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Mickey emptied the entire clip of his Colt M1911 into the tellers’ window causing him to duck down for cover. Mickey loaded a new clip and grabbed the bag of money from his partner’s bloody hands, who was lying face down in a pool of blood. Backing up Mickey looked around the bank as helpless people screamed for their lives; he grabbed a young looking girl and wrapped his arm that had the bag of money around her neck. The teller rose from behind the counter and fired one round at Mickey grazing the entire length of his arm before the teller took a round right between the eyes. Mickey pulled the girl out of the bank, took one last look at his dead partner and knew his was in hole he couldn't get out of. After shoving her into the Cadillac stationed out front for the gateway he sat down in the driver’s seat and sped away from the scene. He cocked the hammer of his pistol and pointed it directly at her,

“Now listen very carefully,” Mickey said trying to catch his breath “So long as you don’t do anything stupid, I don’t pull the trigger and splatter your brains. Understand?”

Cali nodded, fear widening her eyes. The bag around her neck was damp with blood, and her hands shook as they pulled it away. She tied her hair back quickly and efficiently, hoping to hide her nervousness with that gesture. She leaned around the gun, still planted unswervingly in her face." What's your name? I swear I won't do anything."

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Mickey looked at her for a brief second out of the corner of his eye before making his way toward the outskirts of New York City to a small hideout in the forest. After about five minutes he finally spoke…

“My names Mickey,” he said gazing out the window “And as of right now I can’t trust you, but as long as you cooperate you’ll live.”

Mickey heard the loud roar of engine coming up fast on them and knew it meant one of two things; one the police were on him or two his employer’s son’s death had been told to him by the lookout. Mickey stuck his head out the window and looked back. What he saw was a black 1928 Cadillac, identical to his, speeding up to catch him.

“Shit” he said rather pessimistically “I was hoping it was the police.”

Cali craned her head back, watching the beautiful matched car sidle close to them. She had been rather hoping it was the police as well. Cooperation? Hell if he was going to get that. She settled for nodding meekly.

I'll live? How serious was this Mickey? 'Oh, if only I'd chosen tommorow to go to the bank...'. She tugged nervously on the edge of her sleeve, noticing how his hard eyes catalogued every move she made, even as the car shifted and thrust forward. Her hand toyed with the car handle. It was a beautiful model.

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hey guys come play my rp that i made its realy good

The other car approached Mickey’s at an alarming rate and drove up next to him.

“Come on Mickey,” said the man in the passenger seat “The boss already knows what happened; don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

Mickey pointed his pistol at the man and smiled as he pulled the trigger. The passenger’s head shot back and then limped forward as Mickey managed to shot the front tire. The messenger car spun out of control as Mickey drove away. He looked at the wound he suffered back at the bank, it had opened up quite a bit and blood was beginning to cover most of his sleeve.

“Just remember,” Mickey said softly as he noticed her hand on the handle “Don’t do anything stupid.”

She nodded again, hand pulling slowly away from the handle as she kept her eyes locked to his. He had just shot that man. She could feel her breath escaping her in short sharp pants, and knew her eyes were wide with fear.

She heard a low hiss of pain and glanced to see her sleeve brushing on his wounded arm. From the bank. When...when he...She swallowed hard. He was a killer, and she was his hostage.

Placing her hand gently in her lap, she smoothed her skirt. "Where are we going?" Her eyes flicked to his face and then away, afraid to stay on him for too long.

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“A small little cabin in the woods outside of the city,” Mickey said pushing the pedal down to the floor “One of the hideouts I use.”

Mickey thought about this carefully; he knew the commotion from the bank would die down for the police, but from his boss well that was an entirely different situation. Finally reaching the road that would take them toward the hideout Mickey pulled the car over to the side.

“Now listen,” Mickey said looking at the girl he was holding hostage directly in her eyes “You tell anyone how to get here and you’ll be buried in a shallow grave with lime poured on top, so do you best to not memorize the route. Got it?”

Jack O'Lanterns was squatting on a rooftop, looking for a likely place to set on fire.
"Man," he said, "this place is still as dull as toast." He sighed, looking one last time before leaving.
The sound of gunfire caught his notice, and he turned to see two Cadillacs driving side by side, one falling behind. "Ha!", he shouted, climbing down from the rooftop, "Finally, something interesting!"

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Skinner was watching. He was in his Crossley. It was gift from a friend. It helped shipping large amounts of weapons, explosives, the likes. He was doing a hit. Some old guy who owns a bookstore. "What a nice day" He mumbled and grabbed his Thompson. It came with the van. It was a terrible gun to him. The old man was having a smoke. But, something more interesting was happening down the road. He drove further and noticed two Cadillacs. Was someone holding up a bank?

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