A/N: Ok, so it might seem to be dragging by time you get to the bottom, provided that hasn't happened for you already…I'm shooting from the hip here, but I can foresee this picking up next chapter, and if not then, definitely by chapter four. Depending on what happens I might bump up the rating and include that change in the summery—if I even make it that far. Fixed some things I overlooked in my first chapter. Don't own Boondocks, don't sue, you'll get nothing. Language, swearing.

"…See, Riley, I told you bout that shit…" Huey said matter-of-factly after he informed him of what happened.

"Man Huey, you jus don't understand!" Riley wined.

"I guess so. I don't see how hard it could've just to tell the man 'sorry, my bad'. I told you it would've been cool, but there you go, tryin' ta be all big and bad, now you stuck. Really Riley, you need to go tell that man the truth before he does something to our house." Huey said pointedly. Riley scoffed in return. "Man, thas the bitch way out!"

By now Huey was tiring of his brother's seemingly irrational method of approaching this problem.

"Do I have to go to Thugnificent's myself and fess up for you?" He asked with folding arms and a signal raised brow. Riley recoiled intensely as his face twisted into mock horror. "Man, you talkin' bout snitchin' on me?!"

Huey sneered back. "Nigga its not like you hidin' anything! The only thing you're doing wrong, besides all of the obvious, is not bein' straight up witchyo boy—but clearly that can't be all that important for you seeing as that you haven't taken any steps to rectify the situation. It seems to me Riley that if you just come clean, you can avoid Thugnificent being mad at you; not that you should care because you don't need to be in his company anyways."

Riley just stared back at his brother. He hated it when he got all self-righteous when he knew he was right. But apparently what Huey wasn't noticing was the principle of the situation. Seeing as Huey never actively tried making friends of any sort in Woodcrest, he didn't understand the importance of making good on what he promised to other people because he didn't do it in the first place. Riley, however, had no intentions of being some lonesome-ass nigga with nothing but his computer to keep him company. Hell, even Grandad got out more than Huey did.

"An' that's precisely the shit that makes you lame nigga." Riley snorted at last. Huey's face drew up in confusion as he couldn't find the connection between what he said and his brother's retort. He continued to watch him with the same annoyed befuddlement as his little brother left their bedroom.

"I swear I think that boy doesn't know how to make sense." Huey muttered to himself.

Next day…again…

Riley stood just off the lawn of Thugnificent's estate-like property, feeling a pang of helplessness pull at him from somewhere within. He looked down at himself—first to the Timberlands on his feet, his saggy dark denim jeans, then lastly to his throwback jersey. As loose fitting as the shirt underneath his jersey was, it still felt like it was smothering him. He held the brim of his hat as he looked up at Thugnificent's house. He purposely forwent the chain his idol had given him as reward for swarming his property with all the scantily clad hoes months before. He felt then he didn't have the right to wear it…hell, maybe he should have at least brought it along, seeing as Thugnificent would more than likely demand it's return upon finding that there would in fact, be no hoes for his T.V. spot that would be recording today. A gentle breeze blew in from the west, caressing his brown skin as it did. There was no comfort in that normally welcomed touch. Taking a deep breath, Riley prepared for the worst as he made his way to the front door.

"Riley! What's up my nig!" Thugnificent's baritone voice boomed across his massive expanse of a living room.

"Sup, Thugnificent!" Came Riley's forced reply.

It took only seconds before Riley's small form was dwarfed by the towering gangsta-rapper. Now was the time…Riley had been regretting it most of the night that he didn't call back and tell Thugnificent what was up when he had finally exhausted all of his known options. His last ditch effort had been to call up A Pimp Named Slickback and see if he could work a deal, however, Riley knew all too well that he needed serious paper if he were to even talk to the pimp—money of which he didn't have. That being so, the best thing at that point was to get his thieving cohorts Ed and Rummy to foot him the cash first. Of course that had been a bust right away when he couldn't get in touch with either of them. There was still that option of A Pimp Named Slickback's cache of money hoes, but it would be hella expensive and the whole point of the mission was so that Thugnificent, who had the money anyway, wouldn't have to pay. Oh well.

"Ay, Thugnificent," Riley began slowly, not looking up at the man. "About them hoes man, they ain't comin'." There, the truth was out. Of course what happened next was inevitable.

"What?!" Came Thugnificent's squeak of incredulity. "You jokin' right man?" He asked with nervous laughter. "Cuz when I called you last night at like, ten o'clock, you said it was all good, cuz I told you I had a T.V. spot today so, yeah…you jokin' right?"

Riley's jaw twitched like the legs of an overturned cockroach as he struggled for an answer. By then he had met the gaze of the man and he did not look happy. "Look Thugnificent, there wasn't nothin' I could do! All them hoes backed out at the last minute! When I talked to you it was cool, but now it ain't!" And it was the truth…well, most of it, and not exactly in that order.

"Nigga why the hell you ain't call me?!" Thugnificent screeched. "Leece that way I coulda dun sumthin' bout it! Hell Riley! Nigga what the hell?!"

"Wait Thugnificent, you can still get some hoes!" Riley exclaimed putting his hands up in an attempt to calm the man down.

"Nigga how? It is two-thurdy in the afternoon and dem folks spose'ta be here in fowdy-five minutes." He said pointing to his iced-out watch. "Where you gunna get fidy hoes in fowdy-five fuckin' minutes?! Thas less then a minute a hoe!"

"I know Thugnificent, but I still got sumthin'!" Riley practically pleaded. Thugnificent sneered with a raised eyebrow as he awaited Riley's offer.

"I know a pimp named A Pimp Named Slickback who has hoes like a sheik! And they ain't them nasty used up five-dolla hoes either, these bitches is fine." Riley smiled weakly waiting for Thugnificent's response.

"Lil nigga," he began calmly. "Do you have any idea how much high-dolla pimped hoes cost? They ain't high-dolla for nuthin'." The boy regarded rapper intently. "These bitches ain't even by the service alone. They time plus service. Just havin' them here lookin' fine is an expense in and of itself."

"But…" Riley began innocently. "…Ain't you rich?"

"Nigga have you looked around??" Thugnificent fussed as he outstretched his arms to the space around him. "Have you not seen the spectacular domicile that is my house? I'm damn near broke! Why the hell you think I'm doin' this T.V. spot? I am trying to keep my face out there so these people who buy my records don't fo'get me in between releases!" He said thuding his finger into his chest. "Nigga this shit ain't no damn joke, this is business! Hoes, money and beats is the blood fuelin' this lifestyle. I asked you to do this so I wouldn't hafta spend money on no damn tities! Now I've gone from havin' free hoes to overpriced stuck-up contracted bitches of which I must do business with some prissy-ass, pink caddie-driven nigga who speaks fa'them! Do you understand what I'm tellin' you lil nigga?"

Riley nodded his head timidly. Not exactly off the hook, but at least he wasn't throwing him out saying that he couldn't come back.

With his frustrations expelled, Thugnificent took in a large breath and exhaled deeply. "Now what about this Bitch Named Slickback, you got a number?"

"Yeah?"

There was a brief pause. "Nigga whatchu still standin' there for? Go get me some Goddamn prices!!"