The Moolie.

Where you can post anything you are working on, short stories, articles, fiction etc.

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Soapy
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Post by Soapy » 11 Mar 2019, 20:49

djp73 wrote:
11 Mar 2019, 17:00
Soapy wrote:
11 Mar 2019, 12:29
djp73 wrote:
04 Mar 2019, 15:40
he a made man now
if it isn't obvious, donte is half-black. you aint never seen goodfellas slime? ;)
I'd picked up on that, and yes.
same situation as Henry and Jimmy then slime vis a vis being a made man.

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Post by Soapy » 18 Mar 2019, 12:26

"Make sure you guys put some extra cheese on this man's order."

Donte cracked a smile before extending his arm out over the counter and shaking the man's hand, "I'm really sorry about, sir."

"It's all in the past," the middle aged man laughed, proud of himself for his call-back joke.

Donte let him keep the change -- about $5 worth -- before walking towards his booth. Miles had gotten there earlier and was already digging into his sandwich. No complaints on his part about the lack of cheese.

"It's not going to grow legs and walk out of here," Donte grimaced as he took a seat.

Miles looked up, put the sandwich and wiped the side of his mouth, "I'm fucking starving, clearly. Been up since yesterday morning, I'm so tired yet hungry yet I can't even go home right now."

"Busy night?"

"We had some business to take care of on Rivers Road," Miles explained, "Didn't get home until 3 in the morning, went to visit my favorite freak and next thing I knew it was six o'clock and the little rascals was coming to pick up their drops. Been running in and out, up and down all morning so this little visit right here is a lifesaver."

"The business on Rivers Road," Donte turned around to make sure no one was behind him, "Going to see it on the news?"

"No," Miles laughed, "That's why it's called Dead Mans Road."

"Just make sure mans don't show up pon mi road," Donte said in an exaggerated Jamaican accent, drawing a laugh out of Miles.

"Here's your order," said a young girl that brought over Donte's sandwich and his drink.

"Thanks," Donte said as the girl tried to quickly walk away. He grabbed her arm which startled her, "Relax, just take this."

Donte slipped a few dollar bills into her pocket as she tried to avoid making eye contact while nodding her head.

"I don't get my food delivered to me," Miles said in protest as she girl walked back towards the cashier area.

"Delivered? It's a few feet away."

"Still!"

"Focus," Donte smiled, "How's business?"

"It ain't bad," Miles shrugged, "There's a lot more to it than I thought but it's well worth having one less piece of the pie taken away from me."

"What does 'ain't bad' mean? I'm talking raw numbers, here."

"You're name not Sam and you sure ain't my uncle," Miles said defensively, "It's good, I might pocket a grand or two a week after I'm done paying off a dead man's debt."

"It's y'all debt," Donte corrected him, "Speaking of, how much would it take to make you whole?"

"About 20," Miles swayed his head from side to side as he tried to do the math, "Bernard knocked it down quite a bit before he got slept and I did too, the rest of the money came from the runner's pay. They weren't too happy but fuck they going to do, call the labor office? Only did that for a few weeks though, now I just take it out of my end."

"If you were whole," Donte took a bite of his sandwich, "How much more money would you be pocketing a week?"

"Probably four or five."

Donte reached into his pocket and brought out a manila envelope that was struggling to stay intact and not bust open.

"It's about 28 grand in there," Donte looked directly into Miles' eyes.

"You're for real?"

"It's an investment," Donte nodded, "I don't do percentages. Two thousand dollars a week."

"Until?"

"Until forever," Donte scoffed.

"Fuck out of here," Miles slid the money back across the table, "Two bands until the debt is repaid and I'll give you back an extra ten on top of that for interest."

"Enjoy your sandwich," Donte took a big bite out of what was left of his sandwich and grabbed the envelope as he started getting up.

"Whoa," Miles put his hands up, "This is a negotiation."

"This isn't a loan," Donte said with emphasis, "It's an investment. You're not looking for one right now, cool."

"Sit down," Miles said, "Please. How about 1.5?"

"Two."

"1.75?"

"Two."

"Don't fuck my mother please," Miles wiped his hands, "You've got yourself a deal. You're a real fucker, you know?"

"Can't make any promises," Donte sat back down and took one of Miles' chips.

"I thought you I-talians didn't do this shit."

"This is my mamma side sitting here right now."
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Post by Caesar » 21 Mar 2019, 00:39

How you not going to include not smashing folk mom in there?

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Post by Soapy » 24 Mar 2019, 11:55

Caesar wrote:
21 Mar 2019, 00:39
How you not going to include not smashing folk mom in there?
she was smashing him.

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Post by Soapy » 24 Mar 2019, 12:39

"The meat is overpowering," Robbie pushed the plate of food away from him as he sat back, placing his hands atop his now full stomach.

"What do you mean it's overpowering?" Ronny asked with a puzzled look on his face, "You ate the whole fucking thing without complaint."

"It's too much meat," Robbie shrugged, "I don't know what you want me to tell you."

"It's good," Donte interjected, "The bacon really brings it home, Ronny."

"Thank you," he scoffed, "At least some appreciates me around here."

"Where the fuck is he?" Charlie said as he got up from the couch and started to walk around.

Right on queue, the door handle jiggled before the door swung open and in came Bobby, wiping the snow off of his jacket and directly onto the living room floor.

"Good thing I didn't bring y'all food," Bobby started sniffing around as he made his way through the kitchen, "Way too much meat in that sauce though."

"See, I told you!"

"How can you tell?" Ronny asked, "You haven't even tasted it."

"I'm guessing you didn't come here to discuss Ronny's meat choices," Charlie said flatly.

"Got somewhere to be, champ?"

"I do," Charlie replied.

"Tell them you're going to be late then," Bobby shot right back, prompting Charlie to take a seat.

