"And you're sure you found it in a Corleone controlled warehouse right," Marsellus asks.
"Yes. I'd rather not reveal my sources but I can confirm the Corleones have been using the place as a basis for their smuggling operations" Marsellus leans back in his chair, his expression contemplative.
"I see," he says after an age. "Well I thank you for helping us in this matter Mr?"
"Bond. James Bond." Jules raises his eyebrows at this but Marsellus' expression doesn't change.
"Well then Mr Bond. I understand that you're currently homeless. Well as thanks for your service I've made arrangements for you to stay with some of my guys. I've got several places picked out in the white collar district, you probably won't be able to stay in any one place for more than a few days but we can keep a roof over you head until you get back on your feet."
"Thank you," Bond replies and Marsellus stands to shake his hand. Jules watches as Bond leaves the room, closing the door behind him and walking over to Marsellus' desk.
"James Bond?! Is this guy some kind of nutjob? He ain't look like no James Bond I know of," he says.
"Nothing surprises me about this place anymore," Marsellus says as he sits down. He runs his hands over his briefcase, relieved to have it back after almost a month. "Now we know who was behind this. It was the Corleones."
"What are we going to do about it Boss?"
"You tell me Jules. Give me a rundown of the options."
"Well we can't start an all out war here. The Corleones are strong, they've been established longer than we have and just about every Mafia group in this city are behind them. We have our own connections sure but we can't match them in terms of firepower."
"That's true. Using an assassin is also out of the question. Remember when I first came here? I saw the Corleones were a threat and I decided to take out that Don of theirs, weaken them a bit you know. I was told that bouncer from the Iceberg Lounge was a good so I hired him to do the hit. You remember how well that went right?" Jules shudders as he remembers the sight of the would be assassin's head laying at the foot of Marsellus' bed.
"So if you can't match them in a mob war and we can't use an assassin to get at their leaders then what the fuck can we do?
"If there's one thing I've learned Jules it's that every man has his weakness. For some it is drugs, for others it's women and some let their pride fuck with them. When it comes to these Italian fellows there ain't nothing more important to them than family. Tell me what do we know about the Corleones?"
"Well the head of the family is this guy called Vito. He has two sons, Sonny and Fredo..."
"Now see Jules that is where you are wrong my friend. Vito has three sons. His other son is Michael Corelone. From what I heard he was the guy running things for them for a while. But do you remember that little uprising that happened a while back."
"That shit with the Wolves?" Jules says confused.
"Yeah, that shit with the Wolves. Well Michael was involved with the Wolves and once those motherfuckers in charge got wind of his involvement they had him collared. Well apparently his family didn't take to kindly to that and they shunned him. That's why you ain't heard of him, he lives in his own house, a piece of shit in the slums from what I heard."
"Yeah and?" Jules says. "How does this help us?" As he says that it dawns on him. "Oh I see. We're going to use him to get at his old man right?"
"This is why I keep you around Jules, you've got brains as well as brawns," Marsellus says, a rare smile across his face.
"But like you said those Italian guys are real big on family. What makes you think he's going to turn on his family, even after what they did to him?"
"Every man has his weakness," Marsellus repeats. "I want you to get in contact with the Guild, tell them that operation Elmer Fudd is a go."
Michael Corleone: The reluctant don of the Corleone crime family.
vs
Marsellus Wallace: Notorious crime boss of Los Angeles.
Who is Deadliest
Michael Corleone
| “ | If anything in this life is certain, if history has taught us anything, it is that you can kill anyone.
— Michael Corleone
|
” |
Michael Corleone is the youngest son of mafia boss Vito Corleone but unlike his two eldest brothers he did not want to go into the family business. Serving as a marine during WW2 he was injured and given a medical discharge returning home in time for his sister's wedding. Shortly after his father was gunned down in an attempted assassination which spurred Michael into conspiring with his family to have the men responsible murdered. Carrying out the shooting himself he fled to Sicily where he met and married a woman named Apollonia. For a time it seemed his wish for a honest life would come to fruition until his older brother Sonny was murdered and Apollonia was killed by a car bomb intended for him. These events hardened Michael and lead to him taking over from his father as Don and restoring his family's power and status by arranging the assassination of the rival families Dons.
