The Moolie of Port Town.

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Caesar
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The Moolie of Port Town.

Post by Caesar » 11 Jan 2022, 10:52

Sounds like someone needs to get clipped for bumping their gums.

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Soapy
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Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 18:42

The Moolie of Port Town.

Post by Soapy » 19 Jan 2022, 07:53

Caesar wrote:
11 Jan 2022, 10:52
Sounds like someone needs to get clipped for bumping their gums.
oh yes indeed but who?

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Soapy
Posts: 7113
Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 18:42

The Moolie of Port Town.

Post by Soapy » 20 Jan 2022, 14:50

four years ago, 1994
...
"I'll say it again, I really hoped it hadn't come to this. I'd really prefer it if this were to be handled between yourselves, Al feels the same way."

"I know Joey," Michael nodded, "My father too, God rest his soul."

"But we're here," Bruce interrupted his nephew, clearing his throat in the process, "So where is Al?"

"He's not coming," Joey responded flatly, a bit insulted by Bruce's question, "You wanted a sit down, here we are, you need more now?"

Bruce motioned his hand in a dismissing fashion before rearranging himself in his seat so that they were all eye level.

Despite his attitude, Bruce was pleased with the turnout even with the Fiores missing. Bobby Mollicone, Pete Maninno was there and so was Joey 'Bags' Manocchio which, in combination, was as good as having Little Al there which by extension was like having Big Al present.

"For the matter at hand, leadership has agreed with Bruce that he has rights to all the stores over the bridge and anything west of Main Street on our side," Joey handed out the verdict with Bruce nodding along, unable to hold back the smirk on his face. Michael's stoic expression robbed Bruce of some added joy as his nephew didn't seem bothered by this news.

"That's fair," Bruce added, hoping to get a reaction out of Michael but nothing.

"As far as the powder business, Al and I feel that Michael...has experience in that field, worked closely with his father -- may he rest in peace -- and it would be in the best interest of everybody involved that the business continues to run smoothly. With that being said, that's Michael business to do with it as he sees fit."

"Get the fuck out of here," Bruce was now on the other shoe, "You're fucking kidding me?"

"It's best for everyone Bruce," Pete chimed in, "You'll see."

"Cause he feeds your whorehouse with that junk," Bruce fired at Pete, who wasn't the confrontational type and let it slide, "Joey, you're fucking me here."

"You want a sit down, you got a sit down and that's the fucking end of this shit. We can be like fucking niggers and shoot each other over it but we're not fucking niggers, now are we? Exactly," Joey got up, "You want to continue to negotiate amongst yourselves and figure out how to handle your brother's crew? Go right ahead, I don't give a fuck. But this bickering and shit? It ends here, got it?"



As much as Donte was enjoying his newfound independence and his apartment out of the city, schools were back in session and with it came the morning traffic. Donte's commute to the warehouse became a nightmare, resulting in him leaving his doorstep earlier and earlier in an effort to try to beat it. He fared well this particularly morning but the sleep was still in his eyes after pulling a late job the night before that didn't even net them much.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah," Donte snapped out of his mindlessness haze.

"She wasn't like this with Fran," Charlie continued, "We were fucking like crazy when she was pregnant, all the way up to when she was a fucking balloon. She barely got a bump and it's already off limits. I mean, what the fuck?"

"Maybe she's insecure or something about her body," Donte suggested.

"That don't stop her from shoving anything in sight down her throat," Charlie laughed but his joke didn't seem to land with Donte, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Just tired," Donte explained, "Didn't get much sleep last night."

"I told you to just stay up and hit the town with me," Charlie shook his head, "What's that saying, youth is wasted on the young people or some shit?"

"Yeah."

"Well, being able to fuck whoever you want, whenever you want, however you want is wasted on single people. My offer still stands by the way, I can set you up with something real decent. I was by Pete's the other day and I swear to God, I wanted to marry this bitch. Anyway, we went to her apartment after and her roommate, you should have seen her. Long legs, tight ass, total package. Her last boyfriend was black too, so you know she's a go."

"What was that you were saying about being able to fuck whoever you want is wasted on single people?"

"It's not the same," Charlie waved him off, "Forget it, you wouldn't understand."

Donte was glad to return to a state of quietness as they awaited Bruce's arrival which unfortunately didn't take long.

Bruce shared a quick embrace with both of them as Donte slid him an envelope that he briefly examined before tossing it into his office and locking the door behind him. They followed him back outside where Bruce pointed to his newly refurbished car and tossed Donte the keys. He seemed to be in a hurry, more than usual, which didn't ease their nerves given that Bruce had told them to meet him at the warehouse with no other instructions.

Donte had wondered if mentioning the conversation Michael and him had had at the apartment complex to Bruce was a good idea in retrospect. You didn't need to be a family therapist to notice the underlying friction that existed between the two of them and Donte more than likely had just poured fueled on that.

When Vincent's crew was divided among his brother and his son, a lot of the guys that initially were assigned to Bruce started running with Michael more and more. It made sense, Bruce was an older guy that didn't get straightened out until he was in his 40s and that's back when everybody and anybody in the Fiore crime family got made. Even then, it was at the behest of Vincent being named capo that Bruce eventually got the nod and he was largely viewed as just his younger brother's lapdog.

Michael, on the other hand, was groomed for the position by both his father, who was a respected member of the family, and his godfather, Bobby, who many viewed as the logical successor to Joey Bags as underboss if Joey ever got made boss. Perhaps more importantly, people simply liked Michael and the same couldn't be said for Bruce.

"Follow this," Bruce handed Donte from the backseat a printed out direction guide from MapQuest to an address in East Bay.

"Your neck of the woods," Donte slid it across the dashboard to him to see if Charlie recognized the address but he didn't.

"I think that's by the docks," Charlie shrugged.

"Fuck you asking him for? The directions right there!" Bruce commanded, "Get a move on."



There wasn't much around which worried Donte as they stepped out of the car. The address they had driven to was a poorly lit restaurant where Donte wasn't even sure if they were open or not as he opened the door and didn't hear any noise. The seats were worn down and the signs were faded, promoting discount deals from likely a decade prior.

Donte now fully regretted telling Bruce anything about the conversation with Michael. Bruce must have thought that he was the one that ran his mouth to Michael or maybe it was Charlie. Either way, both of them had to go and he brought them out to East Bay to get the job done. No, no, he wouldn't get his own hands dirty. He'd slip out the back and some black guys would jump them, beat them down, take their money and them shoot them. Everyone else would just assume that Donte and Charlie just finally robbed the wrong people and got what was coming to them.

"Gentlemen," Donte let out an audible sigh of relief as he heard the voice, "I'm glad we're finally meeting."

