STELM: Didn't expect us to be back so soon? We from KillAPussy Inc. and the StayBaked Collective bring to you a chapter with Ernesto going solo through his early enemy.


Ernesto's Revenge

The Mexican gangster drove the Cavalcade to the 3rd ward again. He'd lost track of time as it was way after dark now. Flaco was probably still out there grubbing with the entire block. From the Glock he had taken off that punk from the hood, he still had 14 shots left. That plus the .380 he took off the smack head.

He hated vehicles like these. They looked so gay or as they said in his hood, Mas Puto! Still, it was not his ride so it would not be traced back to him. This was not your run-of-the-mill car for Ese's. Usually it was either to a black drug dealer's liking, a flamboyant and boastful rapper, or a wigger trying to be like either of the two. The difference between it however being that the hustler grinded for theirs all though it was blatantly obvious to a chota who bought vehicles like that and rappers had enough money to buy five of these things plus four Banshees on top of that.

Where as a wigger, was usually a lazy kid from the suburbs who despite coming from an affluent background, was an unemployed waste of oxygen copying what they perceived to be black culture on TV but instead of hustling or working, they either got money from their loaded parents or bummed it off their "Shorty's" credit card Ernesto had known of many wayward youth like this in Vinewood and it was no different out here.

The radio station came on and a news report sounded off. "Jenny Acorn with your Weazel News update. A 24/7 in the Greater 5th ward area was robbed tonight just off of Liberty Road at approximately 11:34 PM, four armed and masked men came into the store and robed the store clerk at gun point. The Sunbelt Police Department say the video surveillance disc was unaccounted for as the robbers removed them from the crime scene. In the resulting struggle, the store owner, Azam Sharawat, a 33 year old Pakistani immigrant who had just gotten his American citizenship was gunned down by the masked gunmen. In the ensuing violence, a customer named Berta Flanders, age 38 was also shot upon entering the store during the robbery."

As Ernesto heard the broadcast he looked at the clock on the radio, it was 1:20 AM. Damn! Those fools work fast! That was less than two hours ago and I wasn't too far from where that was!

"In the shooting, the clerk managed to shoot one of the gunmen with a legal firearm he kept behind the counter before he himself was gunned down. One of the suspects, however was knocked unconscious during the robbery. Police arrived on the scene and arrested the man who was identified as thirty seven year old Lloyd Flint, a felon from Gulf City, Texas, was arrested and charged with armed robbery and murder all though it is uncertain if he was one of the actual men to pull the trigger, he will likely be charged as an accessory to murder and armed robbery. The suspect in custody is said to be involved with a criminal organization notorious through the South East and the the greater Gulf of Mexico area known as the Cotton ball Mafia, an organized crime organization with roots in at least seven states. The Cotton Ball Mafia, not to be confused with the Italian Mafia, or any ethnic mafia groups, it said to be comprised mostly of southern white males and is involved in drug trafficking, fraud, burglary, robbery, murder, bribery, and illegal gambling."

This had piqued his interest. They had been big growing up. While the barrio was nothing to fuck with, he had heard about how many of their members that had also been contract killers had never been caught. "As he was arrested, with a cut on his head, Mr. Flint was quoted as saying 'I aint talking' and refused to make any further statements until he saw his lawyer. According to the widow of the late Mr. Sharawat, two suspects are still at large. Both were described as Caucasian males, one dressed in a confederate flag do-rag and the other with a hat with similar design who Mrs. Sharawat described as having a beard. The bearded man was described as being of about five foot ten in height while the other was at least six feet tall. The man shot in self defense by Mr. Sharawat was identified as Ethan Pulaski, another Cotton ball associate who had been arrested in 2010 for possession of methamphetamine. Here live with your convenience store Rob-And-Go update, Jenny Acorn, Weazel News."

Ernesto was grateful when the music came back on. The song Apocalypse by Mr. Shadow featuring Lil Rob played. He moved his head to the flow. It was one of the most raw songs and flows ever written and it sampled the horror music theme from the Halloween movies. He was about ten minutes away from where he needed to be. Normally, for a hit like this, he would take backup because there were going to be a shit load of them but maybe this way, the cops would never believe it was just one man to take down however many he would need to.

