Goons

Your birthday. That was today. As the head of the mafia, you didn't celebrate it too much. Maybe you'd treat yourself to a little treat, but not much else. You were usually busy, and even if not you just weren't bothered to celebrate. You thought it'd be the same this year. The average day, just with a cupcake or some shit. But as you sit at your table, brainstorming ways of capturing Chance, you suddenly hear what could be described as a herd of elephants outside of your room. There's a pause, before suddenly the door burst open. At least a dozen of your goons pour into the room, holding balloons. One approaches and lays a cake on your table, before stepping back and joining the crowd. The cake has bright pink fondant and white icing, and looks carefully made. "Happy birthday, Mafioso," They chant in unison, and suddenly music starts playing from a speaker you hadn't even noticed them carrying. "Kiss kiss." They finish. At that, they suddenly break into dance, just for you. It's clear it's rehearsed, as they are all in sync. It almost feels like a fever dream.