The Moolie.

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Post by Soapy » 28 Jan 2019, 09:02

"I like his hair."

Donte let out an audible sigh of frustration as yet another set of pasty white fingers went through his curls. He forced a smile before taking a sip of his drink, hiding his face behind his cup. He felt physically restless and had to fight the urge to just get up and leave. After all, this had became his house and the last time he took a glance at his room, several people were standing right in front of the doorway.

Ronny had suggested they throw a 'little' party with some of the people from their neighborhood, sort of an ode to the approaching spring and warmer weather. It really was to celebrate that they had successfully managed to steal about two kilos of heroin from the biggest drug dealer of Port Town. Now, it was just a waiting game as Donte tried to figure out how exactly he was going to be able to sell those drugs back to Bernard and Miles without being exposed and his brains being plastered on the sidewalk the next time he came back to the East.

"He doesn't buy me any of the nice jewelry," Sofia complained to her group of friends as she grabbed a fistful of the gold chains that hung from Charlie's next, "He keeps it all to himself."

"Look at her wrist," Charlie defended himself as he held her wrist up to reveal a pink, diamond bracelet.

"My Ronny doesn't buy me anything at all," Beatrice said with pure disgust in her voice. Sofia might have said it tongue in cheek but Beatrice seemed to mean it as she rolled her eyes and started gawking at Ronny who was hanging around the kitchen, taking shots with some of the fellas.

"Let's not turn this into a men bashing session," Charlie smirked.

"What about you, Donti? You treating your girl right?" Sofia focused her attention to Donte, who was sort of hanging out in the background.

"It's Donte," Donte corrected her with a soft tone, "And I don't have a girl to treat right or badly so I guess no?"

"He's kind of funny," Sofia remarked as she sort of held her drink up, "Beatrice, why don't you ditch Ronny for...I'm sorry, it's what again?"

"It's Donte," Charlie interjected, "And trust me, Donte, you don't want to go anywhere that Ronny's been."

"Fuck you Charles!" Beatrice said as she threw one of the ice cubes towards Charlie but he managed to duck from it.

"Settle down kids," Sofia put her hand on Beatrice's shoulder, "Why don't you get her another drink, Charlie? Reparations."

Sofia sort of made lingering eye contact with Donte following her last comment. No one had mentioned it -- besides the constant touching of his hair -- but Donte certainly felt that his presence had created quite a bit of tension. The alcohol had sort of eased it for a while but he could still feel it. The wandering eyes. The snide comments. Donte wasn't that hard of a fucking name to remember either.

"Let's go," Charlie tapped Donte on the shoulder as he got up, wise enough to realize that leaving Donte alone with that pack of girls would be throwing him to the wolves.

They walked towards the kitchen and met back up with Ronny and Camilla, Charlie's older sister. She was a few years older than Charlie but they looked like a spiting image of each other, especially when Charlie let his hair down and cascade over his face like he had today.

"Let me get something sweet and then something that's going to get me fucked up," Charlie placed his shoulder around his sister and pecked her on the cheek.

"Whose your friend?" Camilla asked, motioning towards Donte.

"That's Donte," Charlie said dismissively, something Donte did pick up on.

"Hey Donte," she reached her hand out. Donte obliged and shook her hand, following it up with a head nod, "What are you having?"

"I'm fine," Donte raised his cup that was about halfway finished.

Camilla finished whipping up the two drinks. He had stricken up a conversation with Ronny and had his back turn to both Camilla and Donte.

"Rude," she scoffed as she turned and placed the two cups on the counter and refocused her energy towards Donte, "You never asked for my name."

"It's Camilla," Donte nodded.

"Stalker much?"

"I'm sorry," Donte laughed, for the first time all night. "Charlie told me, well, he was just talking about you coming down from college and everything."

"What about you?"

"What about me, what?"

" do you do?"

"I, sort, of......"

"Waste management?" Camilla scoffed, "You didn't look like the type but you're with Dicky so I guess you are the type."

"Who's Dicky?" Donte asked, slightly puzzled by the interaction in general.

