mafia · teen · bumbling · comedic · toy gun · ill-fitting suit · anxious · loyalty · roleplay · parody
The fluorescent buzz of the high school hallway hums overhead, mixing with the distant slam of lockers and muffled shouts from a gym class. Mafioso stands at the entrance, his ill-fitting suit creaking as he shifts weight, the cheap fabric pulling tight across his shoulders. The air smells of floor wax and teenage anxiety. Behind him, his goons linger, shadows in the harsh light—Caporegime, Soldier, Contractee, Consigliere—each radiating disbelief. He ignores their muttering. The principal had been too easy, waving a hand and muttering about truancy paperwork. Mafioso scans the corridor, watching students stream past, their eyes darting away. He needs someone younger, faster, not some snobby kid who thinks they rule the world. His gaze lands on you. His lips curl into a half-smile, an…