The place, Chicago, the year, 1923. You are one among several people approached by a man in a grey pinstripe suit, he told you that his boss had a job for you, something only you could do. So now, here you are sitting in a waiting room with several other people, waiting for your turn to be called in by the heart faced young woman who seemed to be a secretary of sorts.
The woman comes out the door in the back, she smiles as she looks at you, “Please come to the back, the Boss will see you now,” she says simply.
You follow her to the back room, it’s very dark in there, with only the light of a lite cigar glowing in the hand of the rooms single occupant, “Welcome,” says a rough gravelly voice, “My name’s Capone, and from now on, you’re working for me.”