Where do I begin...? I was born in Chicago in 1981. My childhood was typical. I went to school, played stick ball and marbles. In the afternoons my older bother Rudy and I would help my mom hang up our laundry. My dad worked at a warehouse all day. He didn't get home until me and brother were in bed, but he always peeked in to to say goodnight. My life really took an odd turn when I turned 12. A man named Martin Peskatori found me getting jumped in an alley when a game of marbles went bad. He helped me out, told me I had guts takin on four boys at once. He bought me a milk shake and offered me a job. He said he'd pay me fifty bucs for delivering envelopes. Fifty bucs at my age was a fortune, so I said sure. He had me running all over town. I was known as, Marty's boy. Sometimes I would deliver four or five letters in a single afternoon. As time went on my delivery load became larger. Soon I got so busy that I quit school and started working for Marty full time. I still woke up like I was going to school, that way mom and pop didn't freak out. After a while I started delivering packages along with the letters. One day I brought this box to a pawn shop owned by a guy named Freddie Nickels, he used to get the finest jewels in town. It wasn't the first time I brought something to Freddie, but 10 min after I left, the whole joint went up in flames. The next day I read in the paper there was a gas leak or something. I kept thinking how lucky I was. I told Martin and he just chuckled and shook his head. He said sometimes fellas just have to pay the piper. As I grew older my jobs became more important. At 18 I was driving Marty where ever he wanted. Other times I would drive his friends; Richie Pesto, Frankie Screwdriver, and Noodles the hammer. Noodles was the toughest guy I knew. He would takes guys down with one blow, hence the name; hammer. Then there was Frankie, that guy loved to steal. It was more than a task for him, it was like a religion, only instead of paying respects on Sunday, Frankie paid them every night. From highjacking trucks to busting bank vaults, the guy was a pro. And Pesto was Paulie's point man. He told screwdriver and hammer where to go, what to do and who to do it to. Together they were the slickest crew in Chicago. And I was the transporter. No matter how crazy things got, or how dangerous this line of worked seemed, it was all normal to me. In fact the way I see it, the pedestal don't any bigger than this! Marty always took care of me (paid me well). Mom and pop were too busy to ask questions, but Rudy new what I was doing. Soon He got a job as a manager at one of Marty's night clubs. Rudy loved it, he made alot of money keeping that joint steady. Marty loved Rudy said he was smart. Richie said we were the gutsiest bros in town. Marty said together we could have a big future with him. After that day Noodles gave us nick names. He called Rudy Ace Spades because he tripled profits at Marty's club, Luna Lounge. He called me Flush beacuse ever since I started working for Marty they've had nothign but good luck. Today Rudy owns Luna Lounge and two other clubs. I'm Peskatori's right hand man. Anyone who wants to see or speak with Marty goes through me first. I also see to it that the our clients are pulling their weight and paying on time. If they start slipping, then I tell Noodles to talk to em. All in all life is pretty sweet in the windy city. Ever since that day I started working for Peskatori I've been on top of the world!
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