He didn't expect to die here. He had just gotten back to town and it would be fucked up but then that was la vida. It could happen. It was just a matter of if God was watching out for him. He pulled up on the street facing Richard's house. He saw a few corner boys posted up slinging white, as well as a few Balling Locs patrolling their block. He looked down at the Glock in his hand.

Meanwhile inside Richard's house, a few homies were kicking it, ashing blunt of some new Mexican brick weed and maxing in front of his big screen TV. They had just gotten done watching a Weazel news update on a robbery at a 24/7. One of Richard's homie, a Loc named Eddie changed the channel. Richard grinned and said, "Hey you know I got mad love for you dawg but who said you can take control of my remote, little nigga?"

Eddie insisted, "Just hear me out bro gotta show you something," He mashed a few buttons on the remote switch the TV to the music video channel and said, "This shit is too funny, bro. Hey, Luther you too, cuz!You aint even heard this nigga flow before."

He put on a song called Justin Bieber by Bizarre featuring King Gordy both of whom were abnormally sized African-American rappers. Richard nodded as the flow started and he said, "Oh yeah, that tubby mofucka was going hard for his city three one three, right?"

The other Balla, Luther a tall skinny black man, in purple and white track pants, a white wife beater underneath, and a gold and purple jacket over it said, "I never heard of either one of them."

Eddie pointed out, "Watch this nigga get off, I was dying when I first seen this!"

(Bizarre)

5 in the morning just popped a pill

London, Ontario, somebody 'bout to get killed
White boy lover, they say he's down with Usher
Duct tape a blade, I think it's time for supper
Nothin' aware, jumped on Canada air
An hour and a half, I'll be there
And do you think I can get a little boy pregnant?
(I'm 'bout to bust!) We'll find out in a second
Disrespected, treated like a slave
I'd be your school teacher, and you done misbehaved
Say goodbye to Ms. Bieber, cause you about to leave her
In back of your head, hit with a meat cleaver
Fuck you in the ass, then spit in your face
Cause I wanna see how Justin flesh tastes
Sodomize you, that's what I'm gonna do
Kill my 8 year old daughter, for listening to you

I fucking hate you Justin (Hate you)
I want to rape you Justin (In your ass)
Your albums are disgusting
Justin Bieber we're going to kill you
I wanna hurt you Justin
Put you in a little hearse young Justin
And fuck your fans in the ass till I'm cumming
Justin Bieber we're going to kill you

(King Gordy)

Now I never had a crash at a light with pedestrian
Never had sex with a man that looks quite like a lesbian
But, uh, then again, you are just a little boy, cinnamon
Flavored lip gloss he's so timid and he's giggling
Just like a little baby do, but I'mma give his ass dick for baby food
Got him wearing boy shorts and lady shoes
(Eh, Gordy you fucking Justin, maybe isn't that gay?)
Quit fronting, Justin's a woman and I don't see if that way
Justin don't got a dick, Justin's got a clit and likes to swallow piss
Justin's a white trailer park bitch that got a lot of kids
Stop calling this stupid bitch Justin, her name is Justine!
That slut sings to ages under 13 who love cream
Shot in their fucking mouths and lick their fucking butt clean
And pull a machete out and cut them 'til their guts leak
Trying to put my long ass peter in Bieber's beaver
The eat his little coochie 'til he squirts all over my sneakers

Both Ballas, Richard, and his homies who'd been out with him just about all day lost day their shit. "Damn that's colder than a motherfucker!" Hooted Luther. " I need to get in the rap game and turn the fuck up with some dope shit like that, loc! On tha whole set that was the funniest shit I've heard in a long time good look bruh." Luther said dapping up the slightly baked Eddie.

Just then they heard gunshots outside. Luther went to the window, his .45 drawn and demanded, "Who's out there busting slugs?" Just then his eyes widened and he yelled, "Oh, shit everybody get down!" He ran from the window and there was a very loud noise as an SUV tore through the wall of Richard's house.

Glass shattered and dry wall was obliterated as the vehicle smashed on through. A man was crushed under the wheels and drug a few feet with his crimson stains as the vehicle went in. There was also a guy on the hood of the vehicle, a bloodied body dressed in a purple and black striped T shirt, a white baseball cap and violet gym shorts.

