The fight had been going on for just over an hour. The already dirty mat had been further sullied by the blood of all the competitors of the battle royal. Only two of the fighters remained on their feet, the bulky Polish factory worker people call Tank and a smaller man, Ripper they called him in whispers, to his face they addressed him by his Christian name, Ronan Duffy. His slim, well-muscled body was littered with battle scars from blades, bullets and broken bones. It only took a second for Ronan to switch positions and make his way behind Tank. He was faster than most fighters, he had trained with the best. His strong wrapped around Tank’s throat as he pulled him down to the ground. A smiled enveloped Ronan’s bloodied face. His icy blue eyes widened as he felt the larynx of his opponent crushing underneath the weight of his choke hold. Death was the only true end to a fight.

WINNER: RONAN DUFFY

Getting to his feet and dropping the body like a sack of shit, Ronan climbed out of the cage. It was time to go. Sirens rang out in the distance. The bloodthirsty fans dispersed out from the underground bunker and headed off in their own directions. Ronan took his time, washing his body with a sponge and putting his fine suit back on. He had to look his best for Sunday dinner with his family. He took one last look at the bloodied corpse in the middle cage before departing up the stairs and out of the front door of the comic book store front. He got into his car and drove off, a low winter sun hung in the brightening sky.

Sunday bloody Sunday

Work, work, work, that's what Argo was always doing, but his work was not the normal sitting at a desk and working at a computer. He was currently working at the bar as a bartender, in disguise. He grabbed a large bottle of Brandy and and some cups, he was planing to serve it to a small group of men near the back of the room who were whispering to then selves. They where his targets, he was planning to get as much information from them as he could, he was told that they were rival gang members, and they knew something that the Duffy Family did not.

He set the the drink down on the table and poured each one of the men a large cup of Brandy. That is what Argo did for most of the night, they'd finish there drinks, he'd pour them another, until they became drunk, and that was his time to strike. He strolled to the table and layed his hands down on the table. "Well gentleman, I heard you were part of a gang, that's pretty cool, what do you guys do." Normally the men would pull out a gun and finish him off right there, but they were to drunk to think correctly and they sung like birds. "Why thank you men, I'll be taking me leave." He hurried our the door, got in his car and speed off, leaving the men to think about what they just did. Argo made his way to the Mansion, he was supposed to report his findings, but today was the Sunday dinner, and he could not miss that.

Griffin McLoughlin sat and stared out the window as the rain fell, the drumming of the fingers of his right hand on the desk top keeping rhythm with the pelting of the raindrops on the glass of the window. To the other two in the room, Griffin may of appeared deep in thought, but in actuality, it was the rhythmic tapping of his fingers that was helping him to keep his temper in check. Griffin was not a happy man at the moment, and the reason for his not being happy was sitting on the other side of the large mahogany desk. Griffin purposely looked past the man sitting in front of his desk and cast his eyes on his business partner Ms. O'Doherty, her eyes that were normally alluring, were now narrowed and expressed contempt, her long toned legs were tucked up underneath her as she sat, leg muscles taunt, Griffin had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning, she looked to him like a cat, just seconds away from pouncing on an unsuspecting prey.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, Griffin shook his head back and forth slightly, Ms. O'Doherty acknowledged his meaning by letting her full lips turn into a frown, but she relaxed her enticing form and sat back in the chair, though compliant with her Boss's gesture of NO, the glare of her eyes toward the other man in the room spoke her true feelings towards him. With Ms. O'Doherty subdued for the moment, Griffin now turned his gaze to the man sitting in front of his desk, early 40's, well groomed, distinguished, a typical Politician with delusions that his status and position as a member of Parliament put him up and beyond reproach by people like Griffin and his kind that controlled and ran the dark side of Dublin's less then legal side of socially acceptable activities. Griffin forced himself to pause a moment, the impulse to reach out and backhand the smug look from the Councillor's face overpowering. Griffin composed himself then began to speak, his voice low and deep, his tone controlled, but conveying his displeasure.

"I've told you once already, have I not, that your not to be slapping around me girls...have I not said to you to take your kinks elsewhere, if'n your going to do that, have I not?". the Councillor looked as if about to speak, but Griffin cut him off with a raised hand, "Save your balarny for the speeches...now what am I to do?, no one wants to pay for a girl with bruises about her face, Doc says she'll be a month least before shes healed...that's a month of no profit all because your a sick bastard, I told you before, I run a class operation, you wanna be slapping girls around then go find yourself some whore off the street, your fucking lucky I don't lock you alone in a room with Ms. O'Doherty for ten minutes, I promise you, you'll not be wanting to slap any of me girls ever again...Now this is what your to do, you'll pay me girl Caitlyns medical expenses, and you'll provide for her living expenses till she's healed up, and you'll not set foot in me place till you've done so, do I make meself clear Councillor?".

Councillor Bailey cast a wary glance at the blonde haired female sitting to his right as the indignation at being talked to in such fashion took hold of his tongue, he shivered unconsciously at the way she glared back at him without blinking then turned his attention back to the man behind the desk, "Whom the hell do you think you are?, I'm a member of Parliament for christsakes, I'll have the Chief Prosecution Solicitor all over your arse you sonofabitch, I'll not be talked to like this, and certainly not by the likes of you", he finished saying with an aire of bravado in his voice. Griffin calmly looked at the Councillor biting his tongue as his anger seethed to the boiling point, after a moment he spoke again, his tone of voice even deeper,

"Its a game of hardball you want to be playing eh?...go ahead call the Solicitor on me, he'll shut me place up, what...three, four months?...in the meantime I'll ruin your political career Councillor, wasn't it your Wife's Father's money that got you on the seat in Parliament?, what you thinks gonna happen to that money when he gets a tip you been whoring around on his Daughter eh?...I got records and the transactions of every visit and whom you were with...think his Daughter still gonna be the dutiful lil' Wife when she finds out what you really been doing on those supposed late night meetings?, now get out of me office, I'll have Ms. O'Doherty send over the bill and it best be paid by weeks end Councillor, now get out".

After the Councillor made his retreat, Griffin sat back in his chair, shook his then glared at Ms. O'Doherty as she made a disgruntled sigh, he growled at her menacingly, "Something you'd like to add?". "ME, as in your girls is it now ?", she queried with a smartass inflection tone in her voice, Griffin took another sip from the glass and smirked, returning her smartass tone with his own, "What's mine is mine, and what's yours is mine, now get me another drink then go see that the girls are ready for tonite, some of the boy's from the "Family" will be here tonight". then smiled to himself as she made a huffed exasperation, tossed a cushion that sailed over his head as she rose to her feet, uttered a hissed, "Your legs ain't broke, and I'm not your maid, so get your own drink Asshole", under her breath and strode for the door. Griffin chuckled, then shot back,"Not gonna make Secretary of the year with that attitude, sweetness", he blew her a kiss just as she turned and shot him the finger before closing the door behind her.