There were three of them sitting down at one of the booths, all of which looked to be of Middle Eastern descent with strong similarities to each other although two of them were quite a bit older than the third. Donte examined their faces with one of them particularly standing out as he couldn't quite place him.

Both trios shook hands as Bruce joined them in the booth, instructing Donte and Charlie to sit in the table across. Charlie felt a bit slighted, akin to being sent to the kid's table but he obliged without a fuss. Donte was simply glad to still be breathing.

"I believe you've already met my brother," said one of them as he tilted his head towards the familiar face, "I'm Arif, pleasure to meet you. I wish...it'd be under better settings but I'm sure you can appreciate the need for discrepancy."

"Of course," Bruce responded softly. His posture was different than what Donte had previously examined in other business meetings, almost subservient instead of his usual chihuahua pit-bull tactics, "Bruce, you must be Muhammad then."

"Yes," said the third man, who looked and sounded younger than the others, "Our brother Adnan has said a lot of good things about you, how you do business."

"I intend to keep my reputation as such," Bruce responded as his eyes lingered on Adnan, the familiar face, "I don't want to waste your time."

"Let's start," Arif adjusted himself in his seat, "I...We understand that you want to help our...importation business."

"Yes, from my understanding, ICE hasn't been too kind to your operations, I hope I'm not speaking out of turn."

"It's true," Arif continued to be their sole voice, "It's no secret but what are you proposing?"

"I can inject twenty, thirty thousands dollar," Bruce answered, "Right away, in cash, upfront. That should help you get back on your feet, stabilize things, do with it as you wish."

"That's a start," Muhammad chimed in but Arif quickly raised his hand as if to tell his younger brother to butt out, which he did.

"Look," Arif placed his hands on the table, "The money...that's a generous offer and one we would gladly take and we can discuss percentages after."

"Twenty-five percent of the business is my position," Bruce reverted back to his bully tactics when it came to negotiations, "That's my position, not an offer."

"It's a fair offer," Arif quickly corrected him, "But the money, that's not the problem. May I speak freely?"

"Always," Bruce leaned back into his chair.

"I can move as many kilos of heroin through these ports in a week as I want to," Arif said flatly, "What I need, what we need, is somewhere to put it and...assistance...moving it into the city. A smart man such as yourself can now see why your offer, while generous, is not going to make a dent in that."

"What were you thinking?" Bruce held his palms out towards the brothers.

Arif's eyes wandered over to Charlie and Donte, "I understand that your culture, you also value trust and loyalty."

"Yes."

"We need men," Arif explained, "Capable men, men that we can trust and with all of these immigration issues like you said, we're short in that department. Your money, it'll help but I don't want to just buy men. A men that you can buy is a man that can be bought, you understand me?"

"I do," Bruce nodded, "I can provide men for transportation and storage, let's say fifteen a kilo each. My offer still stands on the other thing."

Two of the brothers seemed acceptive to the offer but the one voice who did matter wasn't.

"Let's make it ten," Arif replied, "As far as the offer, it's generous, again but the most we can do is twenty percent. As I'm sure you can sympathize with, I cannot...we cannot give an outsider a bigger stake than any of us, we're all equals on this side of the table."

"Twelve grand with anything above ten kilo in a single load jumps to fifteen per."

Arif nodded in agreement.

"I've found you to be a fair businessman," Bruce agreed to the terms by shaking hands, "We're going to make each other a lot of money."

As the men stood up to end the meeting, Donte could finally place the familiar face. The last time he saw him he was disheveled, flushed and Donte mistook him for a junkie but now it was clear while he and Bruce would share long gazes into each other's eyes.

"This is Donte and Charlie," Bruce finally introduced them, "Any business, logistics, all of that, goes through them."

"Likewise with my brothers Adnan and Muhammad," Arif responded as Donte was now the one fixated on Adnan, "We'll be in touch."

Bruce being a life long bachelor with no wife and kids, not even rumored girlfriend or anything, was always a bit strange to Donte. Everyone else that was in the life was a pussy hound, it was one of the perks. He didn't give it too much credence as from the outside, the same could be said for Donte and he knew which team he was batting for. While the signs were there for Bruce, none of them could be found on Adnan who had a burly frame that towered over his brothers compared to Bruce's slender and meek appearance.

"You need me to break it down for you?" Bruce snapped Donte out of his own mind as they made it back inside the car, "Or you got most of that? You sure as shit better be listening."

"Yeah," Charlie quickly chimed in, "Who are the guys going to be?"

"You two," Bruce responded incredulously, "You got something better to do?"

Charlie let it be.

"And don't say shit to nobody about this shit," Bruce added, "This shit is just between us."

Topic author
Soapy
Posts: 7113
Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 18:42

The Moolie of Port Town.

Post by Soapy » 24 Jan 2022, 11:49

Charlie hadn't lied about her figure as her hips and ass were begging to come out of the tight jeans that she wore which loosened around her narrow waist. Growing up on the other side of the bridge, Donte had been around plenty of full figured women but her body easily took the cake.

"What the fuck does the old man know about pushing weight?" Charlie continued to ramble into Donte's ear as the girls had gotten up and walked over to the kitchen to refill their drinks.

"Shit all," Donte responded, not paying Charlie much mind as he kept his eyes focused on more important matters, "Does it really matter?"

"I don't know," Charlie groaned, "I got a bad feeling about this, this is how I guys end up in the can. They're giving football numbers for this shit, I don't gotta tell you that."

Donte took slight offense to Charlie's last remarks but he was right as plenty of the guys that he grew up with were doing decades in the joint after getting busted for trafficking. They had been lucky to a certain extent for never getting pinched during a job but low level robberies and heists weren't on the authorities radar at the moment, it was all about the war on drugs.

The Fiore family had made their bones early on selling booze during Prohibition but never really migrated to drugs once Prohibition was lifted under Big Al. It wasn't until Little Al took over in the early 70s that the family had re-entered the drug game, particularly with heroin. They made the transition to mainly coke with John, Donte's father, being at the forefront until he was at the forefront a little bit too much and everything went to shit soon after.

"There's a vacuum," Donte explained, "I mean, besides the old man's favorite nephew, who else do you know tapping into it?"

"But there's a reason for that," Charlie was adamant, "I'm not even on some Fabio shit, like we too good to be pushing this shit but if we're going to do it, we have to do it right. Do we even know these Arab motherfuckers? Like, how did fucking Bruce find them? The motherfucker is a hermit, nobody fucks with him besides us."

"I don't know," Donte had decided to keep Bruce's secret -- and Adnan's -- to himself. After all, he could have been wrong and maybe it wasn't Adnan that had been leaving his apartment that night. Charlie might not have been too accepting of Bruce's alternative lifestyle and Donte didn't want to risk it, "Does it matter if it ends up being legit?"

"The Arabs do have the port on lock," Charlie started to come around, "But then there's the issue of pay."

