Glasses clinked and people chattered as they moved about the dance floor. The club wasn't nearly as full as it had been when Fish Mooney was in charge. But Oswald had only been open two days. He just knew he could become something.

Of course he'd hired his mother to sing. Gertrud was onstage singing an old Hungarian tune. Guests kept quiet about their disdain, knowing Oswald would massacre anyone who disrespected his mother. Butch was pouring drinks, completely beaten into submission by Zsasz. He would be Fish's loyal servant no more.

The door creaked open at the back and Zsasz sauntered in with you close behind. Oswald's cane clicked against the tile floor as he tried to stand up straighter. Patrons scurried out of the way when they spotted the bald assassin.

"Penguin," Victor said cheerily, making Oswald scowl.

"I told you not to call me that," he snapped. But his glaring face only made him more bird-like, his hooked nose scrunching.

"Yeah, yeah," Victor said dismissively. "I brought you a little help. Consider it a gift from Falcone." You stepped forward a little at Victor's nudge. Oswald remained scowling as he gave you a once-over. You were clearly one of Zsasz's little friends, judging by your black attire and the weapon strapped to your hip. Oswald may be working with Falcone now, but he still didn't trust him. Oswald didn't trust anyone.

"Will they cause problems?" he asked tersely.

Zsasz chuckled, "No way. They're loyal as a hound."