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Fuck, fuck fuck fuck FUCK!
He’s really done it now, hasn’t he? Of all times for him to screw up, why did it have to be NOW?! He’s going to get demoted! How could he, the great Trevor Garretson, possibly be demoted from vice president of the-
Wait, no, slow down. He stopped himself as he arrived in the Maribel Hotel, so as to not cause a scene with the patrons. As he entered the elevator to the managerial office, he rethought the events over in his head. It’s going to be fine, he’s not going to be demoted, he’s too useful for that. Besides, he has a perfect alibi, he can just say that random guy screwed something up, it’s all going to be okay. He bullshitted his way into becoming second in command to Asa Sweet, he can bullshit his way out of this…
Right?
As the elevator arrived at the top, and Trevor stepped out, a sense of dread loomed over him. Of course, he’s too useful for being murdered, but the fear of ending up at the bottom of the Mississippi or dead in a ditch, always remained. It was stupid anyways, how could he possibly-
“Mr. Garretson-”
“FUCK,” Trevor screamed at the top of his lungs, as that damned whore Alissa Cartweil just popped out of nowhere. “What the fuck do you want?!”
Alissa sat, silently and patiently, before responding, in a quiet and reserved tone, “Mr. Garretson, Mr. Sweet said to-”
“I know,” Trevor replied, not letting her finish her sentence, “meet with him. And I was going to, before you showed up and scared the shit out of me!” He lifted a finger up, aggressively.
“I apologize, sir, but-”
“Next time don’t be such a bitch,” Trevor blurted, more than anything just pissed. Alissa went on her way, before Trevor called out to her, “and maybe next time wear a shorter skirt, I can’t even see your knees.” Alissa looked back and, reserved, smiled, before continuing on her merry way.
And with that out of the way, Trevor opened the door, ready to see Asa sitting at his desk. His mind was ready with the same plan, blame that guy, whoever the fuck he was, and we’ll all be fine-
Asa Sweet was not in the office when he entered.
“That’s strange,” he thought. He’s usually in his office all night except for the times he’s at the Marigold Room or speaking with the higher ups, and he was sure as hell not in the Marigold Room tonight. For a minute, Trevor waited, perhaps expecting him to show up with a whisky or even wine to share, that’d be nice at this time.
Then a minute turned into 2 minutes, then 4, then 8, then 12, then 24, then 48. And by the time Trevor was raiding his superior’s candy Drawer and pouring himself his fifth Whisky of the night, it had been 2 hours without Asa Sweet...
Fuck it, he was gonna enjoy himself tonight. Everything else was screwed up, especially since he had to kill that damn journalist in public and cause a complete scandal, but that wasn’t going to stop him from getting shitfaced drunk and emptying that damned candy drawer. Hell, he might even sit in Asa’s chair. It’s comfy, warm, and it could lean back, that’s 10 points ahead of his own chair. How the hell did Asa get through most nights without falling asleep? He was already… Dozing… Off…
…
“Mr. Garretson-”
“OH FUCK, ASA I’M SORRY I-” Trevor launched himself awake, ready for Asa to shoot him or worse, fire him and ruin his reputation-
“…”
Trevor sat back down, calmly, and simply said, in slurred, hungover speech, “oh, it’s just you, Alissa.”
“Mr. Garretson,” Alissa replied, as calm and reserved as always, “I was just coming to inform you about Mr. Sweet-”
“Yeah, I know,” Trevor replied, cutting Alissa off, slurring most of his words in his hungover, exhausted mindset. “Look, he didn’t show up, I took the liberty of enjoying myself. Don’t worry your pretty head over this shit.” Trevor got back up, corrected his tie, and looked out to the beautiful St. Louis Sunrise-
Wait, sunrise?
“What fucking time is it,” Trevor became instantly confused, it’s still night, it’s not like-
“It’s around 7:01, Mr. Garretson,” Alissa replied, for once not being cut off…
Mostly because Trevor was sitting in his hungover state, comprehending the simple 5 word sentence given to him…
“...Oh,” Trevor finally replied, slightly annoyed that he somehow slept the whole night away. With barely any mental strength left, he walked over, and poured himself another Whisky (probably his 7th one at that point, he lost count).