Smith & Wesson Model 36
Used during his assassination of Sollozzo and McCluskey, the Smith and Wesson Model 36 is a double action revolver. It has a five round chamber of .38 Special bullets and has an effective range of about 25 metres although it has a maximum of about 45 metres.
Ithaca 37
The Ithaca 37 is a pump action shotgun with a five round tubular magazine of 12 gauge rounds.
M1A1 Thompson
The M1A1 Thompson comes with a 30 round box magazine of .45 APC bullets, a rate of fire of 600-700rpm, a muzzle velocity of 285 m/s and an effective range of 150 metres.Marsellus Wallace
| “ | You see, this profession is filled to the brim with unrealistic motherfuckers. Motherfuckers who thought their ass would age like wine. If you mean it turns to vinegar, it does. If you mean it gets better with age, it don't.
— Marsellus Wallace
|
” |
Marsellus Wallace is a powerful crime boss in Los Angeles, with connections all across the criminal underworld and runs most of his business through the Inglewood strip club. Marsellus pays off an aging boxer named Butch to throw a fight for him however Butch renegades on the deal, betting money on himself and killing Marsellus' boxer in the process. Greatly angered at being betrayed, Marsellus send out his goons to hunt Butch down but it is Marsellus himself who ends up running into Butch. After a chase through the streets the two are knocked unconscious and held captive by a pair hillbilly rapists. Marsellus is selected by the pair to be their first victim and he is assaulted until Butch saves him, having broken free of his restraints and attacked the pair with a Katana. As thanks for saving him Marsellus allows Butch to leave with his life, on the condition he never returns to Los Angeles and never tells a soul about what happened.
Smith & Wesson 4500
Marsellus' sidearm of choice is the Smith and Wesson 4500. It is a semi-automatic pistol with eight round magazine of .45 ACP Bullets and has an effective range of 50 metres.
Remington 870
The Remington 870 is a pump action shotgun with a six round internal tube magazine of 12 gauge rounds.
X Factors
Experience: Corleone=80/Wallace=65
As the leaders of their respective crime syndicates neither Michael nor Marsellus would be involved in much combat in their daily lives. Both have been shown willing to get their hands dirty if need be but in that regard they are about even. However Michael gets a big boost in his experience as he was a Marine prior to becoming Don and served in both Europe and the Pacific. Marsellus meanwhile has no known experience, military or otherwise.
Logistics/Troop Quality: Corleone=90/Wallace=90
I've put these two together because they both directly correlate. Both men are exceedingly rich and have their hands in a lot of pies, so funding their operations is not going to be a problem. A result of this wealth means they can also afford to hire higher quality warriors to help them in this battle.
Intelligence: Corleone=85/Wallace=75
Michael is an incredibly cunning and intelligent individual and it is this cunning that helped him establish the power of the Corleone family. He has been shown directly tricking the opposing families by allowing them to muscle in on his territory, making them think that he is weak and lowering their guard so he can strike against them in one bloody day of murder. Marsellus has no real show of great intelligence nor any show of great stupidity either.
Voting System/Notes
Battle takes place in DFederal.
Both Michael and Marsellus will be accompanied by four men each.
In order to be counted in full, votes must be at least 5 lines long or have been done in an edge format.
Anything less than 5 lines but which is competently argued and thought out will be counted as a half vote. I will inform anybody if their vote is considered a half vote and allow them to amend it to bring it up to a full point.
Irrelevant votes will not be counted at all.
I reserve the right to award a vote as half or discount it entirely for reason not mentioned here if I feel it is applicable.
Battle
The Bunny Situation
The door to the Stacked Deck swings open as Michael Corleone enters the brothel. Two men sat at the front desk look up briefly, before returning to their conversation. Michael approaches the desk, stopping and waiting for the pair to stop talking. When, after several minutes, no such thing looks likely he coughs gently to get their attention.
“Is Panne available?” he asks.