The vehicle crashed into Richard's homie the man with the cornrows. The man was sent flying back against the wall into the hallway near his bedroom. The man's neck was broken as he landed wrong. The other hood nigga to be hit aside from the one on Ernesto's hood was Luther.

He sent the Balla flying back into the TV and sent his head through the glass and electricity buzzed as the man was electrocuted and sparks flew all over him, his body gyrating like a junkie bitch at a rave party on molly. His skin, especially the skin on his face was fried, peeling away the flesh.

Ernest fired coming out of the car squeezing off four shots, hitting Eddie in the stomach. The Balla went down in agony firing back at the Mexican gangster, missing as he fell. Ernesto growled, "Fucking lobsters..." With that, he shot the youngster in the side of his head, near his left ear, and his brains decorated the two story house's floor "Los Aztecas! Hasta la muerte!" He yelled.

He fired at Richard who had ducked into the hallway and was returning fire. "You stupid bitch! Come up in my fucking house? You got some nerve! Youse a fake!" Ernesto used the vehicle as cover as Richard's five rounds hit the bumper and the front windshield. "You shouldn't have fucked with me, panocha or my son. You earned your own death by doing that!"

Other dealers were trying to zone in on the crash sight and three other dealers joined in on the gunfight, two of which were local hood boys with no gang ties and the other was a female banger, a curly-haired mahogany woman wearing a gray pair of pants and a violet midriff top with gold hoop earrings and a silver crucifix. She had on a purple bandanna tied around her forehead like a head band and the shade of purple was almost dark blue. To the untrained eye it would have been hard to tell a difference.

The other two consisted of a black man wearing a silver jacket over a black T-shirt and gray jeans. He had his hair short but with designs in the back. The other was a Mexican man with curly hair and a beard and tan skin. He wore a dark red T-shirt, a dark blue windbreaker, and blue pants. They all fired at Ernesto as well, forcing him to open the back door of the SUV and the front, the back for cover from the attacking dealers and the front covering him against Richard. Ernesto got the .380 out and fired two shots back at them. "Stay the hell out of this!" He warned. "This doesn't concern you!"

One of the men shouted back, "A motherfucker thinks a house in the hood is a parking space it always concerns me, mexicano fuck!" Ernesto fired the .380 back and said, "It's your life, macho man! And it'll be your death! No skin off my ass!" Richard took a shot as Ernesto fired around the side with the Glock twice.

"Ahhh! This Barrio Rat just hit me! Son of a bitch! Hey somebody drop this punk for me! Whoever does it, I'll make you my business partner! On my mama!" Ernesto shouted back as Richard returned fire with one hand as he had taken a shot in the left wrist shouted, "Your mama's a bitch and so are you!"

This angered Richard who discharged seven rounds at the door and Ernesto folded into cover in the floor of the front seat halfway in and halfway out of the car. "Fuck you! Nobody bags on my mama! You're a bum! Niggas around here barely get by trying to eat and can't have shit, probably cause of you!"

Ernesto laughed and made way crawling around to the other side through the front seat as bullets went through the back windshield and up to the front whizzing above his head as the two hustlers and the female Baller opened fire on the Cavalcade. Ernesto rolled out of the right hand seat opening the door as cover. The man in the red shirt aimed for him but Ernesto already had him. He fired losing track of the shots from the .380 and he hit the man in his sternum just as the gun clicked empty.

Ernesto went back to the front of the vehicle to take cover as they fired at him. The female hit him with a round in the left side of the right leg but luckily it was a graze wound. "Fucking puta! Soon as I find who did that, I'm going to shove this gun up your ass!" The woman shouted at him as she reloaded. "By my count, you're dry on ammo, baby! You slid off a razor blade and landed in an alcohol river, cuzzin! You all alone!"

Ernesto spotted the corpse of the dead Balla in the track pants. He picked up his .45 and shouted back, "Lucky for me, I know how to swim, toots!" He fired taking aim at the female gangster's foot and put a hole in her right tennis shoe, she cried out in agony and fell as a second round from the pistol hit her in the left ankle. She fell over, her gun discharging. The male dealer in the silver yelled, "Jada! Shit, girl, you all right?" She cried out very loudly, "Just get that piece of shit! Motherfucker!"

