I had a new idea for a story, so don't worry, I'm still doing WCFIL, but this one is Jerry and a OC character (Not me). Jerry is OOC but I hope that you enjoy the first chapter! Thanks! And sorry for that bad summary!

I do not own Kickin' It. And be warned...there is some colorful language.


"Don't you dare be like that hijo de perra you want to call your papa. Ay…you hear me Niño? You're not gonna be like us…you're going to college, make something of yourself, marry a quality woman, you promise me that? Ok? Promise your mama that you will make her the happiest, most proud mother in the world."


My eyes fluttered open just as the white smoke danced above my head like airy snakes and I couldn't help but swirl them with my finger. My upper body jolted up when I felt sudden vibrations coming from my thigh. I pulled out the phone to find that an alarm had been set and I remembered suddenly where I had to be in about 45. I looked over at Blaze, who was still in his small coma and I shook him until he woke up. His eyes shot wide open and he flailed around before looking up at me and sighing. "Damn man, thought it was an earthquake or something."

I shook my head, "Nah. C'mon, we gotta go." I stood up and scanned the damp, dimly lit, smoke filled basement; the long wispy strands of smoke slithering around the various passed out bodies. I cautiously stepped over them and saw a small red light from the corner of my eye. I turned around to find him lounging against the wall, a dirty mattress underneath him, and two girls lay beside him, wrapped in a blanket. "Me and Blaze are 'bout to bounce. Thanks for last night, it was dope."

A thick white cloud escaped from King's mouth and the corner of his mouth rose in a devilish smirk. "Y'know, you're certainly lucky Jerry. I hope you know that we have your back, and I do hope that you have ours. We're a family; there is no other bond that is stronger. You understand?" I nodded at him just as Blaze staggered behind me, his hand clamped down on my shoulder. "You and Blaze better not fuck up; and remember, be grateful."

I took one last look at King, sitting upon his filthy discolored throne and ascended the creaky staircase. I pushed the door open and Blaze stumbled forward, almost making me lose whatever balance I still had. "Damn bitch, quit fallin'! I'm not your cane." Blaze chuckled, "My bad dude." Blaze and I walked over to the front door but stopped when we heard a voice behind us. "Hey guys!"

"Whas' good with it Wayne?" Blaze asked him as he both gave us our signature handshake. "Nothin' just chillin."

"Damn, your balls gotta drop soon my son. I'm not sure how much longer I can handle that squeaky shit," Blaze said to him laughing and messing up his short brown hair.

The 10 year-old giggled, "Whatever bitch, least I get more ass than you though." Even I had to laugh a little; his voice simply did not match the words that he spewed from his mouth.

Blaze folded his arms, "Well little man, your girls ain't grown. They still flat…mine are the size of watermelons." I rolled my eyes as I opened the door, "Well, we gotta go Wayne, keep it chill alright?"

"Course bro, always."

I gave him a fist pound and Blaze gave him a light slap on his cheek. We both walked out the door and towards the piece of crap Blaze liked to call a car. Blaze took driver while I took passenger seat and I pulled down the glove compartment where we kept a stash of Visine and I passed a bottle to him. We both pulled down the mirror and checked our eyes, red and bloodshot. "Shit dude, we got fucked up last night," Blaze joked as he examined himself.

"Hell yeah," I said back to him. I watched Blaze turn the key several times before the car roared to life. "Where we headed?"

"My place."

I sighed as we pulled up to the small white house; the scene was all too familiar. The unmanaged tall grass and weeds that sprouted from the cracked dry ground, the rusted metal fencing, the crooked mailbox, chipped paint, and broken windows. "You want me to wait?" Blaze asked me.

"Nah, I'll walk; you go pick up Casper and I'll meet you guys before we go in," I said to him as I got out of the car. "Aight, see you." I watched Blaze pull off and disappear down the street and I found myself looking at the pathetic shack that I was forced to call my home. I hopped over the fence and walked up until I was face to face with the hanging screen door, already knowing what was on the other side of the door.

I inhaled deeply as the smell of cigar smoke, cheap booze, burritos, and hookers made their way into my sinuses. I walked over and looked at the pull-out couch, the inhabitants passed out in a nasty, sweaty, naked mess. I couldn't help but stare at the one particular person; he had a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand, and the hand of one of the hookers in his mouth, right under his unkempt bushy moustache. Why the fuck did Mom have to be the one that died? The stairs below my feet creaked loudly as I went up and made my way to a blackened door marked with skull and crossbones. I chuckled, "Dad beat my ass for this."

I stepped over the piles of dirty clothes and moved towards the large mirror that stood on top of the broken dresser. I looked closely at the cut that rested on the top of my bottom lip. I touched it lightly with my finger, a small bit of blood coming along. I didn't even take any time to do the same to the cut above my eyebrow. I dreaded the sound of the zipper and what I was going to find underneath it. A tattered, ripped, bloody white t-shirt stared back at me, reminding me of the events that had happened only hours before.

As I slipped the shirt off, I wondered if the blood on the shirt was from me, or from my opponent. I scanned my floor and picked up a wrinkled black shirt with a skull print and a pair of ripped black jeans. I put them both on and slipped on a pair of my favorite worn leather combat boots, tucking the pant leg right into them. I got up, grabbing the black leather belt from the dresser and placing it around the loops, leaving it undone in front of the fly. I walked up to my closet and opened it, smiling when I stared down the only thing hanging; a leather jacket. I carefully took it off the hanger and inhaled deeply, the smell was intoxicating and the feeling of putting it on just felt like heaven.

I tugged on the jacket and smiled as I picked up my phone and left the room, closing the door right behind me. I bounded back down the steps and was about to move out the door but not before a low gruff voice called out my name. "Jerry! Where the hell are you going?"

I turned around to find my Dad staggering towards me, the whiskey bottle still in his grasp. He leaned in closer, "I'll say it again you little shithead; where are you going?" His speech was slurred and the scent of the alcohol mixed in heavily with his breath. I looked him directly in his bloodshot eyes, "It's the first day of school, y'know that place for the smart people not for idiotas like you."

"You want to talk to your daddy like that? Heh…I'll show you who's an idiota when your ass gets home. And if you didn't know…it's you Niño pequeno. You're not smart; you don't deserve to be in that school. They should have left your ass in juvie."

"Goodbye Dad," I said to him as I turned and walked out the door.

"And don't come back, you pathetic mistake!"