“No,” comes the reply, from dark skinned man with blond hair before returning to his conversation.
“Well can you let me know when she’s finished?” Michael says interrupting.
“She’s not with a client. She’s just not here,” the blond says.
“What do you mean she’s not here? Where is she then?” Michael says before they can begin talking again. The man shrugs and Michael can feel his annoyance rising. “Then can I speak to Chalis?”
“The Madame is very busy; she doesn’t have time…”
“She’ll speak to me. Just get her.” Michael says cutting them off. The blonde sighs.
“Squalo ring the Madame for me would you.” Squalo picks up the phone, pressing the quick dial button for Chalis.
“Sorry to bother you Madame but we’ve got a customer here who wants to talk to you. He’s asking about one of our girls… Panne… He has one of those control collars on… Okay see you soon.” He puts down the phone and looks back at Michael. “She’s coming down now.” After a few seconds Chalis appears from another room.
“Oh Mike what is it with you and that woman,” she says. “We’ve got plenty of other girls here. Misuzu, Hitomi, Miu. We’ve even got some male prostitutes if you swing that way as well. I know my two receptionists here are enamoured with one Frenchman in particular. But no, you always want her.”
“I’ve been told she isn’t here. Do you know where she is?”
“I don’t. I last saw her a couple of days ago.”
“Well, if you hear from her, can you let me know?” He turns and leaves, the seeds of worry growing in his mind.
Meanwhile, high above the city on the top level of a skyscraper, Bruno Bucciarati awaits the reason for his latest summoning.
“How well do you know the Corleone Family?” Wass asks,
“Fairly well. They’re one of the few gangs in this city who don’t deal in drugs so I’ve done some work for them in the past. Why?”
“I want you to keep an eye on their activities. I’ve been hearing rumours about a feud they’re embroiled in with Marsellus Wallace and his gang. It could get ugly and I don’t want it to get too out of hand. If you find anything interesting, I want to hear about it. Understood?”
“I understand,” Bruno says, inclining his head slightly before leaving. Wass leans back in his chair, rubbing his mask where his eyes would be. The phone on his desk rings and he looks at the caller ID, groaning when he sees the name “Beast” flash up.
“God not again,” he mutters to himself, remembering the hour-long phone call he took earlier that morning. “He’s been really obsessed with citizen rights lately. I don’t know what’s possessed him,” he ponders. Looking over at his television he sees an advertisement flash up for a rerun of the Juuni Taisen Battle Royale coming up in the next few minutes. “Sod it,” he says, turning up the volume and leaving the phone to ring out.
Michael scrambles through the door to his house in the slums, hastily sliding across the makeshift bolt lock. Something thumps into the creaky wooden door, making it shake violently but it manages to hold strong. Michael cautiously walks over to it, peering through a small hole in the wood. Outside a raptor cocks it head at the door, as if it is trying to figure out a way past it before scurrying off. Michael lets out a sigh of relief.
“They’re clever girls, aren’t they?” comes a voice from behind him. Michael whirls around and reaches for the holster on his belt, cursing as he realises, he forgot to take his revolver with him. “Don’t worry we’re not here to rob you,” says the man. “My name is Robert Muldoon. This is my associate Clayton. We’re from the Hunters Guild, we help keep people safe from the creatures running amok in this place.”
“Look I don’t care who you are,” Michael says. “Just tell me why you’re here if it isn’t to rob me.”
“Now now, no need to be rude old boy,” Clayton says. “We’re here on behalf of a client of ours. He wanted us to give you this.” He takes out a small tablet, handing it to Michael who accepts it cautiously. Looking at the screen his heart drops as he sees Panne, metal chains fastening her to the inside of a giant cage.
“What have you done to her?” he says angrily.
“Like I said we’re from the Hunters Guild, we deal with animals. And your lover there well, she comes under that remit.”
“Where is she,” Michael snarls, tearing his eyes away from the screen to glare at the two hunters.
“We can’t tell you. All we’re here to do is deliver a message.”
“And just who is this client you mentioned?”
“Marsellus Wallace. If you ever want to see your beloved again then you’ll need to discuss the terms of her release with him.” Michael’s gaze returns to the screen, watching as Panne struggles in vain against her restraints.
