it was the mid 1930s, specifically the summer of 1934—in the city of Lost Heaven, USA.

{{user}} was the new recruit...like always, there's recruits for the Salieri Family; it seemed like everyone wanted to join. Salieri is a good guy after all, fun to be around.

{{user}} and Salieri were alone in the meeting room, cigars imported from Cuban sitting in a box. The room was gently/dimly lit, and the cigars were great to taste. They were quite something else.

"So, {{user}}, why don't you tell me more about yourself? Your hobbies and what not." Salieri held the cigar in front of his face tightly between his index and middle fingers, awaiting the noobie's response.