STELM: Ok a set piece chapter for SK. Real flexible guy. Crime never escapes him, it seems. That and it because this is a GTA STORY BITCH!
Ok now that that's over, on to the (only 1 come on guys) review…
Native Gunz: It might be my yunginess that makes me say that (pussy is pussy…). Yah most of the positions porn stars use are meant to arouse the watcher not themselves or their partner. Then it's TRANSITION TIME!
But really don't we all feel like we're hitting it all the time? I got one joke for Montana Fishburne. "I think she chose the blue pill" Corny I know but that's how I like my bread (cornbread).
About Cruz I played a few GTA games myself and racism is really inexistent against the protagonist, mostly. Of course a few slurs were thrown at Niko (even being called white at one point) but other than that the protagonist is pretty much a regular Joe (with guns and will). For example usually an old Mammy figure (Auntie Poulet) would usually shy away from hiring Tommy maybe even getting angry at his unwillingness. I would know, my grama is always wary of the other race but then again that's everybody. Everybody is scared of the unknown starting from the time when we got used to seeing light and were told to rest soundly with light taken away from us… Ever since we decided to hunt out of our normal hunting area and found people who looked more or less like the people we were used to living with. So… yah race might be a back drop to this story but not much a factor. Mexicans aren't that racist here, of course they have their own little cliques in my high school but they mess with everybody really.
SC's first gang that is still recognized today is probably KKK. I can give open testimony that Bloods down south are real, SC and definitely Atlanta. Though Bloods and Folks have their own little treaty rules they still shootout, so that treaty really is treated like shit, but it was worse. In GA I don't believe a treaty stands. They just wild out on each other.
IDK about NY bloods I've only been their twice to see my brother (who moved back down) and my Grama (who's still there). Most G Shine niggas make their own rules and stacks (finger signals). For example they got a way to fold their flag (while folks usually wear black rosary beads), they run by a set of codes that if disrespected they get a V (violations). If you get a V (depending on how bad or big the V is) then you'll get jumped by a bunch of like gang members. I knew these twins who got jumped for false claiming (saying that you're a part of a gang you are not with) by 20 other dudes. I'm bout to get this one guy who started something because I was talking to his girl (in a normal friend level of course), he says he's a six (Folk) but he never says it around the Bloods that control our school (so I could talk to my bro (whose a folk) about it and he could get the dude jumped). So…. Yah that's that.
Georgia has a big melting pot of gangs (and jobs, that's why a lot of people here are moving there). We got a few motor cycling gangs but the most they've done in a long time is just run stop lights and solicit prostitution. So… yah they're pretty much sitting on their ass. But SC gangs are more about street justice and how they can do that as a movement for example a lot of SC and GA Folks Nation members will instead of swearing on 6, they'll say on BOSS (Brothers Of a Strong Struggle). My bro (who by the way is just my best friend but we are close like brothers (and we live next door to each other)) always says it and people who rep gangs associated to it will say it.
The Gulf Cartel is a Mexican Cartel in itself along with the Zetas Cartel and all those bad things so… Yah all crazy and power grab situation type things. Mexican Mafia might be the main antagonist in this story while GMF might be on SK's side a little bit more.
Aren't all pigs the same way when they're stuffed inside your trunk (I joke)? I hate them bitches they are more focused on getting drunk white boys out public areas then fighting the real crimes that go around here. For example (I've been making a lot of them lately (examples I mean)) my long time acquaintance, Nicole who just happens to be a blonde got off of a marijuana possession court without a court date while my bro got caught fighting some guy and knocked him out and had to go to through the whole court process before his charges got dropped. A more similar case involved another one of my friends who had to go through a two month DJJ type thing for possession. Both similar amounts of weed.