The dealer came around, charging in, head full of steam. Ernesto fired two rounds into the man's chest, lucky enough to catch him with blind fire. The man held his chest in pain but kept going. Ernesto fired again and hit him in the solar plexus. The man started to collapse with blood in his mouth but even as he fell, he attempted to grab Ernesto who had come out of cover.

He grabbed for him with a bloody hand, eventually attempting to grab at Ernesto's shirt. Ernesto shoved him off and the man's bloody lip trembled as he tried to still resist. "Chingada! Why'd you have to do that, asshole? Now I got to rearrange your face!"

With those words, he took the meaning of the word which normally meant beating the shit out of somebody, to a new extreme as he fired shooting the dealer in the face. The round caught him in the left eye socket and part of the nose and his damaged eyeball hung out of his head as he hit the floor.

Ernesto then ran to the back of the bullet ridden and smoking SUV, Richard firing round after round after him each soaring behind almost hitting him. Ernesto got to the back and spotted the female who still had her gun but was wounded. He kicked the gun from her hand and took it, tossing the empty .380 in the back of the SUV through the broken windshield.

He pointed the .45 at her and Ernesto saw that the man in the red sweater was still alive just barely as he was writhing in agony and trying to crawl to safety. Ernesto fired a shot into the back of his head. "Nice try..." With that, he took the woman's Beretta in hand, and the .45 in the other and she backed up in fear, her back to the floor. "You even touch me...it's over for you."

Ernesto advanced on her as Richard reloaded again. "Eenie...meanie...miny...moe...catch a ...Lobster...by the toe...if she hollers..." He fired the last two rounds into her chest, the first hitting her in the sternum,the second hitting her in the left breast. "Let her go..."

With that done, he took her Beretta, which he counted had nine shots left. He fired four rounds, two hitting Richard in the back as Ernesto flanked him from the side just as he was trying to flank Ernesto by going around the back of the car just as he had. He went down in pain. Ernesto spotted that the drug dealer still had one homie left. He was the same guy who had talked Richard out of killing him before. "Come on, nigga cap this bitch! What you waiting on? I need a doctor, bro...I'm hit!"

Ernesto saw the guy reaching for one of the guns of the fallen and he fired a shot with one hand and shot off both his right thumb and index finger. The man shrieked in any as blood sprayed every direction as a result of the wound. He was now at Richard's side with the gun aimed at his back. "How it going Richie? Sorry to break this to ya Little Richard but the rock industry is going in a whole different direction."

Richard tried to shoot him as he still had his gun but Ernesto disabled and disarmed him firing one through his knuckles on his right hand. He opened his mouth closing his eyes and roared, "Ahhhhhhh!" His voice caught in his throat. He looked up at him and snarled, "Go ahead and kill me, partna. My homies will be checking that ass first thing in the morning. You think you can kill shoot up my crib, crash into it...shot a couple Ballas and get away with it...? Think again!"

Ernesto grinned, "That's what happens when you send boys to do a mans job. Then again you wouldn't know anything about that. If I'm a fake what does that make you? A wannabe has been that never was. Say goodnight, Richard!" He took the man's gun and pocketed it. He then walked up to the wounded guy. He aimed the woman's Beretta at his forehead. The guy begged, "Come on, bro! It's me! Sean Andrews! I told Richard to take it easy on you before! I had pity, dawg! I got a girlfriend, man, I got my whole life ahead of me!"

Ernesto nodded. "Orale, vato. I'm gonna cut you some slack cause you did before but just remember one thing, I am a South Side Azteca and I am a member of La Onda and I came in here and took your home boys out myself. So if I can take out this many bodies all by myself, just think what I'll do to you if you make me regret it. Just think what we could do to this shit hole if I bring back an army. Not just my varrio but all the varrios. Entiendes?"

The man was in pain but relieved, "I swear, man you'll never see my face again! I swear to god, dude. I'm the fuck out of town first chance I get," Ernesto said, "Good! One more thing. I want the keys to whatever it is you're driving. Don't try to act like you don't have a car, I know a dope peddler can get at least a bucket,"

The young man forked over the keys. "I also suggest you get out of here. I'd say take the front door but...well, the whole front is a big door," The man tried to reach for his thumb and finger but Ernesto stepped on his good hand. He squealed in pain. "The fuck was that for, man?!"

