Mon, 30 January 2012
You strain to hear the noise coming over the countertop. Had Joe Dibella's mob goons struck again? You can hear the struggle out in the hallway. Was that poor adam, the peg-leg janitor, being ruthlessly beaten and left for dead? The muffled shouting and beating noises subside, and you ready yourself for the coming gunfight. Jon, nestled behind his chemistry apparatus, lay huddled in fear. You, Lance Kilcoyne, private investigator, are the only thing between the mob and the maltese.. something...