"I have a job for you boys," Bobby plopped himself down on one of the empty sofa chairs, "Well, it's from Little Al. I guess he's finally noticed your potential."

"About damn time," Robbie muttered.

"First thing first," Bobby sat up, "All this little side comment shit and all the little fucking 'me, me, me, me' shit is ending right fucking now. I treat you boys like my kids but it's time to drop that entire fucking act and become grown fucking men. You understand me?!"

"Yes, sir." they all said, a bit shocked by Bobby's unexpected outburst.

"It's in Vermont," Bobby started his spiel, "Little Al has already set it up, it just need someone to take the ball from the goal-line into the end zone. There is a bank in Island Pond, a bit up the road from Montpelier. It's a quit, shitty little town but it happens to have a decent sized bank and someone we have on the side that can make it work."

"Thought we didn't do banks," Donte commented but all he got from Bobby was a side-eye.

"You're going to meet our men on the inside there on the third, hang around the city for a minute but not too much, don't stand out. On the fourth, they will go through a dry run with the plan. On the fifth, you guys are going to hit the joint for all it's got and they'll be on their way to Canada while you boys bring the bacon back home."

"What's the plan?" Donte asked.

"I don't know," Bobby explained, "We don't know, they do."

"How much money are we talking?" Donte kept firing away questions.

"Anywhere from two to four million," Bobby answered.

"What's the split?" Donte kept on his inquisition while the rest of the room was silent.

"70/30," Bobby said just loud enough for the crew to hear.

"No fucking way," Donte got up and let out a chuckle, "You have to be bullshitting me, uncle Bobby."

"It's still 30 fucking percent of four million!"

"It's two to four million," Donte corrected him, "It could be two which is just six hundred grand and by the time it gets to us, we're looking at what, maybe 100 grand to split between the three of us?"

"When I found you," Bobby got up as well, "You had never even fucking seen a grand so calm your fucking act right about now and humble yourself, kid."

"The third of next month?" Charlie asked.

"You have plenty of time," Bobby nodded.

"To do what? We don't even fucking know the plan so it might as well be tomorrow," Donte snapped at Bobby before turning around and walking towards his room.

"Come the third you're in that fucking car I gave you and driving to fucking Vermont! And that's fucking it, understand me?"

Donte ignored him as he made his way through the hallway. Harping back to his high school days, Bobby took off in a dead sprint like a fullback going down hill on an iso dive. He caught Donte by surprised, grabbed him by the back of his neck and slammed him face first onto the nearby wall.

Charlie tried to intervene but Ronny and Robbie held him back.

"Don't you ever turn your fucking back on me!" Bobby screamed into Donte's ear as he kept slamming his head up against the wall, "Come the third, you're in that fucking to car to Vermont!"

Bobby slammed Donte on the wall a few times before pulling him away and slinging him to the floor. Donte stumbled around but eventually regained his balance as blood continued to leak from his nose and above his eye.

"Yes, massa."

Bobby kept huffing and puffing before slowly backing away and out the door he went.

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Post by Soapy » 01 Apr 2019, 12:36

"Mom! Dad!"

"What?!" yelled a voice from inside the house that Donte recognized but wouldn't describe as familiar.

"Donte is here," the girl never broke eye contact with Donte as she still hadn't opened the door completely.

"Go on," Bobby swung the door open, sending her on her way. Donte forced a smile towards Andrea, Bobby's youngest, but she simply walked away.

"Here's what you asked for," Donte handed over the box of frozen veal that he had just acquired after their most recent job.

"Perfect," Bobby smiled as he grabbed the box. Donte turned around to walk back towards his car but Bobby called for him.

"Where are you going? We're about to have dinner, come eat."

Donte slowly walked into the house, the same house he sat through many awkward dinners for and figured another couldn't hurt. Dominique stepped out the kitchen and exchanged a harsh look with Donte before pulling her husband to the side.

"I didn't cook have enough food for another mouth," Dominique said just loud enough to make sure that Donte could overhear them.

"Nonsense," Bobby scoffed as he grabbed another plate from the kitchen and placed it on the table, "All the kids do is nibble anyway, it'll be fine. Junior and Leo! Get your ass downstairs!"

Donte sort of lingered around the table as the two boys came running down the stairs. They each looked at Donte then at their mom before they both shook Donte's hand.

"Have a seat," Bobby instructed Donte as he sheepishly sat as far away from Dominique as possible and still be on the table.

They shared a quick prayer, led by Dominique, before they started digging into their meals. The conversations were short and brief as Bobby almost interrogated his children about what was going on in their lives, updates on friend, any issues they were having. Donte couldn't help but feel bad about his desperate attempt to build a close bond with his children or maybe Donte was the cause of this tension.

"So Donte," Bobby put his fork down, "How's the car running?"

"It's been great," Donte replied, drawing a roll of the eyes from Dominique, "You know what? I'm not feeling well, I think I'm going to take off."

"You okay?" Bobby asked as he raised an eyebrow.

"Don't worry about it," Donte assured him as he got up, "I'm still good for tomorrow."

Bobby nodded.

"The chicken might have just been a bit under cook," Donte said as he tried his best to withhold his smirk as he walked back from the kitchen after cleaning his plate, "See you on the other side, uncle Bobby."

.....

"Where can we get some decent Italian food around here?"

"Italian food?" the gas station attendant looked at Charlie like he was speaking another language, "The diner up the road on Derby has everything, I'm sure they gotta have some spaghetti meatballs or something."

Charlie sighed before nodding his head and getting back into the car after filling up the car. He reeked of gas but no one complained as none of them wanted to be the ones to step outside in the frigid temperatures.

"There's a diner up the road," Charlie instructed, "We'll call them there."

.....

Donte turned his head around once he heard the door chime and in came two guys that appeared to be in their late 30s. One of them sported a large mustache while the other had a clean shave with both of them rocking a buzz cut that one would see in a military recruiting pamphlet. They both looked around for a bit before walking towards Donte's booth.

