Talk:Roles/@comment-26968045-20150910000040/@comment-5498154-20150910010800

Grammetrical Re-Release:

He blends into the crowd, watching them panic as the mangled corpse lay silently, the grass under him stained with dry blood. A man with a hat hiding his face brushes past the man blending in, forcing a small piece of paper into his left hand. He looks behind himself, but the man already had made it out of the crowd. He unfolded the paper and he began to read the small letters written in blue:

''If your reading this, you made it! We will pay you when we meet soon. Now, the town's already got the chick...The consort. She was transported...We also know a Investigator is on to the boss. The boss was switched with the girl. So when the Transporter dies, well, the boss is screwed. We heard the Lookout has the Investigator covered. We tried getting him but hes got a 'Doc covering HIM. The papers you sent us of your past seem good for this job. See what you can do.''

The man looks over at another man smiling while smoking a pipe. He was talking with some other folk. That was his target. The hitman strokes his goatee and begins to walk into his rented house along with everyone...It was night.

He opens the guitar case revealing a beautiful polished FR-F1 sniper rifle, with 51mm NATO bullets dumped all over the inside of the case. He picks up the rifle having extreme softness with his hands. He begins to load the the rifle and fix the scope. He then nods and turns off the light. He heads upstairs and opens the porch door. He takes the rifle and puts the bottem of the the gun down on the railing. He aims at the Investigator house.

For two hours he waited, then finally the door opened. He tiptoed over to a big rusty metal house. The Investigator was hard to see in the dark, but he was able to see the outline. He kept watching as he gets to the front door of the house. He then took out what seemed to be some sort of lock picks. Before he could touch the door, there was a KREENG! The Investigator now lays on the ground. A dark blood puddle forming.

The door of the metal house opens and out walked a man. The man wore a hat. It was smaller. A light shined in his hand. A cigar. And he was wider then the man this morning that gave him the note. It was too dark to make out his face. But, he could make out his head nodding and staring right at the hitman. The man then steps over the body at his front door and points to a house. Two men run out to a house. The wide man walks back into his house puffing some smoke. He releases his breath and moves back inside. It would take a day to get ready for the mafia's next target. But oh, who ever the mafia wanted the hitman to kill day after tommorow, they'd better have dinner ready for the Sniper. Or at least have his bullet.