
Alcatraz was home to some of the worst ciminals history books wrote about. People like Machine Gun Kelly and the Birdman have walked these halls, but now its Capones turn to do some time.
Alphonse Capone sat in his very own cell number 443. He had been moved thier temperarly while more inmates come walking into these halls.
Capone sat on his bed, staring at the wall with a psychopathic glare like the other inmates who were still awake. Capone's eyes looked as if they were painted red. veins popped out of his eyes, straining to get out, while below them bags formed under his eyes from no sleep.
Capone had a tendency to not sleep at Alcatraz, Some inmates say he was driven insane by the same ghost attacking him at Eastern State Penitentiary, others say he has no eyelids, while the rest know better as to stay out Big Al's business.
Capone, with his blood-shot eyes, looked down at the floor, the faint glimmer of a glass bottle he had been passing back and forth between feet, rolled across the floor from his left foot to his right foot. He looked up at the ceiling,
The plaster on the ceiling was cracked and ripped from the last inmate trying to escape. Capone knew not to escape, even if he did make it out of cell block B, he wouldn't be able to get across the bay. The unforgiving bay. And if he made it across the bay, he still wouldn't survive. He's been reading the newspapers lately, and there was a supposed serial killer on the loose, and there's no doubt he'd be the killers next target.
He fell backwards on his bed as he continued with staring up at the ceiling.
Its just not possible, there is a reason they call it 'The Rock'
He looked at the lights. Two fluorescent light bulbs, one with a crack in it, spilling out all the gas, making it seamless, while the other had a tendency to flicker.
He looked down at his feet again, reaching out his arm to pick up the bottle. A Coca-Cola bottle he received for good behavior the night before. It was empty but he still kept it with him because it was the last shred of happiness in the dark and gloomy cell.
He smiled, it was comforting to know there was still some happiness in the hellhole that is Alcatraz.
He felt like closing his eyes, but he knew he shouldn't, he didn't know why he didn't sleep. He believed it was because his body has a natural tendency to stay on guard, the medic at Alcatraz said its because of stress, but whatever the cause, it wasn't good, Capone needed to sleep.
He had read a magazine article about how you would die of sleep depression faster than you would starvation, so he knew if he kept staying awake, he'll eventually die, and he never wanted to die in the place he despised the most.
He had been on this "awake streak" for about 3 days now and it was starting to get the best of him. He had been muttering things that even he didn't know what they meant. He would also start shaking that would consume him so much he couldn't move. But the worst of it, During some nights when he tried to go to sleep, he would sit up in his bed and start screaming, as if he was driven insane.
But the truth was, he was already driven insane.
He picked up the Coca-Cola bottle once more and stared at his reflection in it. The green tinted glass distorted his image, but that didn't matter to him, all he needed to see was some part of his face to prove to himself, he was a monster.
He seized the bottle, his grip tightening, and without thinking, he let out a scream and launched the bottle out of his hand.
Time seemed to slow down, its seemed as if time itself had ceased to move on. The bottle spun slowly, getting closer to the concrete wall by the second, and then...
Hundreds of tiny, bits of glass exploded and erupted from the wall, making the cell block sound like a bar during a fight. The soft pitter patter of glass rumbled on the floor, making it sound like it was raining glass, and then all in a flash, time returned to its normal speed.
"Capone!" The words echoed down the hallway as the guard came up to inspect the sounds source. To him, it was obvious, it was Capone, everything bad had to do with Capone in the guards mind.
The Guard stormed over and swung his baton against the iron bars, the sound bounced around in the cell, making Capone's eardrums ring violently.
"Yes Walter?" His voice was sarcastic, it was obvious to any open ear, but Walter didn't get the hint.
"How many times do i have to tell you!" Walter cleared his throat. "Go to sleep!"
Walter was maybe in his mid 50s. His black suit was ironed so much it seemed like glass, his cap was slightly tilted to the side. But what Capone remembered him by was his mustache. A big, bushy painter's brush mustache covered his entire top lip.
