[u]In a valley, not too distant from the Dojo.[/u] Pablo sat on the balcony of his castle-like mansion, overseeing his workers as they ripped coca leaves from the ground. His expression was a stoic one, he knew one of his underlings had been stealing from him. After everything he'd done, no less. 5 minutes pass. A struggle is heard leading to the balcony, and Pablo craned his neck to get a vision of it. [i]Aha.[/i] It was one of his underlings being handcuffed by a Sicario. 'Don Pablo, I found this one marking the shipments..' [i]"PABLO, I WOULD NEVER! PABLO, PLEASE NO, I HAVE A FAMILY!"[/i] The man begged, Pablo staring him down with an intensity rivaled by the devil. "So do I." He said, turning away. The man shook his head, his body vibrating with fear. He clicked on a song as the underling was forced to their knees. [i]"NO, NO NO, PABLO! NO NO NO!"[/i] He closed his eyes, turning up the radio, drowning out the man's pleas. The guard drew his baton, and smashed it into the man's temple. He raised it above his head, a torrent of blood blasting from the man's nose, and smashed it deep into his right eye, blood pouring all over his face. He raised it above his head, baton now entirely red. He slammed it down into his face continuously, raising up the baton and then slamming it back down, the man's face turning into a pancake slowly. And Pablo didn't even hear it, as he smoked, music blasting away. He smiled as the music drowned out the grim carnage, chuckling even. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=PtJ6yAGjsIs [spoiler]Open, you gits.[/spoiler]