Pollice Verso

Browntrout unsweetened the Sugar Bears by killing Agent Lonnie.

Day One. 10 p.m.

Another shit night in Shit City - er - Staten Island (it's what you were all thinking, let's admit it). We (Agent Zeb and Agent Coulion,) begin a stakeout like any other. Target One - We wait outside his house, staring at his red Shelby GT500 Mustang for a good hour before realizing that orange soda and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups will keep us going. We head one block west to the nearbyCVS drugstore. As we smoke some stress-relieving cancer sticks, things get interesting.

The oh-so-easily-recognizable mustang we had watched just minutes earlier had now turned into the CVS parking lot and proceeded to park in the same empty row that our black, tinted windowed vehicle occupied - enjoying a smoke through a cracked open window, completely oblivious to our presence.

It felt like hours watching our target sitting just feet away from us as we shook with adrenaline and ached to take action. But lo and behold he finally pulled away, and headed west down Arthur Kill Road. We flew around the next block to avoid suspicion before tailing him through yellow traffic lights and hard turns. Target One leads us on an 18 mile car chase lasting approximately 2 hours up, down, and around two major Staten Island highways. Target One caught on to us, quickly breaking on the shoulder to 'let us pass' only to catch up to us, giving us the grill down of a lifetime (hardly). He tried to give us the slip, taking a sneaky turn off an exit, but we're just too damn good for suchamateur moves. We continue southbound on 440 and watched our target race off the highway. We floor it to the next exit, pull into the service road gas station, reverse our vehicle against a fence in the guise of being 'just a parked car.' And we wait.

Mere seconds later the mustang soared past us, thinking he's in the clear. But, oh, how wrong he was. . .

Trailing a car or so behind to avoid his attention we twisted and turned around the back roads of the forgotten borough trying to keep up. After a sharp turn and three Sunday drivers slowing us down we began to lose hope, second guessing ourselves that the target high-tailed it down a side street and was making a clear get away. We took a sharp right turn but caught a glimpse of themustang through a row of trees heading in the opposite direction. Rather than pulling a 180 we continue full speed down a narrow road we assumed would lead us right behind our now escaping target. Tiresscreech as we come to what revealed itself to be the dead end of a community housing driveway, kick it in reverse backtracking down the driveway faster than we came in. Back on track a red light up ahead allows us to get right up his ass heading straight for the sameCVS . We anticipate his moves, cut across the familiar parking lot, cutting down the block before his and park our car just out of his line of sight as he pulls into his driveway.Zeb jumps from our car in an attempt to sneak up behind the target, but the King of Sting was no where near leaving his pretty little whip.Zeb returns to our car. It appears to be a stalemate until....an idea!
We pull up dead behind the mustang and stop, the front passengers staring directly into the red beauty. He thinks we're just fucking with him, but little does he know, Zeb is creeps out the back passenger door and takes cover behind a parked car directly across the street from the target. Our car speeds off, leaving Zeb to take out Target One on his own.

Parking around the block from the waiting game that is coming to a slow boil, a cigarette break is taken when it comes to our attention thatZeb had forgotten his cell in the back seat! Concerned and unaware of what's going down, we creep back around the block and park, send whistle signals and find out that we didn't miss any action. AgentCoulion watches from the back tinted windows through binoculars, sees the target emerge from his car thinking he was safe as Agent Zeb quickly dashes up behind him from across the street. Water streams over the mustang as the two circle and duck around it, each trying to take the other out.

Zeb: "I so got you."
Target One : "Yea you did."

***

The Burt Dows rose out of the deep water and murderered Agent Ohms

Agent Ohms was a slippery bastard, like an eel swimming in soybean oil. He lives on a filthy street, in a toxic neighborhood, and has surrounded himself with wicked, large-eyed women. But the Burt Dows - rugged men of the sea - cased him relentlessly. This morning -- the morning of September 11 -- we waited until the hour before dawn, then arrayed ourselves in a familiar pattern on Ohms's block, a pattern taken right from the playbook of the great Joe Gibbs: Agent Rodney Danger sat in a car listening to "weather on the ones," covered in coffee stains; Felix trying desperately to untangle his ipod headphones, and a third, myself, Agent Hoagie, quietly vomiting up an Egg McMuffin across the street. A dark figure emerged from Ohm's lovenest at 06:25am crossed the street. I wiped my mouth on my chamois sleeve and realized that it was him, though somehow healthier looking than his photo. I kept walking, suddenly re-nauseated, and signaled to Felix: "Splash the shitbird". Ohms sat on a nearby stoop, perhaps shaken by my wretched appearance. As Felix nailed him with a wet rope from his PowerSoak XXT, Ohms at first objected. I ain't me, he said. Felix hit him again, and it was over. Ohms is toast.

