It was early morning, about an hour before sunrise, at Pierman's Wharf. A large cargo ship was docked and several workmen were unloading crates under the supervision of a tall man dressed all in black. He watched them with a hint of a smile. The crates were all unlabeled, but he knew what was in them. PACO jeans.
PACO jeans had been outlawed in the New United States several years ago, when it was discovered that they contained Mercuminum, a synthetic element with a few dangerous side effects. When people wore the jeans, the Mercuminum would seep into their skin, and they would either go insane, or, in rare cases, develop amazing superpowers. All those afflicted with such effects were immediately disposed of, and all N.U.S. manufacturing plants and retailers shut down, never to open again. However, in New Japan, PACO Jeans' popularity was skyrocketing, and smuggling large quantities in was a popular and profitable task for many able criminals.
Like the man in black. Mario Futurino. He was the head of the most powerful crime family in the N.U.S., and in control of the Jeans smuggling business. In recent weeks, more and more of these operations had been busted by local law enforcement, so Mario had begun coming along to make sure eveything went smoothly. He was confident he could deal with any problems that came up.
Or could he? He suddenly saw a man approaching from the street. He knew he recognized the man from somewhere. Somewhere from his past, a long time ago. But who is he? An old enemy, the head of another family, perhaps? No, that's not it. If only I could just remember his name.
It all began to come back to him. When he was a young man, barely 22, he had just begun to do work for the Family. His father was the head at that time, and his most trusted associate was none other than haxx0r gunman. haxx0r gunman had done countless jobs for the Futurinos, and never failed one. He was paid well and was close friends with Mario's father. Or at least he was, up until the night of the big sting.
It had been an operation not unlike the one Mario was currently undertaking. An illegal shipment of "No Fat Chicks" T-shirts was arriving at Pierman's Wharf in the middle of the night, and it was their job to transport it. haxx0r gunman was supposed to meet Mario's father there at 3:00. He was there alright, with swarms of federal agents.
They arrested Mario's father and all the men he had with him in the biggest crime bust in the nation's history. Since then, the Futurino's had sworn to eliminate haxx0r gunman if they ever ran across him again. Up until now, no one had.
Mario drew his gun from his shoulder holster and was about to put a bullet into haxx0r gunman's skull, when his gun and the hand holding it were destroyed by a fierce 2x haxx0r bolt.
He screamed in pain, and as his workers turned to see the source of the noise, they were fried by a series of 2x haxx0r bolts, each more storical than the last. haxx0r gunman turned his attention back to Mario, who stared at him with hatred in his eyes.
"What now, haxx0r gunman? Are you gonna send me off to prison, like pop? Or will you just kill me right here?"
"No, Futurino, for you there is a fate much worse than death."
"And what's that?" he asked, trembling with fear. A fatal 2x haxx0r bolt right through his chest answered his question, and he fell to the wooden boards of the dock, dead.
"Game Over, Mario." hax0r gunman shook his head as he aimed his 2x haxx0r gun at the smokestack on top of the cargo ship. A single shot caused the entire vessel to explode in flaming glory. Satisfied that his work was complete, haxx0r gunman left the scene.