"Enough of this business talk," Dania, the girl who had Donte smitten and under a spell, joined them on the couch, giving Donte a sip of her drink.

"I love it," Elena, her roommate, struck Charlie's long hair, "Gets me so hot down there hearing them talk about this shit."

"I think it's just me," Charlie stuck his hand in Elena pants, causing Donte to look away while Dania didn't flinch. She was accustomed to this by now, "I'm serious, D, you need to talk to him about that shit."

"He's not giving us points," Donte was initially weary of talking business in front of them but also wanted to impress Dania, "I could talk to him but you know how he gets."

"Who?" Dania asked Donte, lifting her right leg and resting it on Donte's lap.

"My boss," Donte tried to compose himself, "Our mighty king."

"The king of kings," Charlie added with a scoff while he kept his hand focused on the task at hand, "I'm grateful to the guy for the opportunities but Jesus, you'd think he's fucking Don Corleone the way he carries himself."

"I can make you forget all about him," Elena grabbed Charlie's hand out of her pants and licked his fingers. It creeped Donte out but appeared to do the opposite on Dania who was now using her leg that was on Donte's lap to rub on him.

"Let's give them the living room," she whispered into Donte's ear before standing up and grabbing him by the arm, leading him into her bedroom.



"Hands up," Bobby held his champagne flute up, "I thought Al was crazy dumping all of his money into this shit, what a fucking dumbass I was."

"That's why he's the boss," Joey teased, "I'll be honest, I didn't see it either but you had a big part in this as well Bobby."

"Thank you," Bobby smiled.

"We all did," Joey addressed the rest of the room which consisted of Pete, Fabio, Robert Pastore, and Ronnie.

They were celebrating the purchase of a local hotel off U.S. Route 9 by Big Al and Little Al's development company. The good days of the hotel were behind it and it had turned into a shithole but the Fiores saw potential in it with its location and with some added persuasion from the rest of the crew, convinced the owners to sell it to them well under market rate. With the money they saved in the purchasing, they were now able to use the rest of the loan money to give out favorable contracts to their friends in the restoration project of the hotel. One hand kept feeding the other.

"We'll be reviewing your bid for the reconstruction," Pete joked to Bobby, "None of that funny shit, though."

"Telling the guys they're actually going to have to do work is going to take some time," Robert added.

"Don't worry," Joey put his arm around Fabio, "You'll also be getting the contract for the cleaning service."

"Linens and everything?" Fabio smiled.

"And everything," Joey let out a boisterous laugh, "We do this right, we could be looking at an easy two, three mil by the time we flip this shit."

"I would tell you to send Al my regards," Fabio finished off his glass, "But I have a feeling he'll prefer an envelope instead."

With the snap of his finger, Ronnie approached Joey and Pete, giving each of them an envelope. They both nodded before hugging Ronnie and then Fabio.

"We have to get going," Fabio told the rest of the room, "I'll send the bid over by the day after tomorrow and we can discuss it afterwards."

"No problem," Joey dismissed them as Ronnie and Fabio left the room.

Once they got to the car, Fabio addressed Ronnie, "This is good, really good."

"What's our cut looking like?" Ronnie inquired.

"Too early to tell," Fabio responded, "I think they're being a little too optimistic talking about two, three million. A million max, if that when they end up selling this. A.C. is an hour south, New York is an hour north. Why the fuck is anyone stopping there?"

"True," Ronnie nodded in agreement.

"It's a good idea though," Fabio continued, "The development company, the money is going to be in real estate, just not that shithole. It don't matter to us though if we get a good contract in while they still have optimistic projections. Whether they sell the hotel or not, they still are going to need our services so we need to make our money on the front end and not rely too much on the backend. Now, when they realize that they just bought a shithole with a fancy new sign, they'll try to fuck us and reneg on the contract but Joey ain't stupid enough to expect retroactive back pay for overpaying us."

"And Al?"

"Al knows where his bread is buttered, he's not going to approve that move either. Whichever way it falls, we're good, you need to remember that. Always have your deal in place, your position settled when the going is good. Never let shit fall into place before you have a play in motion, it's too late by then and they become tight fucks."

"Yeah, I get it."

"You need to remember this shit," Fabio stressed to his son, "The game on Kirkland, I want you to run that from now on, I've already spoken to Big Mike about it."

"Alright," Ronnie tried to hold back his excitement.

"Now, I know you've handled some other games with him but that one in particular, it's a tougher crowd, you got it?"

"Yeah," Ronnie continued to nod, "You've taken me there before, it's a lot of the guys from the docks and shit."

"Exactly, so I'm trusting you with this one and see how you handle it and we can discuss an expansion of your role going forward. It's becoming time for you to start earning your stripes, you understand me?"

"Yes, sir."



It wasn't winter yet but the breeze had brought on a bit of a chill causing Donte to throw his hoodie over his head. He was relieved when he saw Muhammad jogging towards them with his hands in his pocket, most likely shielding them from the cold temperatures.

"What the fuck?" Charlie greeted him.

"Traffic," Muhammad explained. His accent wasn't as thick as the rest of his brothers, "I don't know why we drive down to then drive up."

"We didn't set this up," Donte told him as he opened up the cargo door in the back of the truck. He had similar concerns about the arrangement with the Pakistanis which entailed their contacts at the port driving the load down to Port Town to be stored at the warehouse and, in increments, driven back up north to the city where the Pakistanis' distributors were at.

"Everything was smooth yesterday?" Muhammad asked as he began counting the load.

"Yeah," Charlie responded, "Is it always going to be the same guy?"

"Kaz? Yes, always. Anyone else," Muhammad instructed them, "You call me right away, okay?"

"Aight," Charlie wanted to get the drive over with, "This the right amount, right?"

"Looks like it," Muhammad finished, "Where are you keeping the rest?"

"The warehouse," Donte answered, "Like we discussed."

"Good," Muhammad sighed, "It's safe, the warehouse?"

"It's a little late for that, don't you think?" Charlie scoffed.

"Next time, load more shit, you know, the other stuff. If we get stopped and the truck is not too loaded, they might bother to check every box. If it's a whole lot of shit, they won't, trust me."

Charlie and Donte weren't too keen about receiving such instructions from someone that viewed as their peer and in Charlie's case younger than him but they nodded as this was his area of expertise, not theirs.

"Let's go," Muhammad hopped out of the back of the truck, "They're expecting us."



"Where would we even park this shit in the city?"

"I'm sure they have covered parking lots and shit," Charlie shrugged, "It's not like the dope is still in the truck."

"I don't know," Donte wasn't convinced, "I don't like the idea of staying in the city any more than we need to, especially with the truck. It's one thing to get stopped going into the city or back from it but staying in the city with a truck from Port Town, what would our reason and excuse be when they ask?"