***

Blackout City trapped and skinned Agent Fox

The Mayors have dispatched a dirty District Attorney, Fox, from our fair city! We consulted the Building and Code Department to learn that one specific Sty Town building had elevators not up to code. Trusting our staff like we do, we rode them for two hours to see if in fact they are safe for our citzens. While doing such, lo and behold, our dirty DA crept up the stairs from a floor below to return to her lair and continue to press fradulent charges on our brothers in arms.

She emerged from the stairwell gun first, tipping us off. We lit her up! The dirty Fox is no more.

Another official elected by the ex-mayors! Chalk it!!!

***

The Burt Dows exterminated BrooklynBee

The Burt Dows have scored another kill. Almost exactly Seven years to the minute after the first plane hit the towers, we waxed BrooklynBee.

Still drunk on the death of Ohms, just over two hours later, Agents Hoagie and Rodney Danger of the Burt Dows doused BrooklynBee in a torrential crossfire. In Bee's defense, he was too hungover to see beyond his hands, and had walked onto the street unarmed, with what I hope was shaving cream smeared across his chin eye boogers crusted around his eyelids. He took the fire like a man, despite all the Hennessey he'd consumed the night before. Godspeed, Bee. Here's to swimmin with bowlegged women.

[and BrooklynBee's version of the same event]

My update: Third night (first day, Sunday was a no kill day) out on my assignment my mark has nothing to show! She is like a ninja bear hibernating. And know this, as I sit (after my nightly hunt of MY "ghost I never go out" mark) I am the super defend me ninja counter-assassin lookin' for ninjas coming to get me. I am the bad-ass double barrel wet wearing 'n waiting assassin, sitting on my stoop, guns of super water wetness waiting so to please my need to WET!.

Pass this message along to my current assassin! AND PLEASE BLOG POST TO EMBARRASS "You are a sissy ass" I just ashed in my own beer for strength and I am still drinking it! What does that tell you? That tells you I have no care about blasting your sissy face wet!" And if you're NOT up for the task you must be a loud ass samurai with no sword! All talk! That is code word for sissy! You are NOT a ninja!

Beyond that...Supreme Commander, respectively, you need to assign a new assassin if samurai sissy cannot do the job, they TOO will get wet! I implore you this time around to assign a TEAM! I assure you they will all get wet! I am a street ghost! And I roll double fisted with double blasted wet gunz! Think NAZ "Hip Hop Is Dead" You dead! Listen....WORD!

Respectively…Supreme Commander and company and ALL organizers…MAD ninja respect for you all!

Brooklyn(assassin)Bee

PS…I roll like a water slide with pistolas on both sides! FAK THAT ya heard!

---

My assassin got hit this morning and a team came and HIT ME! FUCK! One was a buddy of yours, I forget his name. You should post these two emails! apparently it is me who is the weak ass ninja. SHIT SHIT SHIT! I was all hungover from stoop drinking! And what makes it worse, unarmed! I'll send you the details later! I'm fucking out! FAK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

***

Vacquero killed the Precipitator : Storytime

precipitator a long name, but a swift death soon i will hunt m --vaquero

I took a walk around the Precipitator's neighborhood, selecting a convenient observation post with a view of his front door. Fortune smiled; before long I saw his attractive lady friend coming up the block. She was on her cell, and clearly casing the area. She looked in my direction, but didn't seem too bothered by my presence. She walked up her stoop, checking both sides for any hidden assailant. You won't find me there, lovely. And then she went inside, with one last look around.
I couldn't be sure if she had seen me, so it was time to change location. I stepped out of my post and began walking. Suddenly my target rounds the corner, talking on his cell phone and looking spooked. I stroll along the other side of the street, empty-handed, invisible. He steps inside his gate. I duck behind a van, pull a balloon, and close the distance as he climbs his steps. "Thatcher!" I shout. He wheels around and goes for his gun, but the balloon is already in the air. It bursts on his doormat, splattering him only inches away from the safety of home.

The love of a good woman may keep you warm at night, but it won't save you from me.

El Matador smoked Killer Greene Team

Upon receiving "the package" from the Shadow Government, it was pleasing to see that this mision would have not one, but three victims, the members of team Killer Greene. A reconnaissance mission was embarked upon inmediatamente to identify the targets' homes and their places of work. The locations were all canvassed, photographed and committed to memoria. Every corner, alley, vagrant, and crack-whore was identified and inventoried, making the likelihood of an unforeseen escape unlikely.

The workplace of Mr. Greene, el capitan of Killer Greene was infiltrated on Tuesday night, but he was nowhere to be seen. Apparently some erroneous intelligence had been obtained. The night was not a complete failure however as Mr. Greene "moonlights" as a panini purveyor of Plutonian proportions. The spicey tuna with oven roasted tomates was delish!