Oh and I didn't know you knew Afro Spirit like that, cool to have a Fan fiction Friend you know. Only writers I know are writing vampire stories. Sadly Vampires Choice (a free app my friend got on his Kindle Fire) changed my mind to these stories. Anyways I just skimmed your Bio and I just wanted to put my input that my ancestors had their papers (shipping and handling). :)
Chapter 4: Wake and Kill Two Twin Snakes
"You tha boss son now get yo asss up! B-b-boss get yo ass up! B-b-boss get yo ass up!" An annoying alarm repeated, and repeated, and repeated, with machine gun firing sounds playing as the background.
"Shit what time is it?" I asked as I groggily deactivating Roderick's alarm clock. It read 2:30 pm, wow I never knew anybody whose alarm clock was already set to sleeping in. Well now that most of my day has been wasted I figured I'd just spend the rest of the day relaxing. That's when Roderick hopped out the bed literally, almost causing my chest to cave in as his 14 inch feet landed on me. Damn that boy was big.
"Oh sorry bruh." Roderick said in apology as he scratched his undersides heading out the room. After I heard the bathroom door close I decided that I had to do something too. I got up and looked around at my surroundings. A grimy coloration of white was the theme for the whole room except the dark purple sheets that looked like they were from the flea market and a matching heavily stained purple carpet. The bed covered up a little less than half of the room. The rest made room for a few of my bags, a closet, and an old wooden dresser with a flat screened TV. Well at least the place was clear of the infamous waterbugs that usually invaded most southern homes.
Last night I told Roderick all of what I got into in Liberty City. A new level of respect seemed to set in between us. No longer was I the goodie two shoes who got lucky up in Liberty but the lay low figure that you may see in a western film. He then told me about his debt with the Mexican Cartel and how he could use that money of mines. He swore that he would pay m back but I doubted it. I'm no asshole, everybody has those times where the stuck in between a rock and a hard place, so I told him not to worry about it.
So figuring he'd allow me my rest today I flopped down on Rod's bed putting my feet on my former resting place, a spare mattress he had "laying around". Finding the remote I turned on the TV which was already tuned into SHN, the South Harroline news station. So I let it go on while I drank the remnants of a bedtime 40 oz I had last night.
"It was late last evening yesterday when a Cartel related Drug shootout took place." A blonde woman said standing in front of the neighborhood me and Tank "visited" yesterday, "One once notorious Jaybul neighborhood in Crescenta was caught in the crossfire. The police report 5 civilians dead, four other critically injured. The fighters themselves were reported to be mostly Hispanic in origin while there were two African American men in company who escaped the scene. Arrest have been made but the whereabouts of the two African American men is still processing This is yet another terrible Cartel related shootout that is predicted to continue. If you have any information please contact your local police department. Back to you Emily and Jason." The crime reporter said and the image switch over to on male and one female News host.
"Coming up the search for the dubious SK is still in the making and authorities continue to search baffled at how such a public person eluded his peers to his whole name. The search in itself has moved to both Beanton and Alderny, the people of SH can sleep safe knowing that the madman has been quarantined to the north. This is South Harroline News more news when we return." The female host said and the camera faded out followed by commercial. It felt good knowing that the state you were in wouldn't be looking for you. I changed the channel as the commercials droned on and I started to watch a political show that was focusing on the issue of Medicare. I left the room as soon as I heard one of the white republican host say to a guess say in a tone that could be confused with sarcasm, "Why don't we just put all the black people in chains again? If they can't afford it they should get a better job."
"Classic South Harroline TV." I said as I walked through the house's hallway. As I walked into the living room I looked outside, life was normal outside. Nobody really outside except people who had just left the Gym that was down the street.
Figuring I had to at least pretend that it was morning I got some eggs out of the fridge. Great there were two more, good for another occasion. As I began to crack the eggs I got my chef's bearings. The kitchen had a brown tiles and green counters. The laundry room was located to the left of the stove and to the right of the sink. Both of the basic kitchen elements faced the wooden table with a mix of plastic and wooden chairs. I remember this table from my late Great Grama's house. He must have taken it out of Mom's storage after she passed.
It seemed that that's not all Rod took from Great Grams. His seasoning cabinet was stacked; I opened another cabinet to see that it contained only original Grits and Creamy Wheat's. Just like the south I knew as a kid. Grits, grits, grits, and Creamy Wheats.
