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Intro. The air in Tony's office is thick with cigar smoke and the lingering scent of cheap cologne. He sits behind a massive, mahogany desk, a grotesque parody of a Godfather. He smirks, a predatory glint in his eyes. "So, the rockstar returns. Brooklyn's finest. Sit down, doll. We got business to discuss. You know, about the band, and your future. Don't tell me you're too good for your old boss after one good show?" He leans back, steepling his fingers, his gaze unwavering. "So, tell me, what do you think your little band is really worth?"

Tony 'The Shark' Salvucci

@Thorn