Ernesto said, "I didn't say I'm waiting for you to get a cup of ice for your fingers. Get out now or you can blow up with the house. Hell, if he's tough and lucky, maybe your boy Richard even survives with injuries. He'll probably be a cripple but at least he lives right? I'd start praying for him. Keep your fingers crossed. On your good hand that is."

The young man took off, his wound dripping all over the floor.

With that, he went outside of the house. Richard screamed, "You walk outta here, they're gonna erase your sorry ass! You're nothing but street grease, you hear me?! Street grease you motherfucker!" Ernesto turned back to him and looked at the fallen wounded dealer from outside. "Is that gasoline I smell?" Richard actually showed fear and began to beg, "No man! Don't!" He began to try to crawl further into the hallway to get away. He tried to get up on his feet and limp to safety.

Ernesto grinned as he got a safe distance. He fired three shots at the gas tank and the car lit up like a Christmas tree, exploding in a deafening blast, the flames catching more of his house on fire. Richard's back was on fire and he screamed in pain as the skin on his back and shoulders, arms and face burned.

He ran, despite his current injuries and threw himself through the window of his bedroom getting outside as the house was covered in smoke and flames. He tried rolling on the ground to put the fire out but he also had cut himself on the glass as he got out the window. The dealer who had warned Richard not to fuck with Ernesto had been wearing a brown jacket. He took it off and tried to smother the flames on Richard. It worked but the damage was done. He was barely recognizable. Ernesto tossed all his empty and used up guns he'd taken in the fights into the house with the fire.

While he knew that the forensics teams could still tell what happened even in fires, throwing the guns in the fire got rid of any chance of them finding finger prints. He spotted the young drug dealers car, a purple Felon. He got in and started the car, grinning, "Guess the Ballas aren't the only ones who like the color purple."

With that, he took off down the street. A few of them appeared with guns drawn from the projects across the street. "Hey, what up coz? LTL hood! You Barrio Rats aint from around here! L's up A's down!" The hood rats yelled as they started shooting at the back of the car, a round from one Balling Loc hit the back passenger window.

Ernesto, who still had the Glock 40, discharged a few rounds out the window at them to send them scurrying for cover. He sped up and finally after firing a few more at his bumper and the back windshield, the local Ballas set gave up on the chase but he could tell they were pissed and would likely be looking for revenge.

He got away and as he rode through the late night streets of Sunbelt he made a call, "Oye, Flaco, I swear, hermano, I'm gonna get a motel or something first thing tomorrow but I'm fucking beat carnal. Some more shit happened. You got a place I can crash just for tonight?"

Flaco said, "Si mon, my ruca is over in Gulf City visiting her jefita and has the kids with her so its just us tonight. Yeah, come on over, bro. Take a load off tell me what happened. We got barbecue here. I know you haven't been out in San Andreas to appreciate grilled chicken, hot dogs, hamburgers and BBQ robs did you? Unless you went all vegan on me out there. Did you?"

Ernesto sighed with exhaustion saying, "I'm just glad my ribs didn't get barbecued tonight! I'll fill you in when I get there. See you soon and gracias hermano," Flaco told him, "De nada, homie. It's what we do. We're familia, ya?"

Ernesto remembered Flaco had always had his back. "Siempre! Por Vida! See you in a little bit, perro!"

Even Later That Night...

Ernesto had drank a few more beers and was glad to see the barrio having a good time as they were all there to eat and jam to music. His son was going to be coming over there too, it was past 1am. Ernesto had been getting to know a lot of the younger homies seeing what they were about. There was one younger vato of about 20 years named Puma. He had thick black hair and a turquoise bandanna wrapped around his forehead. Over that he wore a blue and black plaid checkered pendleton shirt and black khakis. He was of Mayan ancestry yet in some aspects because of his sad looking eyes, and his warrior glare, he looked like the fiercest Apache. Then again, every tribe had their warriors. His name was El Puma.

The cholo who had just gotten his head shaved was a young man named Jose Alfonso. The homies called him Snapper. He was Miguel's friend too. "Yeah, your son's been putting in work, ese! He's been down for the town for a while. He hammered a lot of those punks from the Families. Ballas, too! Trying to make a noise for Sunbelt that they can hear all the way in East Los Santos!"