Wednesday night saw an incursion into Killer Greene's hipster downtown Brooklyn barrio. After a lengthy stakeout and no sign of the marks, hope was nearly lost. However, there would be no going quietly into the good night. Like a Horseman of the Apocalypse, Mr. Greene's associate Mr. Pink strode into the crosshairs of El Matador's sidearm. The weapon's stream of muerte aquatica was not sufficient to relieve Mr. Pink of his mortal coil and he hastily retreated on his steed, fortuitously dodging volley after volley of water-grenades. The night's excitement would peak there, but the thrill of the hunt had sparked and insatiable bloodlust that demanded it be seen to fruition.

This morning, a second incursion was made into Brooklyn. A covert unit was stationed just outside the target's home with inteligencia buena indicating that Mr. Greene would be leaving at an appointed time. Lo, the time was nigh. An obviously on-edge Mr. Greene exited his home, eyes darting to and fro, searching for the most minimal sign of danger, water balloon and gun in hand. Ignorance being bliss, he was blind to the imminence of his demise and had sealed the fate of team Killer Greene. As Mr. Greene made his way up his block, agent El Matador swept upon him like the Angel of Death. Mr. Greene attempted an escape, but it was all for naught. He tossed a well-aimed balloon, but El Matador would not be denied and the projectile was avoided with Baryshnikovian elegance. A righteous saturation unlike any witnessed heretofore was unleashed upon the victim. Time of death: 11:15am.

The humiliation of defeat still entrenched in his visage, Mr. Green had little recourse but to hand over his ID. "I didn't want to stop playing yet." Sorry hijo, death is no game. A quick dap and man-hug later, it was off to search for the next mark. Ole!

Yours in acrimony ... El Matador

***

Iceman melted all over Agent Elrian's face

Murder Death Kill.

Elrian is dead. Killcode: VKcoJ7fkEL7SyNMIT

Much like my johnson, this hunt was long and hard.
DAY 1 began in the shadows of astoria in front of an unmarked warehouse. Quickly realizing the location was not residential, the target was contacted and his proper address was distilled. The residence was heavily fortified with no roof access.

DAY 2 An aerial assault was attempted but thwarted. The next day the building was infiltrated and entry into residence was attempted. Mark was overheard whispering to roommate to get the door as assassins were after him. Thwarted again.

DAY 3 Mark was contacted by unnafiliated mercenary to arrange a lunch meeting. Did not take the bait.

DAY 4 Stakeout of work location. Mark was very sneaky and did not take the most logical path to work. Was determined that this was going to take time. Binoculars were purchased and the stakeout of single-exit office building began in earnest. 3 false alarms, two blunts, 1 rail, and a chicken biscuit sandwich later the mark was spotted exiting the building. Tracked around the block and as soon as feet hit unsafe pavement an aerial assault was launched and target was eliminated.

Have tasted blood. Thirst is unquenchable.

***

Globix Jumps into the killin lead with #3 - Gold E Locks of WHOA-men

Shadow Government: I wish I could clone myself, give that clone a water gun and try to hunt and kill it; because that is the only way I'm going to get a real challenge in this game!

FlipDog here again to report the timely demise of one Gold E Lox of team The WHOA-Men. I would like to say it was interesting, frustrating, sexy, or any number of adjectives but in fact it was quick and dull. The only thing that will keep me going is the fact that her teammate is now all alone and living in fear of the wetting moment....Don't worry "Bad Mamma Jamma" your time will come soon!

As for Gold E Lox, I was already in her neighborhood....after checking with her doorman that she was indeed not home yet, I walked a few stoops down the block and sat and waited. About 5 min later she comes walking down the street oblivious to my presence, I wait untill she is directly in front of me and shot her ass! She of course did not have her ID card, but promised to give it to me when she got it.

FlipDog

The Globix Corporation

Le Phenix has finally risen from the ashes and scalded Agent 008

supreme-

i have soaked my first victim and the taste of victory is SWEET! Agent 008 went down tonight at 8:31.

since it was rush hour, i followed a group of people from the train and slid into the building behind another resident. i snuck into the building on one other occasion so i already had my perfect hiding place. i listened for any movement below, but no one was home at his place...perfect, just as i had hoped--all i had to do was wait. unfortunately, when i heard a key in the lock to his apartment i got trigger happy and fired a small, but powerful stream of water at my victim. to my dismay it was not agent 008 but his wife! i hightailed it up the stairs and into a recessed doorway, but his wife pursued and interrogated me. i asked outright if she was going to call him--figuring that my cover had been blown to smithereens. rather than giving up, i made as if to leave and went to the other stairwell at the far end of the hallway. luckily for me agent 008 stepped out of the elevator with his mamma while i continued to lurk. i pretended to be going down the stairs, grabbed my weapon, turned and fired--a clean shot right to the middle of the chest. i crowed with glee and agent 008 cried to his mamma!

next assignment please

le phenix