Disclaimer!

The views of the Characters in this story are entirely their own, and are not endorsed or condoned by the Author in any way. This story takes place in a world like ours, where racism is an unfortunate reality, and the demonization and dehumanization of political or economic rivals is one of the central motifs of this work. Be prepared for characters to say and do things which you may find shocking or inflammatory.

Prologue

Why do all of my best clients choose such lousy times to call the plumber? I mean, who breaks their toilet at four in the morning on a Saturday anyhow? Do you think we're just sitting around day and night waiting for you to call about your clogged drain?

As I continued my internal rant, the light turned green. I pushed the accelerator to the floor, and for an agonizing quarter of a second, the engine was quiet. But soon enough I felt that familiar rumble as the engine roared to life and the old panel van flew down the deserted streets, like a comically oversized bullet.

If it wasn't for Pauline kicking me out of the apartment, I wouldn't even be driving around Brooklyn at night. It's safer than it used to be, but I still wouldn't want to be caught out on Myrtle at this time of night even if there were other drivers out.

Pauline… It had all gone so fast, I could barely remember what had happened. One day I was running my fingers through her smooth brown hair, telling her everything would be okay, and the next day that fucking gorilla was throwing my suitcases down the stairs. "Kong"I said softly, easing off the gas.

Jean-Baptiste 'Cranky' Kong, that was his name. Six foot four and almost three hundred pounds; he had the look of someone trying to work out a complex problem in his head and getting nowhere fast, but he had a right hook like being kicked by a donkey. After he killed that Russian they wouldn't let him fight, but the way he acted, you had to wonder if he knew he wasn't in the ring.

"What the hell does she see in him?" I mumbled to myself as I passed my turn. Looking around for cops, I hung a sharp U-turn, the screeching tires driving the thoughts of Pauline and Kong from my mind. I pulled to a stop outside of the apartment; someone had taken my spot, but they wouldn't do it again soon. With some clever positioning, I made sure they were wedged between the curb and my side bumper.

So what if I get a fucking ticket? He took MY spot; it's even got my NAME on it! IF I don't at least get that, what the fuck am I paying for; some rat trap with three rooms, no oven, and holes in the walls?

I looked back at the van as I got up to the door buzzer; the van was a piece of shit, but the decal still looked like the day I had it printed up. Taking up almost the whole length of the van, right at eye level, L&M Plumbing offered low rates and quality service, with a phone number and even our own website.

Give me ONE other plumber in this town smart enough to design a website as nice as ours, just one. One in a million my brother, one in a freaking million.

I cleared my throat, climbed the last step, and hit the buzzer for 5-a.

"Who is it?" a tired voice asked after a long pause.

"It's-a-me, Mario. Now buzz me the fuck in."