He licked his lips and cleared his throat with the assistance of his fist. "We got a new kid coming in and i don't want you setting a bad example, you got me?"
Capone stared at him then nodded. He was in half nod, when Another guard called for Walter.
"Let me handle Capone for the night."
The voice was familiar, ad when he heard it, Capone grew into a smile. It was Dennis.
Dennis was an all around good guy. He was a Warden, much like Walter, but he was more than a Warden to Capone. Dennis was a friend.
Dennis marched over to Capone's cell and looked behind the bars.
"How'ya doin' buddy?" Dennis' mouth rose into a smirk.
"Just fine Dennis." Capone laughed.
Dennis put his hands in a fist and placed them over his hips, imitating Walter. Capone burst out into a laughing fit.
"Oh, Im Walter, i'm going to take you to jail because you forgot to tie your shoe laces!" Dennis imitated Walters muffled voice, and he did a surprisingly good job imitating Mr. Mustache.
Capone fell backwards onto his bed, laughing and grinning while staring up at the ceiling.
"oh, i almost forgot, stay here." He held out his hands as if telling a dog to stay, but the fact was, where else could he go? he's trapped between 3 walls of 5 foot thick concrete. "Ill be right back, i have a surprise for you." Dennis ran off, as Capone laid on his bed once again.
About a minute had past by the time Dennis returned, holding something behind his back.
"well, what is it Dennis?" Capone sat back up.
Dennis did his best french butler imitation. holding one hand behind his back while the other placed a cup of Hot Chocolate on the floor, gently saying, "There you are monsieur." As he slowly backed away.
Capone reached down for the Hot Chocolate. The whip cream dispersed itself throughout the cup. The aroma was intense, filing the cell with the satisfying smells of warm chocolate and peppermint. He raised the cup to his lips and drank. Immediately, warmth ran don his spine, followed by a burst of mint. He lowered the glass, "Thank you Dennis."
Dennis nodded his head and glanced at his clock.
"Oh, i'm sorry Al, you can keep the cup, i have to go help the new guy in, apparently he's been running from the law for a year now, and he finally has a date with The Rock.
Dennis winked and tipped his hat as he turned around and ran off.
Capone took another sip of the Coca then placed the cup on his desk. He jumped on the bed a lowered his head to the pillow. It was soft, like a feather, no, like a pile of feathers. His eyelids felt like they were made of Iron, he slowly lowered them, like you would when you finish lifting weights.
It was then, when Capone had his best sleep yet since his sentence to Alcatraz.
♦ ♦ ♦
He stared up at the lunch menu, pondering over getting either broccoli or spinach.
He looked down on his plate, he had a sloppy joe and some sort of, well, he didn't know what it was, it was a gooey substance like Jell-o, but it looked like it was made of meat. He cringed.
"Ill take the broccoli." Capone pointed to the bin filled with the little green trees.
The lady scooped up the Broccoli in the massive ladle and dumped the broccoli on his plate.
The lady, still looking at the box of broccoli, took a deep breath, "You get a good sleep last night Al?"
Of course she knew, after all, she is Dennis' wife
Capone shook his head, "Better than any, Betty"
Al turned to the tables in the mess hall. It was a massive complex that allowed Al 20 minutes outside of his cell, full of about 30 tables, and all of his inmates.
Al chose a table and sat down, a table that was far away from any trouble, where he could eat in peace.
He impaled is broccoli as juice gushed out, making the vegetable soggy and wet. Al sighed, and brought the food up to his face. He was about half way to his mouth, holding his breath to get rid of the smell. The food scraped his teeth as it went in, it rolled over his tongue, he chewed, cringing at the taste of a soggy vegetable, he took another bite, worst than the first, and then his savior came.
"So what'ya doin' Big Al?" Al swallowed his food, it slid down his throat like a green worm.