"We got tired during the drive," Charlie provided an answer, "Which is fucking true, by the way. I'm just saying, Mo had the right idea, spending the night in the city and making a trip out of it."

"A bit too friendly if you ask me," Donte hadn't appreciated Muhammad's chatty nature that made the hour long drive feel lengthy. His girlfriend stayed in the city and he was eager to meet her to say the least which he explained in graphic details.

"If he can be in some pussy tonight, so can we. You know I can get us into something tonight."

"You're acting like you don't have something lined up back home," Donte replied, "I'm not even talking about your girl, either."

"Elena? I already fucked her this week, can't go back this soon, it creates issues."

"Pick one motherfucker," Donte chuckled, "I know the great Charlie DiMeo ain't dry out here."

"Fuck you," Charlie laughed, "We could even stop by Jamie's, don't she live around here?"

"I think so," Donte pondered as he looked for the nearest exit sign to get a bearing on where he was at. At first, it didn't dawn on him but then it eventually settled in, "How do you know that?"

Charlie was flustered initially but quickly thought of something, "I think you mentioned it or something, on the way up."

Donte was sure he hadn't, especially not with Muhammad in the car.

"She might have said something about it when we met at the club that day," Charlie quickly corrected himself, "Those bitches were bad bro, Tess was on you that night."

It didn't escape Donte that Charlie had quickly tried to change the subject but it worked as Tess' model-esque figure was now all that was on Donte's mind. He had failed to close the deal with her that night as she joined the brigade of women that went with Charlie as the night ended. He couldn't have possibly fucked them all and Donte reveled at the chance to make his fantasy come true. He also had never bedded two women in the same week, yet alone two women that looked like Dania and Tess.

"Fuck it," Donte took the nearest exit ramp, "Where do they stay at?"

Topic author
Soapy
Posts: 7113
Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 18:42

The Moolie of Port Town.

Post by Soapy » 26 Jan 2022, 10:45

"A good week of business," Bruce boasted as he repeatedly counted the money that was in front of him.

As a worker under his younger brother Vincent and most recently with him overseeing the robberies that Donte and Charlie had been pulling off for the past two years, Bruce had been around his share of good scores and had seen plenty of cash on a table. But this was different, this was his, all of it was.

The deal with the Pakistanis had been fruitful and unlike most dealings, a smooth one. There weren't any constant back and forth about agreeing to a new agreement which then raised concerns about past agreements or light envelopes and even worse, missed payments. Everything went according to plan as far as scheduled drop offs, pickups and most importantly, payments. The Pakistanis were real businessmen, something Bruce appreciated as he viewed himself, having ran a legitimate warehouse operation for years, as one as well.

Bruce counted another stack of bills before sliding it across towards Donte and another towards Charlie. They were appreciative and said as much but Charlie gave Donte a lingering look as the only inconsistent portion of the operation was their cut of the deal which varied from week to week, depending on Bruce's mood that day.

"Have you done the pickups for this week yet?" Bruce asked Donte despite sitting in front of a mountain of cash.

"Not yet," Donte replied.

"What are you waiting on? It's almost Thursday, I told you to keep it like clockwork. If you can't handle it.."

"We had two trips this week already," Donte explained, "Plus you had me meeting with the Puerto Ricans, about the suits."

"I had you doing your job," Bruce quickly spat back, "But you're right, we're spreading thin with this shit. I mean half the extra storage around here is full of their shit."

Bruce had always been short on man power. There were a few guys that worked in the warehouse that he trusted to do a job here and there but his recruiting abilities were limited and they would always tell him 'thanks but no thanks' in the end or end up working with Michael instead.

"We need guys," Bruce told them both as they sat across him in his office, "Charlie, you used to run over there in East Bay right?"

"Yeah," Charlie responded. He was born and raised in East Bay before a fun night in Port Town with a capo's daughter changed his life forever.

"Four, six guys, that should do it right?" Bruce was now speaking to Charlie exclusively.

"I don't even think we need that much," Charlie looked over towards Donte who avoided eye contact, "Maybe two, three guys. The Arabs, they'll get a little Nervous Nelly if we introduced too many new faces, you know, they're still on the edge about the whole shit with ICE."

"Now these guys," Bruce leaned in, "They don't know any of our friends, right?"

"No," Charlie quickly replied back, "Good luck finding a decent ziti over there."

"Alright," Bruce nodded his head, proud of his new plan, "Discretion still needs to be applied here."

"Of course."

"Get three guys, school them up but not too much, you understand me? Now, this isn't a permission slip to fuck off, I still want you guys on a couple of those trips, it's important to me and it'll be important to the Arabs as well."

The trio continued to discuss other dealings as they were still in the business of making trucks disappear. It was peanuts compared to their newfound venture but it kept Charlie and Donte's pockets well lined and Bruce was never one to turn down easy money. Once the discussions wrapped up, Donte and Charlie were dismissed as the day shift at the warehouse had arrived and Bruce had other responsibilities to attend to.

"If you know any guys as well, let me know. I just hope he doesn't think it's going to come out of our end," Charlie told Donte after they left his office.

"Whatever," Donte replied back as he was still seething inside, "He asked you to do it, not me, so figure that shit out. If it comes to it, it's coming out your end since its your guys."

While Bruce might have had legitimate reasons to ask Charlie, not Donte, for his help in recruiting other guys, he still felt slighted. Charlie had out of town connections which Donte didn't and Charlie's friends were more likely to be of the correct hue. Donte would even had been okay with it if Bruce had asked him to ask Charlie but he didn't. Donte took it as a personal affront that he was passed over as despite his treatment at the hands of Bruce, he always thought Bruce viewed him as a confidant, a protégé of sorts while Charlie was just the hired help.



Donte didn't bat an eye at the bill that was in front of him as he placed several hundred dollar bills on the table and got up, extending his hand out which Dania quickly grabbed as she also rose up.

He had briefly worked at Dickey's Steakhouse when he was in high school at the behest of Aunt Jenny but like most of his jobs during that time period, it didn't last long. The sight of wet, mushed and half-eaten food that he was responsible for scrapping off dishes and washing them gave him an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. He left after just a few weeks, not even bothering to return to collect his final paycheck. It wasn't lost on him that he had finally returned and spent more money than what was previously owed to him.

"The lobster mac was really good," Dania commented as they walked out, "I'm too full to even be working in a couple hours, they're going to get some lazy ass performances from me tonight."

"Just don't go," Donte replied which he had suggested multiple times throughout the night.

"It's not that easy," Dania sighed, "I know it looks like we're all friends up there but it's a jungle in there. I mean, Elena is my bestie of course but the rest of the girls? They see you missing nights, that just adds ammo in their gun for drama later one."

