There was one thing Tony Barra was sure of: when it came to little Italy, he was king. Being a capybara was tough, sure, but there was nothing quite so hard as holding an empire filled with them. With their coarse hair and buff arms, his capybara nation was informidable. Not a thing could stop them. That was until the Croc Crew came to town. A forgotten brother gang to the Capy’s, a tie broken due to a horrific love affair between Tony and the youngest sister of their leader. Mara. The most beautiful crocodile he had ever seen. He had given his all to Mara and was ready to go the distance. On the night of the proposal, Lyle (Mara’s elder brother) sent a SWAT team to the Capy’s base. Stealing away all of the gang’s fortunes and products, but most importantly, Mara. Most nights, Tony would chain smoke in the cold darkness of his office, thinking obsessively of his lost love. And the brothers that had left with it. He thought it was all over until the Crocs returned. Tony was overjoyed; he finally had his shot at revenge. And possibly even a chance at seeing his beautiful Mara once more. And so he planned the big shootout. Both gangs would meet at Backwood Alley, where they used to conduct most of their business as a family, and fight to the death. Tony had told his loyal friends this, making them believe he was in with them too. But deep down he knew he only wanted to see Mara. On the big day, Tony was anxious. All of his men waited to kill those whom they had once claimed as brothers. Lyle and the Crocs arrived, with no Mara in tow. Tony’s heart stopped in anguish. 

“Where is she?” He growled.

Lyle was silent. His head bent toward the gravel beneath his scaled claws. With a tear in his eye, he lifted his gaze to meet Tony’s.

“Mara is dead, Anton. I did it myself.”