“Mr. Garretson,” Alissa spoke, calmly, “I don’t think you should-”
“Hey, look, I’m gonna be fine drinking this Liquid Gold,” Trevor replied again, as the glass became filled to the brim in the amber liquid. “Anyways, what were you gonna tell me about Asa?”
“Mr. Sweet…” Alissa’s polite smile faded, as her face became serious but calm, a slight bit of tension filling her shoulders. “Mr. Sweet has been found dead in the Mississippi River.”
“Oh, Okay,” Trevor replied, hungover, tired, and barely in the right mindset. He was going to enjoy the nice Gold drink, and if Asa was going to have a word with him over it, he was going to have to stop being dead and-
Trevor spat out his drink, as the realization struck him.
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN ASA SWEET’S FUCKING DEAD?!”
…
Asa Sweet was dead. Asa Sweet was actually fucking dead. Trevor read the stupid Truss again and again, trying to see any error, only to find an errorless detail of death. Asa Sweet was dead…
So what now?
Obviously, the Higher ups would have to meet, he was sure they were going to. The question is, simply, who the hell was going to replace the late and great Asa Sweet-
It was himself. It was obviously himself. Absolutely no one else was qualified for it.
Of course, there were obviously going to be challengers: Keicho Nijimura, the leader of the Nijmura Clan, Sebastian Laurent, leader of the Maitre Carrefour Cult, And whoever the hell is the leader of the Alterus remnants this week. But all of them suck compared to him. It’s not like they’re all significantly hotter, more skilled, older, smarter… Oh god, he’s gonna have to bullshit this again, isn’t he?
…
“And cast your votes now,” Tony Bobony’s voice boomed through the small room, alerting all representatives of the various factions to begin the election for a new leader…
And obviously Trevor was fucked.
There was no way he was going to win this, at all. The only way he could possibly win was if somehow all the ballots went directly to him, but there’s no way that could happen. He is completely and absolutely…
Wait.
Trevor stopped for a minute, as Tony Bobony walked towards a complaining Alterus member, armed with a gun. He’s definitely going to die, but who the hell cares about him anyways-
Wait, the ballot boxes are left completely unoccupied. He could actually just-
No, it’s a stupid idea, why the hell would he…
Trevor stopped, and actually thought about it. It’s not like him cheating the election was going to get him killed, right?
“Fuck it,” he thought. Walking up to the boxes, he began pouring out all of the ballots into his own, ignoring the gunfire that nearly killed Tony and killed that nameless Alterus bastard. He put it back in it’s proper position, and left with no trace of his-
“Mr. Garretson-”
“JESUS!” Trevor jumped. It was just Alissa again.
“Your whisky, sir-,” Alissa tried to speak, before being interrupted by Trevor’s swinging hand taking the whole bottle into his arm.
“Thanks, now fuck off please,” Trevor replied, as he began downing the whole bottle, in a desperate attempt to keep attention off him. As he got back, Tony concluded the session.
“And the votes for Marigold leadership go to…”
Tony looked puzzled as he counted the results, before shrugging, and announcing the winner.
“...Trevor Garretson.”
The room was stunned in silent confusion…
“LET’S FUCKING GO!!!” Trevor jumped into the center of the room, kissing Tony right on the mouth, before guzzling down the whole Whisky bottle, his cheers of celebration gurgled by the Liquid gold pouring into his mouth.
The rest of the room looked at this complete and utter asshole, and lost all hope in the future of the Marigolds: They were now stuck with Trevor Fucking Garretson.
…
Trevor Garretson
That simple tag sitting where Asa’s name once sat filled him with euphoria the likes of which the world had never seen. No longer is he number 2 to Asa Sweet in Hotel Management or Crime Boss Duties. Now, he’s king of St. Louis, Ceaser of the Mississippi, the one and only Trevor Garretson, leader of the Marigolds…
Well, now what?
He got everything he wanted, a new nametag, a fancy position, a nice paycheck, a personal secretary (the same one he always had), a candy jar of his own, a Whisky of his own, everything…
So, now what does he do?
…
Well, what did Asa fail at?