"I don't see the big deal of missing just one night, it's not like you're hurting for money, right?"

"It's my job," she scoffed, "You don't see me asking you to not work or do whatever it is that you do."

"It's not the same," Donte dismissed her comment.

"Why not?"

"We're not doing this," Donte shook it off as they arrived to his car, "If you want to go, go, clearly you really want to go dance for a bunch of niggas."

"Boy, fuck you."

She began to walk away from him but he reached out and gently grabbed her wrist, "Hey, hey, hey, I'm sorry, okay? I just wanted to spend some time with you tonight, that's all."

"And you did," she lowered her voice, "But this is important to me, okay? I'm not one of these girls that drops everything they have because of a guy, even if he's great."

"Of course," Donte said defensively, "You know I want you to have your own thing."

"If it's not too late," she sighed, "I can try to swing by after I'm done tonight, if you're still up."

"For sure," Donte opened the door for her.



The smell of hookah, cigarettes, marijuana, and Black and Mild made Donte nauseous as he sat in the booth, a hoodie covering his head and most of his face. What he had been observing for the better part of two hours didn't help matters either.

"You want some company, honey?" asked one of the girls as she came over and sat on Donte's lap.

He shook his head once more and she went about her way, wondering when they were going to get the hint that he wasn't interested in any of them. He took another sip of his drink which was now more melted ice than cognac and decided to finish it off.

It was just in time as the group of three men he had been watching appeared to be getting ready to leave. They had spent at least a few thousand dollars, all on one girl who was now bending over and scooping up the money together. One of the men from the group, who was wearing a pink hoodie, took the opportunity to slap her on the ass, sticking another dollar bill on her glittered buttocks.

"You're a wild one," said the familiar face, putting her fingernail underneath his chin and guiding his lips towards her before pulling her face away at the last minute, "You boys are welcomed back anytime, just ask for Dani."

Much to their amusement, she had towed that line the entire night.

"Oh, we will," said another one of them as the rest took turns feeling up on her one last time.

The one in the pink hoodie separated from the group and headed towards the bar, ordering up a drink that appeared to be water. He didn't drink as much as the rest did throughout the night which Donte figured meant he was the designated driver and he was as he headed for the door with the keys in his hand while the rest lingered around the ground floor some more.

Donte moved swiftly as he got up out of his seat, taking his eyes off her for the first time that night and went down the stairs that led to the ground floor and then scurried out the door. He caught up with the gentleman in the pink hoodie who was looking for his car in the darkly lit parking lot. Even though he hadn't been drinking as much as the others, he appeared to be stumbling as he went down each aisle of cars looking for the right one. Given his drunken state, Donte thought for a second about letting nature take its course but he pushed on, picking up the pace as he approached him.

Donte pulled his right shoulder with his right hand, turning him around and threw a quick, short jab with his left fist which landed flush and caused him to stumble a few steps back. The man was still disoriented when Donte followed up with a straight cross, this time causing him to fall on the ground.

He was holding his face when Donte jumped on top of him, landing blows after blows, only stopping briefly to regain his breath. Donte's knuckles began to bleed themselves, adding to the pool of blood that was on the pink hooded gentleman's face. Before Donte could land another one, he felt a tight sensation around his neck and next thing he knew, he was being dragged away from his target.

At first, he thought it was security but the ensuing fists and feet that rained down upon him quickly dissipated that thought. His friends, despite being drunk, had come to his rescue and were now beating the breaks off Donte who could only roll around to cover his head as they had now shifted their attention to kicking him directly in the stomach and back.

The commotion increased as Donte could hear new voices joining the altercation, whooping and hollering from the sidelines. They stopped for a brief moment and when Donte looked up, they had gone over to the aid of their friend who he had attacked who was throwing up on the floor. It seemed like the entire club was now in the parking lot as Donte began scanning faces, trying to see if a particular one was in the crowd.

What he saw instead was a hefty gentleman in a suit headed towards him and that's when he mustered up his remaining energy and took off on foot, leaving his car behind.
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Caesar
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The Moolie of Port Town.

Post by Caesar » 27 Jan 2022, 06:40

This man a whole simp. :smh:

Topic author
Soapy
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Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 18:42

The Moolie of Port Town.

Post by Soapy » 27 Jan 2022, 16:38

Caesar wrote:
27 Jan 2022, 06:40
This man a whole simp. :smh:
we've all been there, tough break for the young lad

Topic author
Soapy
Posts: 7113
Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 18:42

The Moolie of Port Town.

Post by Soapy » 27 Jan 2022, 19:45

"This is really good," Donte looked up from his plate and said to no one in particular, his eyes wandering to everyone's plate to make sure he was pacing himself and didn't come off as famished.

"Just something quick," the brown-skinned, middle aged woman got up and went over to the stove, bringing the pot of rice and chicken with her back to the table.

"I'm good," Donte held his hands up but she insisted, giving him another serving.

"Nonsense," Nadine smiled towards Donte, "Don't tell me you're like her, always watching her figure."

"Absolutely not," Donte teased Dania who was stifling a laugh with a mouthful of food, "I will say that while she stays away from my cooking, if we go out to eat, she's not scared of the fork either and I love it."

"Stop it," she managed to get out as she leaned her head back, continuing her fight to hold back her laugh.

"Now," Nadine cleared her throat upon returning to her seat, "She told me you were friends with Charlie so I assumed you were, you know, Italian...."

"I am," he replied back to see a puzzling face now staring back at him, as was usually the case, "Half, my father was Italian, my mom...clearly not."

"Oh so you're from here?" her eyebrows rose up.

While Port Town was a town, it really was two towns separated by a bridge and far much more. The colored folks stayed on the east side of the bridge and everyone else on the west side, primarily the Italians and the Irish. It was probably for the best as the town avoided a lot of racially charged riots that took place in towns all across America throughout the 60s and early 70s. The black and brown folks had their side of town and the whites had theirs with both living in relative harmony, a bastardized version of Martin's dream.

"Yeah," he nodded, "I mean, we moved around and sh..stuff but for the most part."

"So your daddy, he's full Italian?"

"Mom!" Dania had been pretty quiet throughout the dinner, giving them an opportunity to get to know each other but she was now getting irritated on Donte's behalf.

"What?" Nadine was genuinely confused, "I'm just wondering what kind of food he cooks."

"It's okay," Donte re-assured, his background naturally made people curious, "Yeah, he is or was, he died before I was born."

"I'm sorry," she sucked her teeth, "That must have been really hard on your mother, bless her heart."

"Jesus Christ," Dania sighed in frustration.

"What?"

"My mom died when I was young too," Donte said with a smile, trying to soften the awkwardness.

"My daughter's right," she threw her hands up, "I should just shut my mouth."

They sat in silence for a while before Nadine perked up again, "Your dad wasn't...Johnny by any chance, was he?"

