A/N: Alright, fine—its taking a little longer than I thought, but no worries. For those of you who were able to stomach my fic this far (its slow even for me), I can tell you now that things are going to get pretty damn ugly for our boy Riley in the coming chapters. Actually, I'm kinda excited—but I digress. Don't own Boondocks. More language, more swearing. Reviews and continued support are appreciated.

Huey was on the computer when his little brother burst through their bedroom door. He rushed over to him and started scrambling over the computer desk.

"Ay, ay, AY!" Huey called out as Riley fumbled over him. "What the hell are you lookin' for all over my desk without even excusin' yo'self? Nigga back up!" Huey scolded as he pushed back on his brother's chest.

"Move Huey, I'm tryin'ta find A Pimp Named Slickback's number!"

Huey frowned. "Him? Wutchu need his number for?"

"So Thugnificent can get some of his hoes for the T.V. show he's recordin', now come on Huey, I ain't got that much time!"

"Calm down!" I've got his number here," said Huey as he pulled open a small drawer on the desk. Holding it in front of Riley, he snatched the ornate business card backward as his brother reached for it.

"Now give me one damn good reason I should even give you this. I thought you were going to tell him the truth." Huey said accusingly.

"Nigga I did!"

"So what did Thugnificent say?"

"He said he was countin' on me bringin' hoes like I told you and he'll be jacked-up if I can't get some like I said I would!" Riley huffed.

"Well you know what, that's on him" said Huey watching the card as he rolled it in his fingers. "I've made up my mind and it's time I stepped in. That grown-ass man is jus g'wn be shit outta luck cause you can't do it. Yo job is done."

"What??" Came Riley's shocked return. "Nigga you can't just decide fa'me what's done and what ain't!"

"Riley I can and I just did. I may not be able to tell Thugnificent what to do, but to you my younger brother, I most certainly can."

Riley was struck speechless for a second. Huey was actually pulling rank on him, and for an instant, Riley felt echo of rage pulse through him. Was he going to have to fight his older and decidedly more skilled brother for an f-ing telephone number? It seemed so, and he was prepared to, but suddenly thought better of it—toe-to-toe, he knew he was no match for Huey. But whatever. His brother wasn't the only one who had A Pimp Named Slickback's contact number.

"Fuck you Huey." Riley spat. "I ain't gunna forget this shit." He cut him one last incensed glare before storming out. The older Freeman boy stared long at the door his brother had so angrily slammed shut. After a moment he let his eyes wonder to the floor, then finally to the card in his hand. It would have been a lie to say he was unmoved by the remark. Out of all the fights and disagreements they had had over the years, Riley had never cursed him like that before and it upset him. He turned back around to face the monitor, returning the business card to its pervious resting place as he did. Maybe he should've given him the number? No—he was right not to do it. How could he ever make a lasting impression on his younger brother if he didn't stand by his decisions? Still though, fuck him? That was a bit much, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized how much it hurt.

Grandad had the number he knew, but the man wasn't home and Riley sure enough wasn't about to go sifting through his grandfather's effects just to find it. He glanced at the clock on the wall before leaving—2:41.

'Ding dong!' It was the ever-generic sound of the Dubois' front doorbell.

"Who is it?" Came the unmistakably girlish voice of the Dubois child.

"Jazmine, it's Riley—open up!"

The door cracked open only enough for the green-eyed mulatto girl to slip through. Her hair was different today, pulled back into one giant pony-fro instead of the usual twin puffs that would flank either side of her head.

"What's up?" The girl asked.

"Jazmine, I need ta talk to yo dad fo'a minute."

She blinked at him for a second. "Sure I can get him…did you get in trouble or something?"

"Its grown-folk business, so jus getcho pops fa'me so I can get outta here." Riley returned shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Ok. DAAAAADDDDDDDDDIIIIEEEEEEE!!!! RILEY FREEMAN WANTS TO TALK TO YOUUUUU!!!!"

As soon as he thought it was safe, Riley opened back his eyes and uncovered his ears. "Girl, are you out yo damn mind?! Wutchu yellin' my name out like that fo?? People might be listenin!" He chided the loudmouthed girl while looking around to make sure no one of immediate importance had noticed. Just then Thomas Dubois opened wide the door and stepped beside his daughter.

