The infamous crime mafia, known only as The Four Seasons, awaited their next job.

The boss stood before them.

“Winter,” he began. “I need you to stay cool in the face of pressure. Ice in your veins,” he said, patting his shoulder.

“Now, Summer,” he continued. “If the heat becomes too much for Winter, use that fiery temper of yours to make sure the cops remember who they’re working for, and burn that image into their minds.

“As for you, Spring,” he chuckled, “this operation is gonna bring in a whole lotta green. Make sure that it keeps growing after we reinvest it.

“And last, but certainly not least,” he said, rounding on Autumn and cupping his face. “You get them there safely, and STAY in the getaway car. And if anything happens–“

“CHRIST, DAD!” snapped Autumn. “Yes, I GET it. Once again, I’m the fucking fall guy.”

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