"Mollicone?" Donte was now the intrigued party.

"Goodness gracious," Nadine pushed her chair away from the table, "You have got to be kidding me!"

Dania looked on nervously, not sure what was happening and neither did Donte.

"You're Johnny's and Donna's kid? What?!"

Donte hadn't met a lot of people that knew his father outside of the life and certainly not many that knew both his mother and father.

"I knew it," she sat back down and grabbed ahold of Donte's hand, "As soon as you said you were half Italian and started talking, I felt it in my soul and my daughter is going to think I'm crazy and you too. Look at this crazy ass Puerto Rican lady but I'm telling you, I just felt it!"

"You knew them?" Donte felt that that was the only logical words that could come out of his mouth next.

"Knew them? We used to go clubbing together!" she exclaimed.

The tension in the room lowered and it was most noticeable on Dania's face who literally exhaled quietly. She already had reservations about bring her quasi-black, quasi-boyfriend over to meet her mother.

"Pero, I was really friends with Taryn who was friends with Donna, your mother. They went to high school together."

"Auntie Taryn?" Dania asked.

"Yes, girl! Anyway, Taryn introduced me one of these days to this beautiful hunk of a man, I mean broad shoulders, strong facial features, just the total package. We're at this bar and I'm chatting him up, chatting him up, I keep waiting for this guy to ask for my number, like I'm really putting it on him."

"Gross, mom."

"Girl, I looked just as good as you back then and in those days, that was before fake asses were a thing so there weren't a lot of girls that looked like me."

"This is soooo embarassing."

"I'm thinking 'is he gay or something?' and out of nowhere, this girl with the sweetest eyes ever joins us at the bar and he just leaves me, doesn't even say bye, just walks up and goes over to her. That's when Taryn introduced me to her as her friend Donna from high school and this guy I've been flirting with is her boyfriend, Johnny!"

"That's crazy," Donte was genuinely amazed.

His father's existence had been shrunk by those around Donte as just a throw-away line during conversations and Aunt Jenny didn't like talking about him either. Bobby would mention his late brother now and then when Donte was younger but as he got older, he was discussed less and less. His mother had it even worse as her name was never mentioned around any of the guys, not even with Bobby and Donte could tell it was still a sore subject with his aunt.

"It was the seventies so I'd always just bump into them," she continued to reminisce, "Not everybody had house phones back then, at least we didn't but yeah, we went clubbing a couple of times. Again, this was the seventies, I don't have to tell you, wherever they went, people were looking. He was so in love with her. I was jealous, I'd be honest. I mean, back then, I had just met her father and he was a piece of shit."

"Mom," Dania shot her mother a side-eye.

"He was," she shrugged, "We don't have to lie about it, it's okay. But yeah, your parents were quite the couple, so beautiful. We just sort of lost touch after a while, I don't think Taryn was around her much either during that period until she told me what had happened, it was really sad."

The trio sat there in silence with Dania occasionally pushing her food around on her plate with her fork. The silence finally broke as the door swung open, revealing the final member of her family.

"What is this? It's almost nine o'clock," Nadine's words didn't stop her son's beeline towards his room. She sucked her teeth as she got up and opened the fridge, taking out a container and sticking it inside the microwave.

The teenage boy reappeared from his room, donning new clothes and reeking of a mixture of marijuana and cheap cologne. She acted like she didn't smell him but it was obvious on her face as she hugged him.

"You told me you were making arroz con pollo this morning," he kissed her on the cheek as he stood over the empty stove, "Que pasa?"

"We eat dinner here every night at the same time," she chastised him, causing him to leave her side and take her seat at the table.

"At least I show up here every night," he shot right back, looking at his sister after his statement.

He returned his eyes to Donte, sizing him up and Donte did the same. They weren't that far apart in age but his poor attempt at a goatee gave away his younger age.

"Quien es este tipo?"

"I told you," Dania snapped at him, "This is Donte, mi novio."

Donte's ears perked up, this was a dinner full of revelations.

"Oye, que lindo! What's up, bro?"

"I'm good, man, how about you?"

"I'm Danny," he looked over to his sister, "The real one."

"Daniel," Dania corrected him, adding the appropriate Latino flair to his name.

"This the fool that ate up all of our food?" Danny's joke broke through to Donte who busted out in laughter although neither Dania nor Nadine found it funny.

"Don't encourage him," Nadine replied from in front of the microwave, "That slick mouth of his needs some taste of his own blood."

"It's okay," Donte stood up, giving Dania the queue that he was ready to leave, "I can't cook like your mother but I owe you dinner one of these days."

"Look at this nigga playing step pops," Danny pointed at Donte as he once again shot Dania a glare.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Enough!" Nadine shouted, joining her daughter, "Just go have dinner in your room if you can't act like you have some sense."

"It's all good, I'm heading out anyway, I'm late for a meet. It was good to meet you guys and I had a really good time," Donte extended his hand out, still trying to get a read on her shithead little brother.

"I'm just fucking with you," Danny shook his hand, getting up to finish the dap, "Got to keep it light."

Donte smiled before hugging Nadine, who told him he was welcomed back for dinner anytime. He got the distinct feeling that the message was intended for both him and Dania.

Dania escorted him out of the apartment before they shared a lingering goodbye kiss, perhaps the acknowledgement of her recent declaration of him as her boyfriend. She returned back inside to find his brother eating his dinner while her mother finally got to enjoy her cigarette along with a nightcap.

"I noticed that black eye and those bruises on his face," she muttered loud enough for her to hear, "A meet at this time? He's one of those, huh? You always liked 'em."



Michael was his father's son, after all.

The young Michael Corleone of Port Town paced back and forth inside Bobby's trailer with all of the crew gone home for the day. It was just Bobby, Robbie and the incessant ball of rage that was Michael. He muttered cuss words between heavy breaths while Bobby tried to figure out exactly what had happened.

"So...he bought her a gift?"

"You keeping saying gift!" Michael yelled, bringing his tone down once he remembered who he was talking to, godfather or not, "It wasn't a gift, Bobby, it was a piece of jewelry."

"Like a...ring or something?" Bobby was dumbfounded by what had been brought to his doorstep. Based on Michael's tone on the phone, he figured it was time to hit the mattresses.

"And a necklace," Michael held up his index finger, "The long ones, that look like chandeliers".

"I think those are called drapes," Robbie chimed in.

"I don't think so," Bobby pondered, "Those are more like those circle ones, where it's a big circle and then a smaller one and a smaller one."

"Why is here?" Michael pointed towards Robbie.

"Relax," Bobby instructed Michael to sit down and with the same hand, gestured for Robbie to take a walk which he did, leaving just the two of them inside, "He's a good kid, he was just trying to help."