"Good to see you boys," said the one with the mustache, "I'm Eric, we spoke on the phone. This is Oliver."

"You can call me Oly," said the other guy as he flashed his smile and shook everyone's hand. They both took a seat the end of the booth as silenced ruled the table.

"How's the food?" asked Eric, drawing an approving and disingenuous nod from Ronny and Robbie. Charlie and Donte remained quiet.

"Welcome to Island Pond," Eric laughed, "The food is shit, the weather is terrible and the women are even worse."

"I saw a few joints I wouldn't mind poking," said Robbie, drawing a laugh out of the three of them. Ronny joined in as well.

"We might as well get to it," Oly shrugged, "You guys have the car I'm assuming?"

"Not yet," Ronny answered right away but Donte held his hand up.

"Let's get the check first," Donte stopped him as he pulled out his wallet and dropped a $40 bill on the table.

"Good tipper," Eric joked.

"People remember the faces of the bad ones," Donte explained, not sure the nature of Eric's little sly comment.

They all got up and walked out of the restaurant before huddling up around the car that they had been crammed up inside for the last six hours.

"What's the hold up on the car?" Eric asked.

"We get it the day of," Charlie broke his silence, "By the time someone reports it stolen and the cops are actually looking for it, it's already done with. We do it today, they'll be looking for it two days from now."

"We'll drive up to Morgan and case a few tomorrow," Donte explained, "Also get acquainted with the state roads and what not. We'll get it in the morning, don't worry about it. And your cars?"

"All ready to go," Oliver scoffed, "We've had them for weeks now so I don't know what you're talking about. Maybe that's the way y'all do things down here."

"We enjoy not being caught," Charlie replied.

"We're pretty good at it too," Donte added.

"I've been doing this before you were probably born, boy. We'll teach y'all a thing or two come Thursday," Eric said with a sly smile.

Donte let out a small smirk before nodding his head. "Sounds like don't really need us then. Could have saved us a trip."

"Donte," Ronny said firmly.

"What?" Donte shrugged.

"We don't," Eric said bluntly, "We just needed a few people's approvals before this went down and somehow y'all got involved. We've done scores like this before, have y'all?"

Donte and Charlie both looked at each other and held each other's gaze for a few seconds.

"You guys have everything under control it seems," Donte said flatly, "We might as well go over the plans since this should be a piece of cake."

"It should," Oly confirmed, "We'll be doing the heavy lifting so you can put your feet up, boy."

"We just need you guys to be at this warehouse with the two cars," Eric took out a piece of paper and gave it to Ronny, "We'll drop ours off at your place that morning or whenever y'all want. Show up with our car to this address and that's it."

"How are you getting the money out?" Donte asked.

"It'll be out," Eric shot back.

"How?"

"What's it to you?"

"Are we serious right now?" Donte asked the rest of his crew, turning his back towards Eric and Oly.

"This boy really giving me his back," Eric threw his hands up in disbelief.

"We'll be there," Charlie said flatly as him and Donte shared another look, "Do your part, we'll do ours. We're staying at the hotel off Brighton Road. Drop the car off tomorrow."

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Post by Soapy » 08 Apr 2019, 13:51

recovering.

no post this week.
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djp73
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Post by djp73 » 08 Apr 2019, 17:22

need to catch up

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Post by Soapy » 13 Jun 2019, 01:18

this shit had potential.
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Post by djp73 » 13 Jun 2019, 12:37

I'd write a nice zombie attack ending to wrap this up.

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Post by Soapy » 14 Oct 2019, 13:51

Moolie Monday's.
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Post by djp73 » 14 Oct 2019, 14:04

:o :o

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Post by Soapy » 14 Oct 2019, 15:54

Charlie took a sip of his Irish coffee before walking over to the window and taking a peak. The motel parking lot was mostly empty outside of the few cars that had been there all morning.

"He should be back by now," Charlie told the room, "We should have went with him."

"He's fine," Donte re-assured him, "Ronny's done this a million times, it's the one fucking thing he's good at."

"It doesn't take him an hour usually," Charlie seethed.

"This a shitty ass town," Donte shrugged, "Probably going to take a while to find a dependable car."

A few more minutes passed before there was a knock on the door and in came Ronny, dangling a car key in his right index finger, "I always wanted to drive a Cutlass."

"Good on gas?" Charlie asked as he grabbed the rest of his belongings.

Ronny nodded as the rest of the room went into mention, picking up their stuff and heading outside. It was only October but it certainly felt like winter as they braved the elements before splitting into the two cars. Ronny and Robbie paired up in the Cutlass while Charlie and Donte got into the car that Eric and Oly dropped off earlier today before they went on their shift at Sunset Bank & Holdings.

"You sure about that?" Donte asked Charlie as he went to open the driver seat door, "I smelled your coffee."

"I'm fine," Charlie shot back before getting behind the wheel.

....

To call it a warehouse would be a disservice to warehouses around the world. The four of them had made their way inside of a glorified, high-ceiling shed that had barely enough space for the two cars. Donte thought so little of the supposed warehouse that he worried that they went to the wrong place but sure enough after an hour or two, in came the armored truck with Eric and Oly in the driver's cabin.

"Took y'all long enough," Donte looked at his watch, "You said 12:30."

"We had to get something to eat," Oly hopped out with a sandwich in his hand.

"You serious?" Donte pressed him.

"Relax," Eric placed his hand on his chest, "We always get lunch at 11:45 at this dinner place, we went to get it there too so the whole 'we got robbed and killed' angle works for us. They'll ask those lovely waitresses and they'll say that we went there for lunch like we always do."

"Robbers don't get lunch," Oly scoffed, "We need them looking for our bodies, not us."

"Enough of this shit," Charlie interjected, "Can we get the fucking money now?"