I got out a few different spices and other accessory ingredients like ham and bacon. With eggs as an exception Rod had a stacked kitchen. Guess the criminal economy is doing good for him, real good. It seems that this life made life good for a lot of people, that was until some psychopathic mobsters decide to blow you sky high while you're sleep. I could only imagine the crazy things that could happen to Roderick and me. The Mexican Mafia were almost the least of my worries about now. I could have FIB agents at my door at any second.
The fact that as soon as I thought that I heard a knock at the door. I wanted to go back to the bedroom to grab my Uzi but figured it would be better to just take whoever was at the door. So as I cautiously approached the door I felt all sorts of silly seeing the waitress from the grill. Guess I had to see her in a different light now. Seeing her here at the front door I could definitely see her going down on somebody (me). She was a short asian, that much I saw from the hold-up attempt, but as I looked at her now she had a average if not below sized bust but had a face, what a face. She looked a little impatient as I just stood there so I quickly went for the keys that were on the table. Before I went to the door I made the move to scramble eggs around a little before I went to the door. I wanted to put on a shirt but I guess it was too late. She would have to accept me and my green Sprunk pajama pants.
"Mornin." I said trying not to look at her awkwardly. I don't know what it was but I figured she was going to thank me in some extraordinary way about saving her back at the restaurant. I was wrong.
"Roderick got you whipin babies already?" The waitress asked referring to the legal cooking I had going on in the background; I couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed. That would have been a cool thing to open a conversation with. I knew this woman knew what she was talking about because as soon as she spoke the scents of cannabis came to my nose. Not exactly the look of a crackhead but stoners have connections everywhere.
"Nah I'm rusty anyway." I said so I wouldn't look like a lame who knew nothing about "the life".
"Uh huh." The waitress replied looking unimpressed.
"You look better without blood on your face." I said trying my best to pass it off as a joke so the woman would remember how I saved her ass yesterday, without looking like a douche.
"Yeah thanks. It does wonders for my complexion." The waitress said sarcastically in a valley girl accent before moving past me and into the living room where Roderick just entered.
I went back to my cooking and Rod and his employee talked about some payment issue. He called her by the name June. Now I'd know what to call her. Depending on what I wanted to call her for. As soon as the eggs were done I went in the living room to join them. Their previous conversation stopped and I figured it would be rude to just sit there and eat without starting up a new one.
"So what's on the hit list tonight, commander. Want me to get into another gunfight with the Mexican Mafia? I love being the star of the SH underworld already." I said sarcastically as I mouthed a forkful of scrambled eggs.
"Oh shit that was you and Tank wasn't it? Those beaners don't give a fuck. I got a dealer who slings under them. Their operations are tighter than a nun's pussy." June said adding her insight to our situation, in the form of telling us that we were basically screwed.
"Well if you still want that good shit you better not cross. Remember Emily?"Rod said and June let out a long distressed moan. This was something she had probably heard thousands of times.
"Yah yah. As soon as she left to work for some Kin Nation goons she got hacked up by some crazy guy." The stoner said and Roderick beamed.
"That's right I take good care of you girls. You don't even know." The pimp said proudly withdrawing about triple dime pack of weed (just by eying it) from his pocket. Damn it looked like some high quality shit now that I looked at it a little closer as June examined it thoroughly smelling it herself, I could smell it from my seat. That's what kept this Asian persuasion coming back for more.
"Thank you daddy." June said with exaggerated enthusiasm as she got up and started for the door. I followed her out. Needing to drop off my plate anyway.
"Oh shit." June said before a Mexican man came out the laundry room holding a handgun. Luckily I hadn't been completely in the kitchen and the Mexican didn't notice me tip myself back into the living room. The sounds of the perverted reality show Cougar Isle masking the sounds of my footsteps.
"What's that June?" Rod asked getting up. I motioned for him to get his gun.