Trevor looked into the drawers, finding the file of various incidents in the Marigold gang. He tore through it, looking at plans the day that Asa died, wondering what could have failed, what could he possibly take credit for-
A simple name caught his eye for a second. He stopped to look at it for a second, and oddly ominous name: Watered Daisies.
“Nah, it’s probably nothing,” Trevor thought, as he put the file away-
Wait, it was listed as a failure.
He opened the file immediately, and found something surprising (well, debatably surprising). 2 members of a rival Speakeasy, Ivy Pepper and Calvin Mcmurray, are thrown into the Mississippi to drown, only to come right back up alive and well. It's strange that it failed…
But it can’t fail twice!
He got it! He can improve where Asa failed! Ivy and Calvin can’t escape the eyes of the Great and powerful Trevor Garreston-
“Mr. Garreston-”
Trevor was ripped out of his daydream by Alissa… Dammit!
“Shut up Alissa, I’m in the middle of something,” Trevor replied…
Wait, actually.
“Alissa, do you know who was involved in this file,” Trevor asked as he handed Alissa Watered Daisies’ file.
Alissa looked at it and replied, in a friendly, calm voice: “I can check real quick-”
“Perfect,” Trevor replied excitedly, “Call him up, and tell him that it’s time to get that concrete-a pouring and the ropes-a tying, because it’s time for Ivy and Calvin to Drown in the Mississippi!”
…
“He refused, sir,” Alissa stated, as calmly and matter of factly as possible. Trevor sat in his chair, looking dejected, as he looked at the file.
“... Did he at least tell you his name,” Trevor asked, rolling in his depression.
“No, Mr. Garreston, he did not.”
“...Fuck…”
Trevor took another sip of his Whisky, and ate another piece of his candy, both unable to possibly heal the disappointment in him after his plan's rejection-
*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*
Alissa got up, and replied, calmly, “Mr. Garreston is unavailable at this-”
“Let him in,” Trevor talked over Alissa, too depressed to even say anything. The door opened to reveal 2 Marigold agents (he didn’t know their names), and some random gagged college student-
“Wait, what the fuck,” Trevor got up, and looked at the strange girl, seemingly putting on a brave face at him.
“Mr. Garreston,” one of the agents responded, “This is Helen, a friend of Ivy Pepper who snuck into-”
“Yadda Yadda Yadda,” Trevor replied, apathetic, “I don’t care about some random college-”
Trevor stopped himself, and replied, “Wait, I’m sorry, what’d you say?”
“Um,” the agent took his time, wondering how the hell this incompetent egomaniac managed to become his boss. “This is Helen, a friend of Ivy Pepper who-”
“HOLY SHIT, FOR REAL,” Trevor asked, excitedly, before ungagging her.
“... Yes,” Helen replied, sheepishly, before a look of shock streaked across her face.
The agent composed himself, and continued: “We found her attempting to sneak into the-”
Trevor jumped up, excited, “LET’S FUCKING GO!!!!” He grabbed his whisky, and started pouring down his mouth, too excited to even drink it.
Everyone else looked at him with one simple thought: How the hell is this guy the leader of the Marigolds?
After the bottle was emptied, Trevor dropped the bottle, surprisingly not shattering it, and gave one order: “Boys, prepare the concrete boots!”
Helen looked up, her eyes widening in shock: “Wha- No! Wait-” Helen had almost no time to respond before she was forcefully gagged, as she was carried away by the very same agents.
“Alissa, dear,” Trevor turned his attention to his secretary, looking apathetic to the previous struggles.
“Yes, Mr. Garretson,” she asked, awaiting his new order, if only so she doesn’t have to tolerate his bullshit any longer than she should.
“Prepare the letters and send them right to Ivy and Calvin! Tell him to come save her if they dare!”
Alissa looked at him, wondering why he even thought giving the enemy a heads up was a good idea, before simply nodding, and saying, “Yes, Mr. Garretson,” before leaving the room.
Trevor looked out the window, and right at the Mississippi, a cruel smile crawling across his face, as he began to laugh.
“He he he he. Ha ha ha ha. Ha ha ha ha! HA HA HA HA- Wait, no, I’m not done evil laughing yet, DON’T END THE FANFIC HERE-”