Eric walked over to the car that they had given Charlie and opened the trunk, taking out what looked like small, electronic devices. He placed them among with a few other tools on the ground and Jerry-rigged them into one tool that he brought over with him to the back of the truck. He strapped them onto the backdoor with some duck tape before motioning everyone to back up.

He lit the end of the fuse and after a few sputters and light sparks, there was a bigger spark followed by a big explosions. It wasn't like the movies and the door didn't blow up open. Instead, it sort of dented and created enough of a space between the two doors for Eric and Oly to be able to pry the door open.

So much for a high-tech heist.

"This is the part where you guys do some actual work," Oly scoffed, which sent Robbie and Ronny scurrying over to unload the bags of money into the two cars.

"Hold on," Eric stopped Robbie and Ronny, "Looks like about fifteen bags in here, you guys get three."

"Fuck that," Charlie laughed, "It's 70/30, we know what the deal was."

"I'm telling you what the deal is," Eric said firmly.

"Can we not do this shit with a stolen fucking armored truck?" Donte interrupted, "Make it four bags and we're out of here."

"Fuck off," Eric waved him off.

"How many in each bag?" Charlie asked.

"200 thousand," Eric explained, "You guys haven't done jack shit, okay? You're still walking away pretty."

"We'll do three," Donte conceded.

"What the fuck, D?" Charlie exclaimed.

"We're still making good money," Donte calmed Charlie down while giving him a raised eyebrow, "Let's send these guys on their way home and then we can count the money. I don't want to be sitting around here when the cops come, arguing and shit. We do this right, by the time anyone finds out, they're going to be dead to the cops. I like that touch by the way, Eric, make the cops think you're dead. Probably get a nice funeral and shit."

"Dead man don't get investigated," he shrugged, proud of his scheme.

Charlie nodded and they resumed their activities, loading all of the bags out of the truck and splitting them between the two cars.

"Pleasure doing business," Oly smiled as he dusted off his hands and took a peek inside one of the many bags in the back of their trunk.

"You got your piece with you?" Donte whispered to Charlie who nodded.

"Always."

"Dump them," Donte said plainly.

"What?"

"Just do it," Donte cleared his throat, "I'll explain after."

Charlie didn't put up much of a fight. He didn't need a reason to kill someone.

He pulled out his silver-plated handgun, aimed it at Eric's head and fired it, missing as it sent Eric stumbling to the ground.

"What the fuck?!"

He fired again, this time hitting Eric in the chest. Oly popped his head out of the trunk and caught two bullets to the side before Charlie walked over and emptied the clip on both of them as he stood over their bodies.

"What the fuck Charlie?!" yelled Ronny while Robbie simply took a few steps back with his hands on his head.

"Ask Donte," he shrugged.

"This was their plan," Donte said, "They wanted to be dead men."

"Holy shit," Robbie walked over to make sure they were both dead.

"They don't look like the trustworthy type," Donte explained, "We really going to trust them not to get caught going over the border with $2.4 million? They fucked us out of some money, been treating us like shit so fuck them."

"You're supposed to be the smart one!" Ronny said in frustration, "What the fuck are we going to do?"

"Nothing's changed," Donte re-iterated, "We dump their bodies, take our cut back to Bobby and we get to keep their cut. They're dead men, remember? No one is supposed to be looking for them anyway. Once their people starts asking question, looking for their piece of the pie, they probably figure that they took off with the money."

"This might actually work," Charlie laughed, "Boys, we just made like what, a shitload of money?"

"Six hundred thousand each," Donte added, "Before we even get our legit cut. I came up with the plan, Charlie executed it so it's time for y'all to earn your piece."

"What do you want us to do?" Robbie composed himself now that he knew what he stood to gain.

"Let's load these fuckers up," Donte ordered, "You dump the Cutlass somewhere with the bodies, somewhere it won't be found for a very long time. A few towns over, even. You come back, dump the car and meet us back at the motel. We'll stay here for a few days, make sure nothing comes up and we go back home after that."

"What do we tell Bobby?" Ronny asked.

"We give him his piece that he's expecting," Donte shrugged, "Nothing more, nothing less. This wasn't his job, this was ours. So he gets his piece, we get ours."

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Post by Soapy » 15 Oct 2019, 14:58

"Calm the fuck down," Donte commanded as Robbie continued to pace back and forth, drawing his ire.

"I got a bad feeling about this," Robbie shook his head, taking a long drag of his cigarette, "We should have just taken the six-hundred, we wouldn't be freezing our balls off waiting for the ax to drop on our head."

"Shut the fuck up," Charlie scoffed, "You wasn't complaining or nothing when you got your slice of apple pie."

"I ain't even touch that shit," Robbie shot back.

"Keep it that way," Donte interjected, "That's how this shit blows up, buying expensive cars and shit. And looking nervous and acting like a fucking dope head when Bobby gets here. It's just a regular drop, like we always do."

"We always get the drop at the house," Robbie got in Donte's face, "Not in the middle of fucking nowhere with plenty of nearby ditches."

"Jesus Christ," Ronny laughed, "You probably soaking wet right now."

"Easy for you to be calm," Robbie replied, "Bobby gotta answer to his wife if something happens to you and your his brother's kid, Charlie got a kid. It don't mean nothing to clip old Robbie over here."

"Shut the fuck up," Charlie said once more, this time pointing to the approaching car.

Donte cleared his throat as Bobby got out of the car, taking out a cigarette as he walked closer to them. Ronny approached Bobby, handing him a lighter.

"Nipote," Bobby greeted Ronny with a hug before giving the rest of them a head nod, "You guys aren't cold out here?"

"No shit," Charlie replied.

"How's the round lady?" Bobby joked as he took a manila envelope from his coat pocket.

