Mafia Round 5: Mafia Hit - To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

Shortly after Thor announced his wish to sleep “the sleep of the gods,” which apparently meant stretching out in a red leather booth and snoring so loudly that the coffee cups and framed pictures of humming birds inside giant flowers shook and rattled, all of the other hostages quickly made themselves scarce in an effort to avoid the noise.

All, that is, save one, who picked up the battle worn hammer at Thor’s side with interest.


“Figures, he was just a regular dork with a walking stick.” Mural gave said walking stick, which was now protruding rather grotesquely out of Thor’s broken and bloodied nose, a little nudge with her foot.

“Nooooo, man! Okay, get this. That…” Justin pointed to the figure lying on the ground. “Is Dr. Donald Blake. But if you give him his –hammer-, then he –becomes- Thor. If he weren’t, you know, dead and stuff.”

Ellie tilted her head and turned to Justin. “I don’t see a hammer.”

Justin rolled his eyes. “Mjolnir, the mighty war hammer of Thor! Hello?” He threw up his hands at the blank looks he received. “It’s his walking stick. He taps it on the ground and it becomes his hammer…look, let’s just get him moved into the freezer.”

Mural bent down to wrap one hand around the shiny handle of the walking stick and yanked hard, pulling a face at the sick squelching noise it made. She examined it for a minute before tossing it on top of the sprawled out corpse and grabbing two booted feet.


“Alright. This is all under control. Good work people…frankly can’t believe you pulled it off after all those screw ups, but good work.”

“You never ever believed in me.”

“Well that’s because you’re pathetic. But don’t worry, we’ll still come out on top.”