"I know," Michael sighed, "I'll apologize to him later, he's a good shit. It's just my fucking uncle!"

"Join the club," Bobby poured Michael a drink, "But I'll be honest here, Mike, I don't see it."

"You don't buy a widow that kind of gift," Michael insisted.

"Why not? That's his sister basically."

"Would you buy your wife's sister that gift? Huh? The kind of gift that's going to lay across her chest and bring attention to her breast? She's a fucking widow! Your fucking dead's brother wife? My father?"

"Fair enough," Bobby conceded, "It was probably an oversight."

"Bullshit," Michael kept pressing on, "If it was cheap, that's one thing. It wasn't, I'm telling you, that cost him at least six, seven grand."

"No way, that cheap fuck? No fucking way."

"Exactly," Michael leaned in, "Where the fuck is that guy getting that money from?"

"I haven't thought about it."

"Think about it now. really, think about it. Your nephew?"

"I don't know," Bobby shook his head, "From my understanding, things are good, you know, just good."

"I didn't say it at the time out of respect," Michael place his hands on his chest, "It ain't right what Bruce did, with your nephew. The fucking Driving Miss Daisy shit he pulled over a joint getting robbed? Despicable."

"I didn't view it that way," Bobby defended both Bruce and himself, since they both had agreed to it, "He had a debt to pay off and he did it."

"Tenfold," Michael pushed his index finger against the table, "I saw him a few months ago, buying an apartment."

"Oh, yeah?"

"One of the properties my pops ran," Michael raised his brow, "These are nice apartments, Bobby, not "just good" apartments."

"Leave that alone," Bobby suggested, "The kid's a natural earner, what can I say?"

"He's your blood, that's why. I hope I'm not speaking out of turn but my old man would tell me that even Johnny, on his worst days, was making money, cash over fist."

"Went right up his nose."

"But he earned and you earned and would you look at that? The kid's a fucking earner too, just like me, just like my dad."

"And your uncle?"

"A leech, plain and simple, he didn't grow up like us. You get your nephew in here, with you and the shit you got going on, you wouldn't be fucking waiting around for contracts and bids from Al."

"You're speaking a bit too freely, my boy."

"No disrespect meant," Michael leaned away from the table, "I just hate to see good talent wasted, that's all. He'd paid his debt, Bobby."



"I don't want a shot."

"Why not?"

"Because," Donte pushed Charlie's hand away aggressively enough that some of the tequila inside of the shot glass spilled over on his hand.

Charlie dried his hands off by flicking his hands in the air before wiping it down using his pants as he glared at Donte through his eyebrows. He licked the rest off and poured himself another shot. He patted Donte on the back and guided him inside of the apartment where two guys were sitting on separate couches, watching but not really watching the TV as it played the evening news.

"Hey," Charlie said loudly, "This is Donte, the guy I was telling you about."

"My man," one of them got up and shook his hand, "Dexter."

The other simply nodded and they bumped fists, "Poz"

"Poz?" Donte wanted to be sure.

"Just call him Shaun," Charlie quickly interjected, "Stop trying to make 'Poz' a thing, no one is going to call you that, it sounds fucking weird."

"Whatever you want," Donte told him.

"Fine," Shaun took a sip of his beer, "We need to be Italian for these jobs anyway, right? Shouldn't my name be Mario or something?"

"Mario and Luigi," Dexter made himself laugh.

Donte was dissapointed by the characters that Charlie had recruited and wasn't hiding it well as he glared over at Charlie who simply shook his head.

"Just shut up," Charlie took a seat next to Dexter, "If it's the same guy as usual, he'll talk your ears off so he probably won't even have time to remember your name. You run with us, you've been running with us, they're fucking Arabs so we're all just white guys to them."

"They're from Pakistan," Donte corrected him.

"What's the difference?" Charlie asked.

"Given their propensity to just say whatever they're thinking, we probably want to make sure that if they are going to not shut up and say shit, that they don't say anything that might offend our business partners."

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Charlie stood up and walked over to the kitchen, not waiting for Donte's answer.

Donte followed him there, "Yeah?"

"What the fuck is with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You get here, I offer you a drink since clearly you had a tough day looking at your face. Someone gave you shit during your pickups...what?"

"No," Donte waved him off, "Just...tired, you know, you had me drive all the way out to EB to meet these slap dicks?"

"Did you want to meet them at your apartment? Or would you rather my house, with my fucking pregnant wife and kid? Oh, better yet, just anywhere in town where someone might recognize us?"

"Recognize us?" Donte scoffed, "What are you talking about? Even if they did, so what? You're sounding like Bruce, all paranoid and shit."

"You're the one with a stick up their ass about Arabs and Pakistan, like, who gives a fuck?"

"Sorry for wanting to keep the money flowing and avoid having your dumbass friends ruin this shit for us."

"They are dumb," Charlie agreed with him with a smile, causing Donte to crack one as well. Charlie placed his hand on Donte's shoulder and brought him in for a hug, "Come on, what are we doing here?"

"I had dinner with Dania's family," Donte sighed.

"That's a good thing, right? I, mean, I wouldn't do that but you're a good guy, you know? That seems like the shit the good guys do on TV."

"It's complicated," Donte didn't feel like talking about it, "We're good here? They're solid?"

"They're too dumb to play us," Charlie assured him, "Not dumb enough to fuck shit up, though. We're talking about a four, four and a half hour car ride with the loading and unloading. It's not a lot, don't tell Bruce this but really anyone can do it."

"Until they can't," Donte interjected, "If shit was to go down, you trust these guys?"

"Shit has gone down," Charlie put his arm around Donte and led him back to the living room, "And we're all fucking still here, aren't we?"
Last edited by Soapy on 05 Apr 2022, 08:56, edited 2 times in total.

Topic author
Soapy
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The Moolie of Port Town.

Post by Soapy » 19 Feb 2022, 13:55

Donte felt nauseous as around him was half-eaten containers of food on the kitchen counter and clothes on the living room floor. The only guy that Donte had ever met that was neater than him was Bruce but that was well gone now as Bruce frantically tried to find his watch in the midst of the junk.

"You're just going to stand there?" Bruce looked up from all fours on the floor.

Donte sighed before lazily turning his body in a circle as he tried to spot it, "The gold one, right?"

"Yeah," Bruce groaned as he got up off the floor, "I wore it last night, it should be here."

"Did you check your jacket?"

"My fucking jacket," Bruce shook his head as he paced into his bedroom and came out with the watch, buckling it to his wrist.



"It means a lot that you're here," Lorenzo interrupted the usual tableside chatter with his loud booming voice, addressing Bruce who he had shrewdly placed at the other end of the table, at the head.

"It's not every day you get to see an occasion like this," Bruce raised his glass, drinking from it before everyone else got a chance to raise theirs as well, "I've been meaning to check out your new spot, it's good, it's...good."

