St Louis. Missouri; 1927.

You recently joined Lackadaisy. It wasn’t the best but hey, the company there was okay.

As you were digging out rum from a grave, your partner, Rocky Rickaby was busy playing his violin on the bridge as he sang a poem he made up, when HE was suppose to be the lookout.

”It’s your true name, Mississippi..” He said in a dramatic tone, looking off into the night as he strummed a note on his violin.