Warnings- Gratuitous use of bad ebonics, foul language, and yaoi.
G Boyz in Da Hood
By Kim
It was a lovely afternoon in South Central. South Central where you ask? Well, that's not really important, let's just say it was the southern part of the center section of a large urban area. The sun was actually showing through the intense smog cover, the hookers on the corner sang their mating calls, and driving through the midst of it all was a low rider black Gremlin, a green scythe spraypainted on the hood, bearing the license plate "SHNIGMI." The souped up sub woofers of the small car reverberated with the bass from the classic Just Got Paid, and the driver of the car blissfully sang along as he headed from his job at the drive through liquor store to his crib in one of the cooler sections of South Central, from now on to be referred as SC.
It was indeed a Friday afternoon, and one Duo Maxwell, proud member of the infamous G Boyz, was damn happy the posse would be going out that evening. The violet eyed boy banged a U-B across the median of the interstate to avoid having to pay the toll, popped the car over a ditch, and was soon in the confines of the trailer park that constituted home base. With a final wail of "Gonna have me a fuckin' good time!"the Gremlin pulled into the drive of a doublewide trailer. He burst out of the car, braid trailing behind him, and almost tripped over his untied Pumas. After recovering from that and pulling his Karl Kani jeans up a little more so that the bottoms of his boxers weren't showing, Duo grabbed a parcel from the passenger seat and went scuttling into his house. The parcel? A brown paper bag filled with booze from the job.
"Yo Heero!! Whadup foo?" Duo shouted to his housemate and gang leader. He almost pissed his pants when he felt a gun press against his head from behind and the saftey be clicked off. "AHHHHH!!!!" A maniacal laugh split the air, and Duo turned around to find Heero laughing his ass off, all the while cuddling a new piece. "What da fuck was dat for man?!"
"Ain't she pretty?" was all Heero managed to say before he was once again stroking the gun and murmuring sweet nothings about it's calibre.
"Fuck dat, why we be needin' anotha gun? It ain't like you don't got none. And you don't need to be so damn triflin' and scare me like dat foo!"
"A gang can always be needin' another gun. I hear dat those Ozzie club scum are gonna be at da openin' a Sally's new joint. Round up da posse, we's goin' out tonight."
"Whoa, we's crashin' da openin' a Fetish? Sally is gonna tear you a new asshole if you fuck up her new club. Specially since it was you who blew up da last one and all."
"I assure you Sally'll be rollin' over like a bitch in heat, so need to worry about her."
Duo looked at his leader, and had to admit that yeah, she probably would, considering even in a pair of JNCO shorts and a wifebeater Heero was absolutely fuckable. Although there was that off chance she's get really pissed and break out her own gun collection, which rivaled the entire G Boyz collection, and pop a bunch a caps in their sorry asses. With a grin, Duo realized that night was going to be anything but boring.
"Shit dis is gonna be a slammin' night! Lemme go holla up T and Q yo." Duo ran out the front door of the trailer, screaming out at the trailer across the street.
"YO T!!! YO Q!!!! QUIT GETTIN' YO SWERVE ON AND GET YO ASSES OVA HERE!!!!"
Across the street, from the trailer next to the trailer across the street, a girl with frizzy curly hair walked out her front door, raised her paintball gun, and took aim. As Duo turned around, she plugged a bright orange paintball across his ass. He turned around, flipped her off, and marched inside rubbing his butt.
"GODDAMMIT!!!! KEEP THE FUCKING NOISE DOWN!!!!!!!" The girl went back in her trailer, wondering what god she had pissed off to end up living situated right by a gang full of loud mouthed sex addicts.
Meanwhile, across SC, in a large studio flat, a tall man with long platinum hair stood naked before a mirror. He turned and picked up a pair of neon yellow vinyl pants, hold them before him in the mirror. He wrinkled his nose, threw the behind him, and picked up a pair of silver hot pants. These were met with the same disgust and the man tossed his hair over in shoulder in annoyance, when he caught sight of a pair of dark blue vinyl pants with a lot of unnecessary zippers. He grabbed them up, a bottle of baby oil, and went about sliding himself in them. 10 minutes later the almost tattooed on pants were on, and now it was time to acessorize and primp for the evening ahead. Zechs Merquise, THE club kid of SC, was going to the opening of Sally Po's new go go club, Fetish, and he had to make sure he looked divine.
In the same flat, a tall ginger headed man wearing a pair of ripped jeans and an old Ozzy Osbourne concert t shirt sat surrounded by a pile of music equipment. Various turn tables, microphones, stereos, amps, and records lay strewn about the living room as the man checked everything he would be needing that evening. Treize Khushrenada, leader of the Ozzies, aka DJ TreyZ, would be DJing the opening of Fetish, since he was THE DJ of SC, and he needed to perform just divinely.
In another bedroom of the flat, a brown haired woman wearing a black leather catsuit sat cleaning guns, and loading clips, and sharpening knives, and all that merry good stuff. Lady Une was THE scary chick of SC and the muscle of the Ozzies, and she needed to be more prepared than God.
In the broom closet of an apartment beneath the flat, a black haired woman sat staring at her life sized poster of Zechs Merquise, little stars and birdies flying around her head. Decked out in the latest in Country Western apparel, Noin sat getting ready and obsessing about her beloved. Tonight was the night he would be hers, for she had managed to snag a pass to the opening of Fetish.
In the much nicer apartment across from the broom closet, a woman with brownish red hair complained to her boytoy about not being able to go to Fetish's opening, and then mumbled something about red headed German assassins.
Across SC, Sally Po sat talking to her two girls in preparation for Fetish's opening. Catherine and Dorothy were the star performers, and were being warned about the potential for conflict between da G Boyz and da Ozzies.
"Like Sally, yo, you forget dat T be my baby bro, and I ain't lettin' no one hit my baby bro," Catherine warned as she cleaned her fingernails with one of her knives.
"And Treize be my cousin, and nobody but nobody messes wit ma cuz but me," Dorothy warned as she buckled another buckle of her unsual show outfit.
" I know, ya foos, k? I can't just not let them come, I mean, da G Boyz and da Ozzies be da best lookin' guys in all a SC, and I need dat kinda ass for da club. Just try to keep em in line dis time?"
"Fine, fine, Sally" both the girls whined.
And lastly, in the sleazy cheap part of SC where none of the previously introduced characters would be seen dead, a cheesy rotten crack dealer/pimp and his two not so fine hos prepared to crash the happening shindig going down at Fetish.
What will happen on this fated evening? Well, dat's sumpin' ya bunch a jibba jabba foos gots to find out, wheneva I's gets to writin' it.
TBC