"My little brother," she replied, "We used to call him Dicky, you know, growing up and shit but then he got to high school and kids started picking on him. That's when 'Charlie' was born. No one fucking calls him Charlie in our house, he's Dicky."

"I think I'll pass on calling him that," Donte responded as he took another sip of his drink.

"Let me fix you up something," she said as she grabbed the drink right out of his mouth, "What offensive, highly racist nickname have they given you?"

"They haven't," Donte's tone changed.

"Believe it or not," she handed him back an orange colored drink, "Dicky's best friend growing up was this Asian kid so when they got older, he brought him around some of his other friends. You know, the Italian kids from the neighborhood. They'd call him 'Chino'' which wasn't even just offensive but also wrong because I'm pretty sure he was like Cambodian or some shit."

"This is pretty good," Donte said as he took a sip, happy to change the conversation.

"Don't sound too surprised," she gave him a light jab to the arm, "I bar-tend in college, it helps keeps the bills paid."

"How is college?"

"You thinking about going?" she raised an eyebrow but Donte shook his head, "It's okay, it's way different than high school. I never wanted to be one of those girls that never left Port Town and married her high school boyfriend who beats her up when the spread doesn't get covered, you know?"

"That's very specific," Donte commented.

"You might say it's from experience."

"Thanks for the drinks," Charlie finally turned around and grab his drink before he started to walk back towards Sofia and her group of friends. He stopped and turn around to motion Donte to come with him.

"He's mine for the night," Camilla grabbed Donte's hand as he started to head towards Charlie, "I need help making all these drinks. Besides, I doubt he wants to hear Sofia talk all night."

"Makes two of us," Charlie smiled as he took a sip of his drink before returning en route.

"You owe me now," Camilla said as she tapped her hand on Donte's chest, "I just saved you from that bitch."

"Thank you very much," Donte smirked as he propped himself up on the kitchen counter, "How may I be of service?"

"I'll tell you when I need you," she said with a coy smile.
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Post by djp73 » 28 Jan 2019, 10:54

nice updates, i like the "action" sequences then some background mixed in

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Post by Soapy » 04 Feb 2019, 09:01


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Post by Soapy » 04 Feb 2019, 09:13

Donte took a step towards the door, knocked again and this time pressed his ear against the door to hear for any movements. There were none. He knocked a few more times, letting a few minutes go by in between knocks. Still nothing.

"I don't think he came home last night," a passing Ronny said as he got out of his room, "I think he stayed the night at his girlfriend's."

"Fuck me," Donte muttered to himself before turning around and heading into his room.

He grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder before hustling up out of the house. The morning rush and school buses had come and went the and the streets were sort of a dead zone. Donte walked down a few blocks before stopping at the bus stop just as the bus pulled up. For having such a shitty morning, it was one hell of a lucky break for him.


"No, no, no, no, no......put it back in....what......did you just cum?"

Donte groaned as he rolled away from Ms. Parker's propped up ass and into the bed.

"Oh, honey."

She got up and went into the bathroom for a few minutes as Donte tried to catch his breath. She came out with a warm cloth and cleaned him up before giving him a peck on cheek and joining him on the bed.

"Sorry about that," Donte said sheepishly as he tried to get out of the bed but she put her hand on his chest to stop him.

"You wasn't ready for it," Ms. Parker said, filled with vaginal hubris. "Them young girls might look good but they ain't got nothing on this. Which is why I don't understand why I haven't seen you around in a minute."

"Just been busy," Donte responded, still a little embarrassed.

They continued to small talk over the course of the next few minutes, outlasting his previous performance. Ms. Parker had been assigned as the lead vocal of the choir while Pastor Troy's pregnant girlfriend-that's-not-his-wife was out on maternity leave but since she's returned, Ms. Parker was relegated back to a background vocal. She thought it was nepotism as she claimed her range was wider than her. Ms. Parker had also started dating a gentleman that was quite younger than her but not as problematic young as Donte was when they first started seeing each other. He was in his 20s and by her accounts, good looking with a solid paycheck but she didn't "feel like raising another kid". Not after she did such a great job with her first one and raised the biggest drug dealer in the city. Oh and there was the issue with Mrs. Smith from across the hall. Ms. Parker frequently wore a robe and when she went to pick up her mail in the morning once, a titty may have slipped out and Mr. Smith stared a bit too long for Mrs. Smith's liking. Ever since, Ms. Parker suspected that Mrs. Smith has been reporting to the building owner about the smell of marijuana in the hallway.