"A lot better once I get my cut," Charlie said bluntly, "It's been hard the last few weeks standing on the bench, a man can only stretch so much, so thin."

"We were worried you guys might have caught some heat," Bobby replied, "Didn't want to risk it in case you guys were being followed."

"That situation cleared out?" Donte asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Our cousins up north are still figuring out what happened," Bobby shrugged, "But it don't mean nothing to us, looks like the guys might have skipped town their own way. They haven't heard from them."

"They were kind of shady," Ronny nodded, "A bunch of fucking pricks, if I gotta be honest."

"That's the vibe I'm getting," Bobby agreed, "Either way, we had to make things right, you know, since it was their job."

"What does that mean?" Donte asked.

"The cut's a little light," Bobby started handing out the envelopes to the four of them, "Swear to my mother, we all took less this time around. We had to make it worth their while."

"What the fuck?" Donte opened up the envelope and from the looks of things, it was nothing more than a few grand, if that, "Bobby, we ain't sign up for this shit."

"Sorry, kid. We all took losses," Bobby explained.

"I told you not to take that job," Donte shook his head, "It was a shit show from start to finish. Got us risking federal time for what, two fucking grand?"

"First of all," Bobby cleared his throat, "You signed up to listen to me so by extension, you signed up for this. Second of all, you didn't get caught so don't talk to me about ifs and buts. And one more thing, you guys did good. You brought the bacon home while the other guys didn't. So guess what? Our cousins up north owe us and trust us so next time they get a big job on the line, guess who are they calling?"

Donte didn't say a word as he swiped as his nose, stuffing the envelope into his pocket. The rest of the guys simply counted their money, at least visually, before doing the same.

"Now," Bobby said loudly, "You guys can go back to working but be smart. If it looks easy, it's probably a setup. You get a little tingly sensation, get the fuck out. Go back to work, boys."

They all nodded as Bobby walked back to his car before turning around, "And Charlie, go fucking visit your pregnant girlfriend!"

"What the fuck you making a scene for?" Robbie pushed Donte as soon as Bobby's car was gone.

"If I didn't make a scene about this shit pay," Donte pulled out the envelope and slapped it on Robbie's chest, "It would have been obvious that we're not telling him something."

"You think he knows?" Charles asked Donte.

"They probably suspect something happened," Donte explained, "We came back with six hundred and the rest of the money disappeared. With you complaining about no money coming in and me complaining about this, they have no reason to suspect us anymore."

"What do we do now?" Ronny asked.

"We go back to the trucks,"Donte responded, "Make it seem like we're hurting for money, working and shit. You live off that money, okay? No new cars, no new coats, no nothing."

"So we killed two guys," Robbie scoffed, "Two made guys, possible. We lying to Bobby which is lying to Little Al which is lying to Big Al for some money that we can't fucking use?"

"Not now," Donte placed a hand on Robbie's shoulder, "Give it a few months, let us get a few more jobs and then, only then, can we start buying shit with it. Besides, I'm working on something for us."

"What is it?" Ronny's eyebrows rose.

"I'm not sure yet," Donte nodded, "But trust me, this is the first of many big paydays."

....

"I need to meet with Coleman."

"Fuck you," Miles laughed as he ate a spoonful of rice, "You serious right now?"

"Why not?" Donte persisted, "It'll be good for the both of us."

"How's that?"

"I'll forgive your loan to start," Donte took a sip of his drink as they sat in the kitchen of Miles' one bedroom apartment, "If he says yes."

"Yes to what?"

"I want in. Like, officially. None of this investment shit, none of this protection shit."

"I thought you guys didn't touch that stuff."

"They don't, I do. I have the bread to do it so fuck I need their approval for?"

"How much we talking?" Miles sat up in his chair, placing the spoon down.

"Enough," Donte replied, confidently.

"You bullshitting," Miles shook his head.

"The way I see it," Donte leaned in, "It's only a matter of time before whitey stops wanting to cross the bridge to get their fix and someone's going to realize that. First, it's fine, it don't affect you. You lose a few customers but besides that, nothing major. Next thing you know, them motherfuckers ain't going to stop at the bridge and they're going to keep pushing into your territory. Six o'clock news, all that shit after that. If you're still alive, God willing."

"With me," Donte explained, "We know each other, we're pretty much family. You don't have to worry about me crossing that bridge."

"I should have never gave you that gun," Miles scoffed, "A whole new motherfucker since then."

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Soapy
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The Moolie.

Post by Soapy » 16 Oct 2019, 18:35

It took a bit of persisting but Miles finally contacted Donte on a Sunday afternoon to take a ride with him. Sundays were busy days for the boys during the fall as Joey Bags ran a sports bar where most of the capos would come and watch the football games. By extension, everyone under the said capos were the de-facto security detail. Donte wasn't exactly considered muscle so his absence wouldn't be noticed. Nevertheless, he took the necessary precautions of stopping by the house, dropping hints that he was there with an empty pizza box and some beer cans before getting in his car and crossing the bridge.

"Are you serious right now?" Donte told Miles as Miles pulled out a long piece of cloth, "Where's the trust?"

"Up my ass," Miles scoffed as he tossed it to Donte, "Either do that shit or get in the trunk, up to you. I'm sure it's nice and warm in that motherfucker."

"The whole point of this is that you trust me more than the next man," Donte pleaded, "What the fuck is the point if you ain't going to trust me?"

Miles mulled over it before grabbing the piece of cloth and pushing Donte towards the car, "I know where your auntie stay at, D. Don't fuck with me."

Donte couldn't hold back his smirk as he got into Miles' car, getting nice and comfortable as they started their ride. It was a pretty straight shot to their destination but a bit lengthy as they crossed several counties before getting off the freeway into a lakeside property. Despite the season, the sun was out and the skies were clear as imported palm trees littered the long driveway that led into the house. Given his previous state the last time he was here, Donte was able to take in the beauty of the scenery this time.

