Artie "The Finger" Savini
Artie “The Finger” Savini grew up in a small logging community that migrated around the Northern Park of the U.S. from New York to Minnesota. Wherever trees got too tall, he and his family would go and put them in their place, usually in a mill, where they would be turned into lumber, which would in turn, be put in it’s place. More often than not, that lumber would end up as tables on which young American housewives could place coffee in preperation for her young American husbands to start their genuinely American days. That is to say that Artie was a craftsman that built the platforms on which the American Dream got its fuel. Once Artie grew a little bit wiser and realized that he didn’t have his own table (though who really needs a table, when you are moving from tent town to tent town) he decided to move to the city of Chicago, where he could find the countless opportunitied promised to strong, hardworking young men and hopefully find out what all of he and his familiy’s life’s work had built. What he found was an overcrowded wasteland in need of some cleaning up. He found work from a cousin, Carmen, who introduced him to “Big T,” a shadowy figure, but a well paying boss nonetheless. He promised Artie the opportunity to “protect and serve” his community, seeing as how the local police weren’t doing much about the situation. Since his acceptance into the syndicate, he has spent the last two years in this sprawling metropolis until almost a week ago, when he was nearly killed by a couple of Big T’s “clients.” He had always suspected that these two were fuzz, but when the sirens started blaring within seconds of breaking Freddie’s neck, he knew that it was time to get out. Not very much progress was made, as Artie was arrested for speeding only about 100 miles south of the city.
Wuz dun wit wurkin owt. had nuten to do twoday. looken fourwerd to gitten me a terkey samich but mistur bif tought he wuz tuf and wud go owt n git im sum kind a metel.don no wen im a get fed. beter be soon. big t gonna shit wen he find owt wat hapmed bak in da cety. i did not want too kel dose gys they made mee. we wer gon sitle like men but Luis puled owt tat swetcshblad so I had to. nevr gon git made now. weerd sonds cumin from owtsid dont no wat it is sonds lik slob is eting wit his mout opin. now heer thomps thomps thomps. nutin. thomps. now sonds like skraching. thomps. mor thoomps. if i aint gevin a samich sun im a rip tat bif gis throt owt.