"Oh hi Riley! Nice day we're having. What can I do for you?" Tom inquired in his typical Ned Flanders fashion.

"Mr. Dubois? I need to speak to you in private." The boy said with controlled authority.

"Well, alright Riley, I don't see why not." Mr. Dubois then looked to Jazmine. "Jazmine sweetie, could you go inside for me so Riley and I can talk for a bit?"

Jazmine smiled sweetly at the request. "Sure thing daddy!" With that, she disappeared back into the house.

"Now, what's up?" The man asked with a smile.

"I need A Pimp Named Slickback's number." Riley said getting straight to the point.

Tom raised his eyebrows. "What for?"

"Cuz I need it." Riley replied, his face wrapped in sarcasm. Seriously, did everybody have to question everything?

Mr. Dubois gave a chuckle. "Okay Riley, I'll get it. Just wait here."

Finally he was getting somewhere.

"Man, where the fuck is that little bitch?" Thugnificent grumbled darkly as he sat on the couch in front of his mural. It was already after three and there had been no word from Riley at all. The other members of Lethal Interjection sat stoically about Thugnificent as they waited for the boy's return. Thugnificent's face was ablaze with disproval.

"I don't get it. I let him into my house, let him hang around my crib, put up with his bitch-ass grandpa, and let him be apart of my entourage." The man fumed while absently messaging the rings on his fingers. "And what does he do? Lets his punk ass get the chain I personally gave him took, kept that fact a secret, then let Flownominal get cracked upside the kneecap an' left'em there rollin in the damn dirt when he helped him get it back! It's all good though, I let that shit slide, but then da bitch go an' lie about the heifers he told me he was gunna get here!" Flownominal and Macktastic looked nervously to each other before training back their eyes to their more than displeased leader. "You know he came in here this afternoon at two fuckin' thurdy and told me all the bitches backed out? What the hell kinda shit is that?! How all dem gunna skip out on me?? Humph. So he goes on'ta tell me he knows some pimp he can get hoes from--hoes I hafta pay for--but that was thurdy minutes ago. I tell ya what, if there ain't no bitches here when that T.V. crew get to rollin, that lil bitch g'wn wish he ain't never even hearda my ass!"

A long and tense pause hung in the room before Flownominal dared to break it's silence. "Well, maybe he jus ain't got back yet?" The man offered in Riley's defense. Thugnificent slowly drug his eyes to his cohort. "Nigga shut yo bald-ass up. He fuckin' knew what was goin' on so he shoulda been here by now!"

"But Nificent, he's jus a kid—maybe he couldn't do it?" The fair faced Macktastic rejoined in defense of the child.

"Well then that lil shit shoulda thought about that before he put his ass out there! He wanted to be in my entourage, he accepted the induction so he'll accept the consequences of fuckin' up! His shit went bad with me at three o'clock when he wasn't here with no call and no GODDAMN WOMEN!"

The other two men made no attempt to hide the worry on their faces as Thugnificent became more and more heated. "Nificent be easy dog!" Flownominal said trying to pacify the increasingly unstable man.

Thugnificent wasted no time in crossing the space between he and Flownominal. "NIGGA DON'T TELL ME--"

'Ding dong'! Thugnificent was cut off by sound of his doorbell. Pulled away from the possible beating he was about to give his lackey, the gangsta-rapper instead headed for the front.

"I tell ya that better be that lil muthafucka on the other side'uh that door wit mad bitches or his ass is done." The man muttered under his breath as he went to answer his door.

"Good afternoon Thugnificent," said a short white man in a white shirt and blue baseball cap. Behind him were two other crew men with two more unloading equipment from a van in the roundabout. "We're here to set up for recording. It shouldn't take too long, bout twenty minutes or so. If we can come in we'll get started."

Thugificent flashed the man a platinum-filled grin as he stepped aside for the crew's entry. As the other crewmen brought in various black trunks, Thugnificent peered out into the street. No sign of Riley.

No matter what, that little bitch was in for it now.