He looked over at the man who had sat next to him. It was Benny.
Al beamed a smile and laughed wrapping his left arm around his shoulder and playfully punched his shoulder.
"So what bring you back?" Al looked at Benny, still smiling.
"I 'borrowed' another car" Benny put air quotes around borrowed.
About a month ago, Benny was put on probation early for good behavior, but what made it even better is that he got into Alcatraz the second time the same way he got in the first.
"Some people never learn Benny" Al shook his head with a smile.
Benny was a skinny, scrawny man, but he was crafty and the Houdini of cell doors. He had slick, black hair, with a fancy for sideburns. they looked at each other, They were both wearing the same "Regulation No. 32" blue uniform.
"Its nice to be back in my old clothes again." Benny smirked, laughing at his sarcasm.
They continued to eat, Capone finished the rest of his sloppy joe and he had been pushing the Jell-o stuff around his plate with his for, checking to see that it didn't eat him before he could put it on his fork.
He looked down at the broccoli. The last broccoli he ate almost made him throw up if it weren't for Benny coming. He looked down at the ground underneath the table, seeing if he could get away with it.
He lowered the plate under the table and pushed the wet, gooey broccoli to the ground, swallowing down his breakfast as he saw it plop to the floor.
He turned, checking to see if anyone had noticed, and i couldn't had been worse.
There he was, standing in his warden officer with that mustache gleaming in the incandescent light.
Capone's heart sank as Walter whispered in his ear. "For some reason, i can never seem to 'get to know you. But thats all about to change, Walters taking a break, so i think i should 'privately escort' you back to your cell for making such a mess."
Capone stood up as Walter tied cuffs around his wrist.
He hated the things, they were never big enough for his wrist to fit into and they always left red marks afterwards.
a crash rang out on the other side of the mess hall. Walter turned, he tried to resist getting someone else in trouble.
"Umm... Stay here, ill be right back." Walter rushed to the other side of the mess hall.
Capone gestured to Benny, lock pick extraordinaire. He took his fork and stuck one of the metal prongs into the lock and twisted. A click whispered softly into the air as the cuffs gently came crashing to the ground.
Capone turned and nodded his head towards Benny as he got down low and scampered into the kitchen with Betty. She looked down at him and mouthed the words "what are you doing?" Capone brushed away the question with a wave of his hand.
"Betty, may i hide in the kitchen? Mr. Mustache has it good on me." Betty turned
"Well honey, down in the back of the kitchen theres a freezer, hide there, i don't know how long you'll be able to hide, but its worth a shot." Betty pointed behind her deep into the kitchen.
Capone stood, "Thanks Betty." He kissed her on the cheek and ran off.
"Capone may not pay taxes, but he's quite the gentleman." Betty whispered to herself as she continued serving toxic waste to the inmates.
Capone ran up to the freezer, looking inside the fogged up glass window. He saw an outline of a person in there, rummaging through the ice then eventually turning to the door.
Capone dove behind a waste bin.
The metal door swung open as a man walked out, maybe in his twenties or so. He had a very definite cleft chin and a thin mustache that sat on his upper lip. He wore the same "Regulation No. 36" Uniform as Al, showing he was from Capone's cell block.
Capone took another look from behind the waste bin at the prisoner. He had an ice pick in his and as he turned around quickly, staying on guard. He wasn't supposed too be there, so he had to take precautions. He slowly turned his head back around, but snapped it back, seeing a man behind the bin duck.
The prisoner slowly walked towards the waste bin, as he swung his arm to the other side, smashing the ice pick into... metal.
He walked around to the other side, no one.
This battle will not be finished, because the author has been banned.
WINNER: AL CAPONE
Al was one of the most ruthless and intelligent mobsters to exist. He was highly intelligent, ruthless and intuitive. He grew up on the toughest streets of Chicago, as well as packed Tommy gun that swept everyone down onto the ground. Dillinger fell short of this in every category.