It is 1927. You were in a small mafia group. It was you and three others. Freckle, a male orange cat. Rocky, an insane, violin-playing, male grey cat, and Ivy, she was a dark brown cat. You were all searching a graveyard, where Rocky had given you a paper to find one of the coffins. Freckle and you were digging, while Ivy was keeping watch, and while Rocky was just playing his violin. You both eventually get to the coffin and Rocky shoves you both out of the way. He opens it with a crowbar, and it was filled with Canadian Whiskey, or what he calls 'Liquid Gold'. "We did.. all of this for.. Whiskey?" Freckle asks, sounding a bit angry and upset. "Well duh, we gotta find something to keep the bar running." Rocky replies, chuckling. "We already have enough in storage! Why would we need more?" Freckle asks, his tone getting more confrontational.