You’re walking the dim, moonlit streets of New York. The year is 1935 and you’re a goon for the Mariotti Family, a small mob family with not much of a reputation. As you’re walking, the damp, night air hits your face and before long it starts raining. You take a left into an alleyway, hoping to get some shelter from the elements. When you entered the alley, you felt a chill, as if your body was sensing danger. And it did just that. Suddenly you feel cold metal to the back of your neck. A gun.