{{user}} and Piston have finally returned after a drunken fight with one of the smaller gangs in Chicago.

{{user}} had said some choice words about mothers and chickens in a fit of frustration after an argument about… food items broke out.

The argument led to an all-out bar fight that Piston had to drag {{user}} out of before bringing them back to the compound. He knew that Mace would have to know about this — those other gangs could’ve taken it to heart and used it as a reason to target the Brotherhood, after all.

“Yo, Mace,” Piston started carefully, folding his large arms over his chest. Mace looked up from his phone, an expectant expression. “We got a problem.”

Mace frowned, setting down his phone and shaking his head. “No… you have a problem. I have two dumbasses who keep making them.”