"Give it a few years," Miles knocked on the door, "You're going to be visiting me in a place like this, no more one-bedroom walk-ups."

"Give me ten," Donte replied, a bit more modest.

The door swung open and it was a familiar face, just not Coleman's.

"Skippy," Miles nodded his head, which Skippy returned in kind.

"Miles," Skippy closed the door behind them, "I see you brought your friend back."

"I don't think I introduced myself last time," Donte flashed his pearly -- okay, slightly stained -- whites and extended his hand out but Skippy simply watched him.

"Who is this man, exactly?" Skippy faced Miles, ignoring Donte.

"This man is going to be a rich motherfucker some day," said a voice that came down the cascading stairs.

Coleman wore a silk black shirt with the buttons unbuttoned down to his belly button while sporting beige shorts that were thigh high. Under any other circumstances, Miles and Donte would have proceeded to roast this motherfucker but instead, they all showed respect by crossing their hands in front of them and lowering their head.

"If he don't get killed first," Coleman teased as he shook hands with the both of them, "You a prying motherfucker, you know that?"

"I'd say consistent," Donte shrugged.

"Your boy over here been in my ear for the two fucking months about this goddamn meeting," Coleman stared them down, "We haven't had any issues with our arrangement, have we?"

"None at all," Donte agreed.

"So are you here to raise the price on me? Change our terms? You don't get up off the toilet mid-shit," Coleman continued, "I pride myself on not spending time with two-time motherfuckers like you and your partner. Shit, at this rate, I'm trying to not have to meet with any of you niggas and just run my business from an island."

"Barbados is nice this time of the year," Skippy chimed in followed by a wry laugh.

"You still a nigga, right?" Coleman asked Donte, placed his hand on Donte's shoulder, "Don't want to offend you or nothing."

"None taken," Donte cleared his throat, "I won't waste your time, boss. You're making money, I'm making money. I'd like us to make more."

"How's that?"

"There's an open market that none is touching. Not at the level they should."

"Open market?" Coleman laughed, "You sure you a nigga?"

"White folks love their drugs too," Donte explained while Miles simply took a step back to give Donte his own space, literally and figuratively. If this sales pitch was going to backfire, Miles didn't want his fingerprints anywhere near it.

"If a kid on the west side of Port Town wants to cop, he's driving into the city. He's not going to get it from one of Miles' boys because he's afraid of getting robbed, his face isn't good over the bridge. The college kids? They sure as shit ain't crossing the bridge."

"The fuck I care about them kids for?" Coleman scoffed.

"That's money leaving your pockets every time they get on that train to head into the city," Donte shrugged, "You okay with people five minutes from where you have product moving going an hour away to cop?"

"Sounds like Miles should expand his fucking territory," Coleman directed his ire towards Miles.

"He can't move work there," Donte stepped in, "The Italians won't allow it, they don't need a reason to beat a nigga ass and he'll sure as shit be giving them plenty. Sure, you could try a hostile takeover but you really going to trust Miles and his little street thugs to run out generations of Italians?"

"Fuck you," Miles muttered.

"Say Miles loses that war," Donte ignored Miles, "Now, you lost out on the lower east and have to find someone else to move your work."

"I can move my fucking work," Coleman shook his head, "That ain't of concern to you."

"Or you can let me help you," Donte added, "Miles runs that side of the bridge, I run the other side. We've got a few night clubs opening up almost damn near every week, ran by the Italians. Who else can run shit through there except for me?"

"How exactly are you going to do this? Got a stash house? Drop points? Runners?"

"I've got the money," Donte stammered, "I can get it to you at the drop of the word."

"So you don't," Coleman laughed, "Get this sweet mouth motherfucker out my face."

"Here you go," Donte took out the same envelope that Bobby had given to him for the heist job in Vermont, "This is just for having this meeting."

Coleman looked inside the envelope before tossing it to Skippy, "This supposed to impress me?"

"The kind of man that is willing to pay you three stack for a conversation isn't one that's fucking around," Donte regained his confidence. Money had that effect on him, "I can have twenty, fifty ready for you by tomorrow for my first pickup. Let me worry about the logistics of this shit."

"No," Coleman walked over to the nearby bar and fixed himself a drink, "You just got off the porch and off-the-porch niggas get caught and arrested and tell on people. Good speech, though."

"Col...." Donte started but Miles placed a hand on his chest.

"We'll let you enjoy the rest of your Sunday," Miles forced a smile, "Who knows, maybe the Jets got a nice little squad this year."

"This your man, right?" Coleman took a sip of his drink before pouring more bourbon down it.

"Yeah," Miles said hesitantly, "He don't mean no disrespect and he ain't no rat, he just green, that's all."

"When's your next re-up? It's soon, right?"

"Yes," Miles sighed.

"Split it with him," Coleman said flatly.

"Streets is hungry right now," Miles shook his head, "We still making up for Berna..."

"That's your man, right? Unless he not," Coleman approached, "At which case, the fuck you doing bringing him here? That's a liability, you become a liability too."

"He is," Miles sucked his teeth, "I heard you, my nigga. I'll get him right next time."

"I trust you to be a man of your word," Coleman shook their hands, "Skip, see these niggas out please and run me a bath after. I smell like common folks, right now."

Topic author
Soapy
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Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 23:42

The Moolie.

Post by Soapy » 21 Oct 2019, 17:24

"What the fuck do you want me to do with this?"

"Aren't you at the clubs every week?" Donte answered Robbie's question with another one.

"There's plenty of shit like this over there," Robbie scoffed as he placed the saran wrapped bag back onto the table, "It'd be like bringing water to the beach or whatever. Besides, pills is what's popping these days."

"Drugs are moving through the clubs? I thought we didn't touch that shit," Donte leaned back, letting his body sink into the couch.

