You're walking along the road in La Plata when the fog rolls in. Giant billboards hulk close above while the lights of the city are blotted out one by one. A black limo with the #1 license plate pulls up out of the pea soup and the driver, a goon in a trooper uniform, says, "Get een." The back door opens and there he is, all sharkskin suit and slick toupee, kicked back on the leather seat and grinning in a horizontal mirror: Mayor Donald "Pally" Dimaio. High up in the mist you hear an ape-like shriek: Ook ook ai ai ai! The engine is running. "Well, buddy," says Mayor Dimaio, holding out a rolled-up hundred. "You want some of this?"<BR>Take a bribe and a ride with La Plata's favorite rogue politico through a tripped-out town of strip clubs and drug dens where the heirs of Abraham Beige, original pilgrim, rub shoulders with gun-waving goodfellas who steal their lines from '90s gangster flicks. La Plata is a city for sale, and whether it's a job as a cop or a million-dollar contract you want, Don Dimaio will show you the way.