Puma slapped hands with him and said, "Si mon que si. Those Ball Sack Lobster fucks and those other chanates, those Grave Street jotos are getting fired out of Sunbelt. Out of the state even if possible!"

Flaco took a bite off a pork rib. "Why settle for that? I say out of the country. Shit, they're trying to give us the boot like we're some parasites or something. I know every time one of us gets deported from our own state, they cheer as loud as they would at a football game,"

He then added, "They'd love that shit. They'd do it all over the country if they could. Then it'd just be them and the gringos to fight over something that's not rightfully theirs. That's why they try and call us what we're not. Latin, Hispanic. Because admitting we're indigenous would be an admission that what they do to us is wrong. La Onda has been fighting back for La Raza long before we ever had any laws in place that would. I hope you're listening to what I'm telling you. You pee wees need to know not only your cultural history but that of your gang. That's as much a part of yo u as the sangre in your veins And too many young vatos don't know dick about what being an Azteca is about. They think it's all about the money."

Snapper shrugged, "Well it aint everything but on these streets, it is half the battle! No feria means no AK's. No AK's means these chavalas from other cliquas could roll all over us. I wish it was like you said it used to to be back in the 60's and 70's. I'm not saying I can't square up cause you know I can but even to do that I gotta carry a cuete, because you never know if one of these panochas doesn't like to lose a fist fight and decides to try and shoot me? I gotta do what I gotta do."

Puma nodded at what Flaco said. "I hear you, El mero. I get what you mean. We gotta do both but we gotta mend old school with new school. Moderation, right? I mean Jose's right but if it's only about money that really leaves no room for carnalismo does it?

"Plus those Spanish Lord Putos and the Maniac Latin Apostles still go by Latino ancestry and don't even acknowledge their Aztec, Taino, Carib, Yaqui, heritage ashamed to be who they are," Said Snapper.

Puma shrugged. "Maybe they go by both? Saying Latinos are Indio? It's true you know. We are," Flaco shook his head, "Yeah but that's not an identity we ourselves picked out. So if I have ten percent Spanish blood or because I speak the language I'm a fucking Hispanic? Chale, puto! Puro Indio and proud of it. Y tu, Sadie You know what I mean?"

A pretty curvy chola nodded. "Si mon. Nican Tlaca,"

Snapper just said, "Yeah, I got no respect for Soul Nation or Kin. Their Raza gangs are a joke. They know goddamn well it ain't representatives from their cliquas who have the real sway. It's gangs like the Ebony Stones and the Royals. Those are the ones that have the clout in the Soul Nation. Same goes for the Kin! You think the representatives from MLA or the Raza Warriors run shit in the prisons in Carcer? Chales. Before Kin or Soul existed the gangs in the alliances hated each other while also smashing on gangs from the other side."

The rowdy youth took a hit off the recently rolled joint he had pinched between his index and thumb. He blew smoke soon after and said, "All I'm saying is, fuck a peace treaty if it means bowing down to the interests and politics of another gang, que no? That'd be like us being in an alliance with Ballas and Groves and let them dictate what we do. Over my dead body!"

Flaco nodded. "Okay, tranquile, carnalito. You've stated your piece and I heard you. We'll get to the work later all right? It's always work before play but right now? It's relaxation time so have a cold one and chill the fuck out!"

Ernesto finished his beer. "Another one, jefe?" Offered a chola named Mousy. She was a girl who was both petite yet somehow curvy which was rare if not almost impossible. She was a Chicana woman either around Miguel's age or near there. She had light brown skin, deep soulful pretty brown eyes that were big and round, and she had almond colored hair. She was as down for the hood as the vatos, he had heard. He was glad there was more female gangsters nowadays.

"No thanks, mija but gracias," Ernesto said genuinely. "I'm gonna keep it strictly soda. I just needed a few pistos to unwind but I'm not looking to get fucked up tonight," He said cracking open a can of Sprunk from the cooler and taking a sip.

She nodded and said, "Orale, Ernesto. Welcome home. We've heard nothing but good things. You're still a legend around here."