"Oh just dropped my keys." The asian woman said as if this was just a normal thing. In reality she was being held at gun point. I would have been shocked but I had been at this for a while and this could get really messy at any second. One sound and June would be no more.
I then took cover position behind a chair. I wouldn't be shit without a gun but I could still get the jump on him. I peeked out of the cover to see that June was still stationary. It wasn't long before the man had her in a hostage lock. Deciding I couldn't let him get past the living room I decided to take action.
"Freeze bitch!" I yelled in a loud and overlord like. Almost immediately the Hispanic pushed June away and ran to take cover supposedly thinking I was armed and dangerous. Knowing I'd have to get June outta here I got out of cover and grabbed June, almost carrying her to the cover the hallway provided.
The Hispanic started firing as soon as I got in cover. The tension showed on my sweaty bare torso. Fuck, where was Roderick? A few minutes of me poking my head out of my cover to see if he had advanced later my half brother came out loaded. Two AK-47s and two pistols. The pistols being strapped to his hip. He looked like a black Donny Fortuna. All jokes aside we could definitely take this one guy. That conquistador flag was hung high… until the door busted down revealing the gunman's partner in crime.
"Get the fuck down!" Another probably Hispanic man said breaking Roderick's side door. Simultaneous with the break in Roderick tossed me a stick and handed one of the pistols to June. I guess this was the final standoff.
"How do you like me now you bean eating fuck!" Roderick said angrily as he pointed his chopper at the Hispanic. Then it clicked to me, I knew that face. I worked with that face.
"Dame? What the fuck are you doing here?" I said not lowering my gun for anything.
"Fucking white bitches. What the fuck you think idiota?" Dame said not lowering his gun either.
"SK you stupid polla!" The original assailant said coming out his kitchen cover. I recognized the man as Lass, Dame's twin brother. I had worked with the twins about five times in my dealing with the Vasquez family, then thrice more afterwards. Good men, but they would work for the devil if he asked him to. Guess we weren't to unlike.
"You know these guys?" June asked her weapon was still raised, along with the rest of us.
"Yah these guys worked with me when my ex-family was trying to connect with a prominent Mexican drug dealing family." I said remembering the golden days. They seemed like so long ago.
"Yah it was mostly us dragging his unconscious body." Dame jokes, he was never good at those. That situation happened once in some treaty signing gone wrong. I took the brunt of the fire so I blacked out when the pain became too much. Those were in my earlier days.
"Well I've saved both of your asses on multiple occasions. Remember that time we robbed that Cherry Popper factory and you two got caught up filling your bags and I had to cover you're asses when I could have easily hauled ass and gotten my pay." I explained and the favors seemed to be evened out. The Mexican duo decided to call it fair and Roderick put his two cents in.
"So what you gonna do? Shoot us?" Rod asked clearly ready to mow down the twins in one burst.
"Well we were hired, but it'd feel wrong to kill a good old pal like SK." Lass said setting his gun down on the floor so, his twin brother followed as a sign of peace. We held onto ours, hey they were on our home court, we couldn't be too careful. Plus staying on our side would just mess up their deal with the Mexican Mafia. Something very very bad could happen in the future, with our debts to the Mafia (Rod's, the twin's, Tank's, and me) over our heads we might not see next month.
"Well that brings the problem of the Mexican Mafia. Meaning we can't go back to Liberty where the Costo Mafia just sat up shop nor can we move out of here." Dame brought to the groups attention. Seems like we were all fucked.
"Hold up if the Mafia sent you to kill SK then what about Tank?" June asked then Rod got up thinking of the worse. We all were.
"Oh you mean the companion that was with SK. Sorry to say that our mission where supposed to be completed at the same time. A Costo family execution style and function." Dame said looking a little solem even the twins only saw Tank as just another mark. It was that state of mind that most killers used to get through the day without pulling their own cord.
"Well that leaves one thing to do." Rod said running past everybody going into the front kitchen door. Everybody else followed and Lass herded us into the twin's professionally enhanced landstalker.