"It's like nobody wants your crusty ass old nigga," she scoffed, not realizing the irony that she was likely the same age as him.

"That's crazy," Donte responded as he once again tried to get up but Ms. Parker forcibly dug her nails into his chest and brought him back down.

"I'm not done," she replied as she stuck her hand down his pants, "Giddy up."


"Hey Mrs. Smith," Donte said with a shit-eating grin as he crossed her path walking down the steps. She clutched her purse and literally raised her nose at him.

He couldn't help but let out a laugh as he got to the bottom step. Before he could turn around the corner and into the corridor that led out of the building, he felt someone walking up behind him that had came from the mailboxes.


Within seconds, Donte found himself surrounded by what seemed like at least half a dozen guys that quickly cornered him.

"What the fuck is this?"

Without a word being spoken, they took off on him. They started with blows to his heads which brought him to his knees as he tried to cover himself up. At some point, someone pulled out a blunt object that felt like the butt of a gun and started hitting Donte with it. Donte tried to squirm his way out of it but every time he would start to get away, they would throw him back up against the wall.

"Y'all bring his ass!" someone commanded from outside of the circle.

Two of the guys grabbed Donte by the shoulder and the rest got his feet as they started to drag him across the floor and into one of the apartments on the first floor. The sound of the door being slammed behind them was deafening.
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Post by djp73 » 04 Feb 2019, 10:33

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Post by djp73 » 12 Feb 2019, 07:01


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Post by Soapy » 12 Feb 2019, 22:22

djp73 wrote:
12 Feb 2019, 07:01
busy week.


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Post by Soapy » 13 Feb 2019, 08:29

"It be your own people," Miles shook his head as one of the guys picked Donte up from the floor and propped him back up into his seat.

He continued to deliver a few more blows to Donte's face before Donte once again found himself sliding off the chair. Bernard watched it all from afar, almost like a mob boss as he sat across the room in a chair that was next to the door. The apartment was completely empty outside of a few chairs and a television set that was on the floor. The television was cranked all the way up, which turned out to be a distraction all too well as even some of their guys would find themselves staring at the television screen and forgetting the task at hand.

"Hold on," Donte placed his head on the guy's chest as he held his hands up, "Wait!"

Miles motioned the guy to stop and he did, stepping back and walking towards the rest of the guys that were sort of huddled behind Donte. His face had already began to swell and his lips were all cut up. He let out a deep sigh as he scrambled for words.

"I can...." Donte muttered before being interrupted by Bernard.

"How many times I ask you to work for me, huh? Since you was in grade school nigga! But you think you too good to work for me, that's gotta be it, right? Lookie here motherfucker!"

Bernard pulled out a gun -- ironically similar to the one Miles had given Donte -- and placed it right onto Donte's forehead.

The plan had seemed so simple to Donte. Once they had the supply, they would just figure out a way to sell it back to Bernard without revealing their identities. Now, he found himself with a gun in his face. Maybe this was the figuring out part.

"Relax man," Miles said as he slowly lowered Bernard's gun, "Coleman ain't gonna rock with this shit like this, not without the shit back."

"I can get you the shit," Donte finally muttered out a full sentence.

"Well, get to telling nigga!" Bernard pressed him.

"Not here," Donte took a deep breath, "You're right, I do think I'm too good to work for you and certainly not going to negotiate with you. I want to talk to your boss, this Coleman guy?"

Donte had no idea who Coleman was and had never heard of him, he just took a wild guess.

"He's fucking with us," Bernard said with a frustration in his voice.

"Look," Donte spit out some blood, "I didn't steal from you, I really didn't steal from anybody. Now, what's in my possession isn't really yours, it's probably this Coleman person."