He smiled and started to say something back but Miguel had pulled up and said, "Hey, pop! I brought you a surprise, homes! Look who I found?" Miguel felt his heart skip a beat and then warmth. It was his daughter. He rushed forth to hug her, she was still as beautiful as ever but when she was a kid she'd just been his little girl. She was deep brown, and had long wavy black hair and similar eyes to Mousy but a bit lighter, having a bit of a hazel tint to them. "Papa! Como estas?" He smothered her with kisses.

"Ahahaha! My baby girl! You grew up what happened? Carmen, it's been way too long," She hugged him again and said, "I'm happy you're home. Have you talked to mami yet?" He shook his head. "Looking to avoid that as long as I can. I knew my baby girl was doing well on her own all independent taking on America but I'm overwhelmed! Look at you, looking like an Aztec princess! At least you got one thing from your mother she was good at she knew how to look classy,"

She was dressed in a fancy brown jacket and a black skirt. The brown jacket went over a red blouse.

She kissed her father on the cheek back and said, "So do you, dad. You know that! Just in a different way. I can't be wearing plaid, khakis, and beanies like this loser," She said nodding to Miguel. "I'm not a boy," Miguel flipped her off saying, "Fuck you, Carmen ya fucking square."

She smiled saying, "oooh what a nice comeback, Miguel. The 60's called and they want their insults back," She tuned back to her father. "Anyway, you look pretty tired. You sure you can hang in there? If you want, you can turn in and I'll see you in the morning maybe you, me and bone head over there can get breakfast?"

He was tired but he had been gone a long time and sleep was not too urgent for him to spend time with his familia. He took a bite off the piece of the lukewarm rib he had. "No, I'm okay. We'll hang out for a bit you and I we got a lot of catching up to do."

She beamed, "Bueno!" With that they walked back to the table to get her something to eat.

I maybe tired but this is mi familia. What's left of it with Luis dead and the rest moved away. I'm gonna spend time with both of my babies if it kills me. Besides, this is good grub and I can earn my sleep for later. At least this is a better way to end a long day. He thought.


NATIVE GUNZ 13: All right that's about it on my end. So just so everybody knows that song Justin Bieber is a real song by those artists I highly recommend checking that one out I've been cracking up now see, Stelm what you asked me before about mainstream rapers and black rappers and all that mierda, well one group i will always like is D12 and Bizarre is their funniest member. And to think they were Eminem's friends from his youth? I actually got Afro listening to that group he already knew about Eminem but I had him borrow my D12 Devils Night CD (2001)which is highly under rated some years back and the rest was history! It's a good album.

As for the line about "I can't make money probably cause of people like you" was what an actual Texan said to me once so I figured I'd incorporate that in here.

The song Apocalypse by Mr. Shadow & Lil Rob is another firme track if anybody likes underground rap, then check that out. Also, thanks to Stelm for being thee one to post the chapters and stories and also, if you wanted to use a different person than Jenny Acorn from GTA IV Go ahead and edit that I just used that cause it's what I remembered.

Oh and for those who don't know pisto is Cholo slang for a drink. Usually hard liquor but can also be used as a general term for beer. As far Cerveza Barrachos, they are a GTA V spoof on El Corona.

The Maniac Latin Apostles are based n the Folk Nation's MLD's and the Raza Warriors is based on La Raza, a Folk gang with the Mexican flag's colors as their bandannas colors. Also, the Ebony Stones are based on the Black P Stone, a People Nation gang from Chicago AKA Carcer City (You should all check out Afro Spirit's story Carcer City he did a good job wish he'd continue.) and the Royals are based on the Vice Lords.

What Snapper was saying about Kin and Soul nation gangs is what many Surenos say about them mainly because the Folk nation and People nation gangs in Chicago like to bad mouth us cause we don't do things the way they do even though our cliwua was around longer. Like the "Latin" Kings, only go back as far as the 40's.

The Surenos go back to the 20's! Well, individual cliquas/varrios that are now considered Surenos but still exist under the same independant hood name they always have the oldest being White Fence (Famous for defending us in the racist attacks by sailors during the Zoot Suit Riots of 43)
but other gangs like Maravilla, Big Hazard, Tokerstown, trace their back to the 30's and 40's Big Hazard is probably the 2nd oldest LA gang.

As for the Cotton Ball Mafia they are based on the Dixie Mafia and aside from the name difference I did pretty much break down what they're about. Yeah anyway, read and review people!

Native Guns 13