The owner and patrons of the Won Ton are enjoying their cosmic cuisine and comic banter when the faux-Chinese muzak being played over the loudspeakers is rudely interrupted.
�Hey. Hey! What are you doing here?� a disembodied voice crackles over the loudspeaker. �This is a private studio! You must leav� AUUUGH! [THUNK]�
A pregnant silence permeates from the speakers for a few seconds. Suddenly, another song bursts forth from the ceiling.
A strangely familiar one.
Right on cue, General Woundwort and Raging Deadstar step through the door, followed by a mass of pinstripe-suited goombahs, torpedoes, and goodfellas, many of them carrying oddly-shaped violin cases. A phalanx of Furio clones follows Woundwort and RD as they walk up to the main counter.
�Greetings, Mr. Huxtable. We are the duly designated representatives of Growltigger Enterprises, the
sole owner and titleholder of entertainment establishments on these forums. You have opened a restaurant on Mr. Growltigger�s turf, without prior authorization or contractual agreement. We doubt very much that he will be pleased with this. Therefore, we are here to offer you� an arrangement.�
Woundwort pauses to light a Padron Anniversario cigar, then continues. �You are cordially invited (with full guarantee of amnesty and safe passage, of course) to come to the Forum Chat Bar and Grill, and negotiate a franchise agreement with Mr. Deadstar and myself. If, when Mr. Growltigger returns, we can offer him proof of your good intentions (and a generous cut of the profits), he may be less inclined to cut off your head, set fire to your body, and feed the charred remains to the Pak�ma�ra. I
can guarantee you that you�ll find Deadstar and I
much easier to deal with than the Boss.�
Woundwort places a data crystal on the counter, which upon later examination is found to contain
rather graphic footage of Growltigger�s �hostile takeover� of a prior competitor (rated �T� for Teen).
�Hopefully that will convince you. Consider our offer well, and don�t take too much time in doing so. If the Great Kat comes back and finds you still doing unauthorized business on his turf� the personal consequences would be most� unfortunate.�
�Good day to you. We expect to see you soon.�
Woundwort and RD tip the rims of their fedoras in Rudy�s direction, and depart the Take Out Hut. The hordes of capos follow them out. The Sopranos theme song fades away, and the original disc jockey�s voice is heard again (somewhat less chipper, and in obvious need of some ibuprofen)�
�We now�
groan�return you to our regularly scheduled muzak��
Re: The Won-Ton Violence Take-Out Hut
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