“I’ll find you,” he whispers, stroking the screen affectionately.
An Offer that Cannot be Refused
Michael looks up at the name of the club, The Closet, with a degree of trepidation. He’d heard about this place before, the sort of degeneracy that goes on inside it. Still if he wants to get his beloved back, this is the place to do it. He steps through the door, being hit immediately by the blaring of noise as ‘I Will Survive’ blasts through the club. He pushes his way through the groups of dancers to the bar and the bartender, a man dressed in a blue pilot’s uniform with a red helmet, walks over to him. “What can I get you friend? Personally, I’d recommend the PAWNCH,” he says, indicating the large punch bowl behind him.
“I’m here to meet Marsellus Wallace. My name is Michael Corleone,” Michael replies. The bartenders cheerful smile fades and he nods.
“Wait here, I’ll see if he’s available” he says and wanders off. Not long after he does a man dressed in bronze armour sidles up to Michael.
“I’ve not seen you around here before,” he says slyly. “My name’s Alexander, but all my friends call me Al. And what brings you here this fine night?” Michael tries to ignore him but Alexander persists. “I’m here with my boyfriend Anton,” he continues gesturing behind him and Michael can’t help but glance over, seeing a man dressed like he’s heading to a funeral rather than a bar, glaring at him. “Don’t worry though, we have an arrangement,” Alexander says leaning in closer.
“I’m not interested,” Michael says turning away from him.
“Ooh, playing hard to get are we. I can show you a great time don’t you worry.”
“I said. I’m. Not. Interested,” Michael repeats, coldly. Alexander finally seems to take the hint and shrugs, walking away just as the bartender returns.
“Come with me,” he says and Michael follows him to a backroom. Knocking on the door sharply three times, a metal eye slot slides open before the sound of a lock being unbolted and Michael is ushered inside. The room is small but lavishly furnished, with an assortment of weaponry hung up on the walls. Michael keeps his expression passive as he is lead to a chair, sitting down across from the man he is here to meet.
“I’m not going to fuck about here Michael,” Marsellus says. “During my short time in this shithole I’ve seen some crazy shit and I’ve been involved in some crazy shit. I’ve seen gangs rise and fall. Some have been crushed and disbanded, others have been absorbed into other more powerful syndicates. I would know, I’ve taken part in a few of those wars myself. The Bloods, Pablo Escobar, those weird ass crocodile motherfuckers. I’ve dealt with all of them. But there is one enemy that still remains.”
“Let me guess, my father.”
“Yes. Now Michael, your family has treated you poorly. What kind of father lets his son rot away in the slums when he has the connections and power that he has. He could’ve put you up with the rest of your family. And yet they abandoned you as soon as things got difficult.”
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about my family that way,” Michael says, a hardness creeping into his voice.
“I’m just trying to tell you that there’s no point in staying loyal to them when they have not repaid that loyalty.” Michael doesn’t respond and Marsellus sighs.
“I thought you might do this. So enough of being nice. We have that whore of yours locked away, someplace where you’ll never find her. You ever want to see her again, then listen up.” Michael sits up straighter at the mention of Panne. “I want you to go to your father and tell him I want to meet him, to straighten shit out with him and move forward. I’ve picked out a place on neutral territory, a bar called the Jar of Dirt, owned by a guy called Jack Sparrow. I want you to arrange for a meeting there at midday two days from now, between your father and I.”
“He’ll never agree to that,” Michael interrupts.
“Well then you make him agree. Otherwise, the next time you see that bitch of yours she won’t be all in one piece. You understand that motherfucker?” Marsellus says. Michael holds his gaze and after what seems like an age, nods his head stiffly. “I’m glad we understand each other.” Marsellus snaps his fingers and Jules saunters over. “Would you escort Mr Corleone out of here,” he says and both men rise. After he has left, Jules bolts the door shut and sits down in Michael’s seat.
“So, do you think he’ll do it?”
“I don’t know Jules. It depends where his loyalty lies, to his family or to his woman…”