"We don't," Robbie explained, "But that don't mean drugs don't get moved by somebody."

"Who?"

"I don't fucking know," Robbie shrugged, "You want me to walk up to the motherfucker and be like 'excuse me, sir, who is your supplier?' Why you bringing this shit to me anyway?"

"I figured you would have a use for it," Donte shook his head as he got up and went to grab the bag but Robbie pulled it away.

"I can do something with it," Robbie smiled but Donte didn't, "I'm fucking around, I can move it....at least some of it. I can definitely move the trees, though."

"They're already accounted for," Donte replied, "At least I think they are, I'll get back to you on that. Think you can move it by Sunday?"

Robbie nodded, "Bobby knows about this?"

"Does he need to?" Donte shot back.

"I don't see why," Robbie smirked.

....

"What are you......how did you find me?"

"You mentioned your major," Donte got up from the bench, "I figured the Humanities building lobby would be a good place to start."

"I'd hardly call this a lobby," Camilla flashed a smiled before turning around to face her friends that had just came down the stairs with her, "I'll catch you guys later."

"There aren't a lot of Camillas here either," Donte was surprised when Camilla brought him in for a hug.

Her hair was shorter than the last time he saw here and her olive skin a bit tanner which dissipated her resemble to Charlie" You're trying to sign up for class, after all?"

"I don't know about that," Donte laughed, "I was just...."

"In the neighborhood? Almost an hour away? Come on."

"I didn't say that," Donte remembered her sense of humor and how much laughing they did the last time they were together, "I needed to talk to you about something....I needed your help."

"Charlie know you're here?"

"No," Donte sighed, "With th....."

"Good," she said as she grabbed his hand, "Let's go chill, I was heading to my dorm anyway before my evening classes."

....

"This is like....some good shit," Camilla took another drag as she held the blunt out and looked at it, "Like really good shit."

"I'll take your word for it," Donte smiled as he continued to walk around in her room. It was quite small, even smaller than the various rooms he had as a child. When he imagined the college lifestyle, it wasn't a box big enough for a twin bed and a small TV, "How's the weed here?"

"It gets the job done," Camilla shrugged, "It's pretty cheap, unlike this shit. How did you know I smoke?"

"The aesthetic," Donte faced her as he sat on the edge of the bed, "You have like a thousand wristband."

"That's a college word right there," Camilla blew the smoke into Donte's face, "You sure you don't want some of this?"

Donte let Camilla's words linger. If it wasn't here intention for them to a double entendre, her eyes betrayed her as she sized Donte up, "I'm good, how much does he charge? The guy you cop from?"

"That's sexist, assuming he's a guy."

"Is he?"

"He is," she punched Donte on the shoulder, "Not much, you can typically bargain with him. Just tell him how much you have and he'll hook it up. Favors, too."

"I see," Donte nodded, "He goes here?"

"Yeah," she replied, "He lives in the building across from here, the one next to the big fucking clock."

"Do you know him well? Think he'd be interesting in meeting me?"

"I don't know," she said as she got up and grabbed a water bottle from her mini fridge, "I can't say I know him too well. You trying to sell some of this shit?"

"In bulk," Donte explained, "No nickel and dime shit so looking for someone that already had something setup and just needs a new supply line."

"Let me get it," Camilla sat up, "I'm serious, fuck him. Wouldn't you rather do business with me?"

"That's....that's not necessary. I just wanted to tap into the college game and you're the only person I know that's going to like a college college. That's all, just needed to know you guys over here got your shit."

"I can be that person," she insisted, "Half my friends already get it from me anyway since they're too pussy to actually buy drugs themselves."

"It's....let's forget that Charlie is your brother for a second."

"You mean Dicky."

"Dicky...Charlie....whatever, let's forget that he would literally kill me for being here...it's a lot."

"So?"

"You're not hearing me," Donte laughed nervously, "It's a lot of fucking weed, not just a few dime bags."

"You're not even going to let a girl get a chance?"

"If..."

"Yes! I promise I won't let you down!"

"I said if," Donte held out his index finger, "We go through with this, I need you to be super careful and at least for now, not tell your brother."

"I haven't spoken to him in weeks," she scoffed, "We're good on that front."

"I'll drop it off sometime this week," Donte got up, "You sure you can do this?"

"I'm telling you," she said as she got closer to him, "We're going to make a lot of fucking money."

Topic author
Soapy
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The Moolie.

Post by Soapy » 23 Oct 2019, 14:05

Donte wiped his mouth and hands, trying to hide the evidence that he had been picking at the bag of food since he left the drive-thru. He parked the car and hurried up the steps before knocking on the door.

"Special delivery," Donte joked to no one as Charlie let him in, "A little solo party?"

"Something like that."

There were a few empty beer bottles on the kitchen counter while Charlie was nursing a drink in his hand as well. From the smell of it, it seemed like cognac and by the looks of it, it wasn't his first of the night. Charlie grabbed at the bag and didn't complain about his few missing fries as he started barfing down his food.

"You got what I asked?" Charlie looked up and stopped eating just long enough to get the words out.

"Yeah," Donte nodded as he pulled out a wad of cash.

"Appreciate you holding it for me," Charlie returned to his food, "I'm still surprised I haven't came back to this apartment being half-empty."

"They probably realized that there wouldn't be much to rob."

"Not everybody can be a rich ass drug dealer," Charlie scoffed, "What's this about you and drugs now?"

Donte paused and examined Charlie's face who seemed more enthralled with his burger than the current conversation. Not the type of reaction Donte expected if and when Charlie found out Donte had his sister selling drugs, albeit marijuana.

"Where you hear that?"

"Robbie," Charlie laughed, "Numb nuts needed help trying to sell that shit, told me you gave him, what, half a pound?"

"I told him to keep his mouth shut," Donte shook his head.