"We really do appreciate it," Angela, Lorenzo's wife, chimed in.

Bruce was putting on a brave face but Donte could tell every minute spent in that house was torture for him. Bruce never really got into it with Donte but from what he could surmise from various conversations over the years, Lorenzo was one of the guys that jumped ship from under Bruce to go work for Michael, a decision that paid off based on his new house out in the suburbs of Port Town. Lorenzo used to drive Bruce, just like Donte, and even got a job at the warehouse, just like Donte.

"I think you'll appreciate the backyard," Lorenzo got up, "Angela got a nice flower garden going out there, it's beautiful. I'll show you around."

As the two men left the table, the rest of the table started to clear out with the women in attendance gathering the dishes while the other men went out for a smoke. The only ones remaining at the table were Donte and Michael, who had been shooting him daggers all night.

"You like the Knicks?" Michael finally asked him, "I've been trying to think all night if I've seen you before with a Knicks hat or some shit before."

"Not really," Donte shrugged, a bit relieved to find out the reason why Michael had been staring at him, "Not really much of a basketball fan, to be honest."

"Football guy?"

"Jets," Donte nodded.

"I don't know about this Groh guy," Michael wondered out loud, "I feel like we were right there with Parcells, you know?"

"I think we'll be alright," Donte started to relax.

"Anyway, I got these tickets to see the Knicks play at the Garden, can't make it. You want them?"

It was an offer Donte couldn't refuse. While he had doubts about Michael's generosity, he also knew that him turning them down would be a sign of disrespect.

"Thank you but I'm really not a basketball fan," Donte forced a laugh, "I don't want to waste them."

"Come on," Michael insisted, "Make a night out of it, you've got a girlfriend, right?"

Donte nodded his head.

"Trust me," Michael moved from his seat to the one closest to Donte, "These are good seats, she's not going to be able to keep her hands off you after."

"I appreciate it," Donte caved in, grabbing the tickets from Michael's hand.



"I'm trusting you guys with my life here," Charlie reiterated before pointing to the upcoming red light, "Make a left at the light."

"We're just driving a truck to a specified location," Shaun scoffed, "You really think we're retarded or something?"

"I don't think that," Charlie looked at him, "I know that. I've seen you both sniff glue a bunch of times, you know that, right?"

"We were like six," Dexter laughed, "You can't hold that against us."

"Yeah, aight."

"Only one of us has fucked retarded pussy," Shaun finally thought of a comeback, "And it's not me and it's not Dex."

"The shit ain't contagious," Charlie was unfazed, "I also vividly remember you guys trying to join."

"I'm pretty sure that's illegal in some countries," Shaun shook his head.

"She was with it," Charlie continued to defend his actions, "She wasn't full retarded, just a bit slow. She had classes with you, Dexter."

"Fuck you," he held back his laugh.

"Right there," Charlie told them as Shaun brought the truck to a stop, unsure where exactly Charlie was going, "Go straight to Port Town, no stops, no nothing."

"There's nothing even here anymore," Dexter assured him, "How are you even going to get back home?"

"Worry about yourselves," Charlie hopped out and closed the door behind him.

It was nearly one in the morning but there was still a buzz in the street as people were making their way home and loud music could be heard from some of the apartment buildings. Charlie followed a familiar route to the building of his conquest, going up the elevator before arriving at his destination.

He knocked quietly but with a purpose, keeping his head on a swivel as he awaited for the door to open.

"Took you long enough," Jamie said with a smile before pulling him inside.



"Tacky furniture," Bruce said with disgust as he got into the front passenger seat, "All white everything, who the fuck does he think he is?"

Donte kept his mouth shut whenever Bruce was getting ready to go on a rant as he knew more was to come. However, instead, Bruce dipped his index finger into a bag he pulled from his coat pocket before rubbing it against his gums. He did it a few times before taking a deep breath and laying back against the seat as the car went into motion.

Donte was left speechless, literally, as he began to drive. He had seen Bruce hit the bottle hard a few times and he'd smoke a cigarette or two in social settings but he had never seen him get anywhere near drugs, not even the ones that they were in charge of distributing.

"And the garden? How pretentious. I watched that kid grow up, okay, that ain't him. He's probably over his head on the mortgage already, I know Michael isn't paying him shit."

Donte's wishes that that name wouldn't come up tonight was quickly broken.

"I saw you two get cozy with each other," Bruce changed his tone to a more interrogating one.

"Yeah," Donte pondered telling a fib but thought better against it since Bruce would find out anyway, "He was giving away these Knicks tickets, you know, tried to get out of it but thought he might take offense to it if I did."

"Fucking weasel cunt," Bruce seethed, dipping his finger one more time before putting the bag away, "You know what that's about right?"

"You know me," Donte tried to cool down the situation, "I try to stay out of it."

"As soon as you start making money and I'm talking real fucking money here, Mollicone, they're going to come for you, you hear me? All of them, all those fucking shit bags that sit around a fucking table and have dinner with you and pass the fucking salad, they're all cunts. That family shit doesn't mean shit, alright, it means jack shit."

"I feel you."

"They're circling, all of them, right now, especially Michael. It's just us, Mollicone, it's just us, not even Charlie. Where the fuck is he right now, huh?"

"He's doing a drop, cap."

"He's not like us," Bruce dismissed it, "He's going to circle too, they're all going to. When they see the money, they circle, they're fucking animals."

Donte was taken aback given that Bruce had just entrusted Charlie with the expansion of the crew. It must have been the alcohol and the other substances talking.

"I don't know about this shit anymore, with the Pakistanis, with everything. It's like Hitler, you know, in Germany and Russia and all of that shit during the World War."

"Hitler?" Donte thought to himself.

"We should have just kept it with the robberies," Bruce nodded to himself, "It wasn't this money but it was good money, easy money."

Donte wasn't sure about that given it was Charlie and himself who put their necks on the line every time they jumped into the cargo of a truck.

"Drugs, it all goes to shit when you start pushing that shit, just ask your father. That's right! You fucking can't! You start moving that poison and it rotten everything around, everyone around you. He was ready to flip on this whole fucking family because of this shit, on his own fucking brother."

Donte's mouth couldn't get any dryer as he didn't make a sound, unsure what to take in as drunk lips telling sober thoughts and what to take in as just drunken, confused words.

"And from that same fucking soil, came Bobby, fucking Bobby. You see how it works, right? You get it now? One goes down, another comes up. My brother goes away and here comes his fucking son, trying to take his spot. Well, it's my turn now bitch."

Topic author
Soapy
Posts: 7113
Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 18:42

The Moolie of Port Town.

Post by Soapy » 09 Mar 2022, 12:52

An update by EOD. Promise.
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