In less than eight seconds the truck hit 60 and we didn't slow down from there, weaving between traffic. Rod insisted under gunpoint that he drive. Lass eagerly showed all of the cars speed enhancing gadgets. The vehicle was pumped with so many different Illegal enhancements that if there was a body building competition for trucks this one would when hands down. The speed was heart beat raising quickly by the motion and nausea threatened to become a factor. The world seemed to just pass by in a blur. I can't tell you how fast we got to Tank's apartment building but we knew it was his when we got on its street.
The scene was almost poetic. Except nobody here was quoting Shakespeare. The hood going crazy. A shootout was the norm but to see homes destroyed was a different thing, a new thing. Children ran this way and that to tell the neighborhood what was going on. Tank was on the sidewalk talking to some Firemen who arrived on the scene. He looked at us with the bloody murder eyes. It was scary seeing this side of Tank, but his overall glare was so menacing it was hard to do more than just stare blindly at the flaming apartment building. I guess me and Tank had more than a bounty on our head, we now had both of our home's burned by organized crime. Except his may not have had all the bells and whistles that mine's had, but then again all wood burns to ash.
"Rod, I don't want to hear your shit. I'm staying the night till further notice." The giant said solemnly and seriously before setting the mattress up on the roof of the truck assisted by me. I felt sorry for the man. He lost his everything today. As we pulled off the police sirens sounded far behind us. I heard several excited screams as the apartment building's structure failed and
The ride back was so silent that if a mouse ejaculated you would be able to hear its jizz hit the floor. I know that was a weird way to say it was really quiet but hey when the ride there was so quick you'd think we'd be back home ten minutes ago. As soon as we got there Tank threw his mattress in one of the rooms that was furnished with great grama's bunk bed she let people sleep in whenever they visited.
Later that evening the twins asked if they could stay over until the heat cooled down and Rod agreed, through my persistent persuasion. They decided to sleep in the vacant bunk beds. Dame got the top, he was the oldest by a few seconds, and he always made people remember it. Before Rod, June, and me went to sleep (and go home in June's case) we made a makeshift repair to the door with the help of a few of Rod's boys from across the street. We smoked the long day off and hit the hay saying goodbye to June. It felt good to have some sort of a makeshift team now.
STELM: So… nobody actually died in this chapter but all's good. Next chapter will be his ACTUAL mission, promise. If you hadn't notice by the pass 3,000 words I just typed, this story even though still revolving around SK, is going to be a team story. Of course there will be missions that SK can handle himself, other missions might require teamwork. So as to say SK can probably do a drug running job solo, taking out a high ranking gang member might require physical and radio assistance, and a drug or bank heist may require everybody including the people who work at the restaurant.
The white political statement was actually said to a BLACK guy who didn't even flinch to it. I don't know about him but I would of went ape shit in that news room. That's WIS Southern news stations for you. Grits are ground up corn and are the staple of Southern cuisine. Basically it's what Rice is to Japanese people. Creamy Wheats are a GTA version of Cream of Wheats. Basically Grits with sugar, and they have a brown color. Cougar Isle is based off of the comedy show 30 Rock, the show has a TV show called Milf Island.
SO with that said that's the chapter, next one coming up in a few. Hope everybody is having the hellish start to school that I'm having. This is STELM, STAY SLEAZING.
P.S. Just heard one of my white/cherokee friends say "If you want to hear from a real nigga." (referring to himself) and I didn't realize he said it until I got home… He's "ghettorer" than me so I guess it seemed natural coming from him, said he was going to sell fake rocks to some heads… Real nigga shit.
P.S.S. Thinking of starting a Novelization/Creative Writing Club.
P.S.S.S. Just finished my first competitive 5k for my team. I was too dead tired to look at the clock but the guy one my team who was just a little bit further than me told me he got a late 23, so I'm guessing on a low 24. Shouts out to the only public school there (us).
(Edit on P.S.S.S - I placed 131 out of 325 and my time was 24:07.07. Would have been a low 23 if I didn't get a cramp during the third K...)