"Trusting Robbie to do anything productive besides sticking his dick into something dark and wet is where you failed. Besides," Charlie finished up his sandwich, "I didn't know we were doing that shit now, you should have came to me. I would have been of better use than Robbie."

"We aren't," Donte sighed, "I just wanted to see if it was profitable before bringing it up, you know? It's harder to say no and stick to your core principles when I'm handing you cash."

"The same with the protection shit," Charlie nodded in agreement.

"Speaking of," Donte hung his head, "We aren't getting money from that anymore."

"The fuck?" Charlie took a swig from the bottle, not bothering to use the cup that was right in front of him, "When were you going to tell me that shit?"

"When I figured out how to replace that source of income," Donte stammered.

"And have you? Bobby is still going to want his action/ The money from Vermont might tide us over for a while but Bobby ain't enjoying those riches."

"I think so," Donte scratched his head, "At least I hope so."

....

"That's it?"

"You try moving this shit," Robbie scoffed, "I was fucking up all night, the club scene isn't all nice and cuddly you know. I spent half the time looking to sell your shit and the other time not trying to get robbed, stabbed or both. I'm not a fucking drug dealer."

"You said you could sell it," Donte counted the money up again. Much to Robbie's surprise, Donte handed all of the money back to him.

"What's this?"

"Your cut," Donte grabbed his jacket and threw it over, "I can trust that you'll be more motivated to do better next time?"

....

"I think I have a future in this," Camilla smiled as she munched -- very loudly -- on some potato chips.

Donte counted the raggedy one dollar and five dollars bills that Camilla had just handed it to him. He could already tell that it was much larger than Robbie's count despite him giving Robbie a bigger supply. Camilla had done good, real good. Enough to not only cover but make a profit.

"You just might," Donte smiled as he handed all of the money back to Camilla, "This is yours, good job."

"I don't think that's how this works," Camilla slowly took the money from Donte.

"It won't work like this," Donte laughed, "Consider this a push start or an investment into this partnership. We'll work on cosignment..."

"Consignment," she corrected him.

"There's a reason you're here and I'm in PT," he laughed at his own expense, "We'll work on consignment, start with an ounce and work from there. Each ounce is going to run you $120, you can more than make up for it by charging these motherfuckers out the ass."

"$120? I can get it for like $70 around here," Camilla pushed back. She might have been wearing a sweatshirt and living in a college dorm but she was still a DiMeo.

"It's shitty weed," Donte replied, "You know it, I know it, it's why you were able to move this shit so easily and tax the shit out of them."

"When can you get it to me?" she stopped resisting.

"The drop days will be Sundays," he told her, "Always on Sundays, around 1 or 2."

"We're going to be seeing a lot of each other now," Camilla swayed her head from side to side as she got closer to Donte, "That's fine with you?"

"Yeah," Donte cleared his throat, "Charlie doesn't know about this, does he?"

"I won't tell if you won't."

"I'll get around to it," Donte squeezed himself out of her room, "Don't forget you're still in college so study and shit, please."

....

Donte shook his head as he took out the stack of money from underneath the bed. His stash was visibly decreasing as he still remembered when he it was full to the brim. It was now a quarter through, the cost of doing business.

The sound of his aunt's footsteps startled Donte as he stuffed the money into his bag before popping up from the bed and looking around the room. Just in time, his aunt came into the room.

"Remembering old times?" she asked as she came into the room, "Come sit down and eat your food before it gets cold.

"Wasn't that long ago, thanks."

He walked over to the kitchen, placing his bag on the floor as he sat down in front of a plate of smothered turkey and rice and beans. . It felt good to not be eating something that was covered in tomato sauce or fast food for once. He took a few big bites before looking over at his watch.

"You finally come over here and you're in a rush," she shook her head, "I'm glad Uncle Bobby got you that job over there now but damn, can I see my nephew a few times a month?"

"I'm trying," Donte ate some more before getting up and walking over to his aunt, kissing her on the forehead, "It's just....busy these days but I'll make it an effort. How about this? Sunday afternoons, I'm here like clockwork. How about that?"

"Well, I get home from church at eleven and don't go back until 7 so that could work. What you want me to cook next week?"

"I wouldn't be mad at some fried chicken," Donte started to gather his stuff, "I might need to take this turkey with me now that we're talking about it."

....

"It's all there," Miles sucked his teeth as Skippy slowly counted the money once again.

"You're over," Skippy looked back at Miles and Donte as Skippy sat in the front of the SUV while Donte and Miles were in the back.

"That's how easy it was to sell this shit," Donte interjected, "Let Coleman know we're serious about this shit."

"I don't know who you're talking about," Skippy shot Donte a death stare.

"Don't say his name or mention him," Miles whispered to Donte, "Not during drops."

"We're good, then?" Donte asked.

"You can get out now," Skippy told Miles who still sat there, "This business is between me and your friend now, your piece is done."

Miles muttered a few cursed words before getting out of the SUV. Donte scooted to the middle of the backseat to get closer to Skippy.

"How much can you move right now?"

"I can probably do half a pound of weed..."

"Green," Skippy shook his head, "Half a pound of green, please. Listen kid, we're not some nickel and dime motherfucker. We sell big, wholesale and you got money, I'll give you that. You just don't have the infrastructure right now to be dealing with us, for now. You'll work with Miles, feed off his supply until you're ready to get your own."

Donte knew Skippy -- and by extension Coleman -- was right. He had bitten off more than he could chew and it had bitten him in his wallet. The setup with Camilla was bound to work and Robbie, with some improving, would be a good little flow of cash. But he wasn't ready to push the amount of drugs that Miles was serving.

"Go back to what you're good at," Skippy explained, "Protect the trucks and sell a little dope on the side, start making headway there. We trust that you'll also make sure that no one else is stepping into that turf?"

"Of course," Donte nodded in agreement, "We got you there."

"Now get the fuck out of my car."
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