Today, the village was desolated. The smoke that once rose from the chimneys no longer was. There were no longer anyone wandering the streets, alone. People stayed in groups, and in groups they were, for there were merely 8 of them left in the town. Some people say 8 is a magical number, one that brings luck and good fortune. And among the eight hid the Mafia, hell bent on placing Muffin Central under their control, even if they had to kill everyone to do it.
The time had come. The eight people gathered in front of the gallows that had taken the lives of so many innocents in the last seven days. Two of them pointed at the man they had set free a day ago, while the other six pointed at one of the two. It was decided. Seven of them dragged that one person up to the gallows. That one person knew that struggling was futile, for the Mafia would win, despite his best efforts. The lever was pulled, the trapdoor opened, and the innocent person died without any last words. Now there were seven.
As soon as the lever was pulled, the Mafia revealed themselves. There were three of them, the three of them had managed to overwhelm the entire village through a combination of both luck and wit. From within their coats, each of them pulled out a pistol, pointing them at the remaining villagers. One of them tried to escape, and was promptly shot in the leg, chest, and head by the three. The person fell to the ground, dead. Now there were six.
The three other villagers attempted to struggle against the Mafia, but one of them eventually gave in, and knew immediately that the village had lost. The Mafia... they had won. He sat down quietly, not resisting the Mafia's new reign. The three struggled with the two, having to resort to clubbing one unconscious with the butt of a pistol, while the other one, though highly obstinate, gave in.
The Mafia took over Muffin Central, and they lived happily ever after. The end. Best. Ending. Ever.