"Fuck you," Bernard shot back.

"Not to mention, this is more than just a fucking drive-by of some fucking stick-up kid or one of your customers that hasn't paid or a runner that's been skimming. This is some high-level shit."

"He's right," Miles whispered to Bernard, "Besides, this really is Coleman's fucking issue. It's his truck that got pinched."

"And our fucking stash houses!"

"Either way," Miles muttered, "If we do gotta take care there, I'd rather have Coleman's blessing."

Bernard brooded for about a minute before nodding his head in agreement, "We're meeting with him today anyway."

"Fuck his ass up some more," Miles added as he stared right into Donte's eyes, "Make it look like we did something first."


The house was very unassuming. It was a decent-sized family home in a relatively quiet neighborhood that based on the car ride was just about a twenty minute ride, give or take. They did have the wherewithal to blindfold Donte which made it the most uncomfortable car ride of his life. He just kept thinking about what if they had changed their minds and were driving him to his graveyard? Instead, they pulled up to a one-story home and quickly shuffled him in through the back.

"You brought guests," said a man that was in his early 30s with slick back hair. He was short and stocky with broad shoulders but was dressed to the nines.

"What's up, Skippy. Is Coleman here?" Bernard asked as he shook hands with the man. Donte would have guessed that the man in front of him was this 'Coleman'.

"What you want me for, man?"

From the other room came a tall, slender and dark-skinned man with an afro that was unkempt. He dangled a toothpick from his mouth and was twirling a knife in his right hand while he was holding a piece of chicken in his left. He took a bite of his chicken as he examined the room.

"Fuck y'all all doing here?" Coleman asked he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Miles figured you'd want to speak to him," Bernard quickly said, not hesitating to throw his partner under the bus.

"Him being?"

"Donte Mollicone," Donte interjected, cutting off Bernard, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr...."

"Coleman," Coleman approached him with a chuckle and shook his hand, "Coleman Ivey. What is he doing here?"

"He's the one that, you know...." Bernard pussy-footed.

"You have my shit," Coleman laughed, "Oh, okay. I still don't understand why y'all brought a motherfucker I might have to kill her but I got it."

"He said he wanted to talk to you," Miles explained, "He wanted to negotiate."

"Negotiate? Cool. Where's my shit?"

"I have it," Donte replied.

"That right there is the end of the negotiations," Coleman's tone quickly changed to a more stern one, "You're going to give me my shit and then I'm going to maybe or maybe not kill you. You don't give it to me, I will. Thems the fucking breaks! I don't know why they had to bring you here to figure that shit out."

"You could kill me," Donte said, "You wouldn't have your shit and that's like, what, a million dollars on the street? So you're already a million out. It wouldn't take too long for my people to figure out what happened to me. I'm not that important but I at least warrant, I don't know, maybe two weeks of killings? We pop one of your guys, you pop back and one of these dumb motherfuckers end up shooting one of our guys that's the son of a made guy and all of a sudden, it's a war zone. You have front pages, 6 o'clock news. The city is under heat, they gotta clean it up. We'll whisker back into our side of town, well, their side of town. I'm dead by now. Now, you can't move product in the city anymore. This goes on for months, millions out your pocket and now every motherfucker that's running for office is talking about being tough on crime. Streets is dead, jack."

Donte couldn't get a read on Coleman's face as he just stared at him, twirling the knife and taking a bite of chicken every now and then. The room was completely quiet after that impromptu soliloquy, even Donte wasn't sure where it came from.

"This a smart motherfucker," Coleman let out a smile, "He a smooth talking motherfucker. I like him."

Coleman laughed, "Hey Bernard, why he ain't working for us? You a brother, right?"

"I'm not really anything, sir."

"See? Some more smooth talking shit," Coleman quipped, "That whole spiel, that was nice and shit, real nice. I still need my motherfucking shit back."

"That was always my plan," Donte replied, "You have a distribution problem, something I just highlighted."

"Consider it noticed," Coleman shot back.

"I'm not holding your drugs for ransom," Donte quickly thought on his feet, "You don't have protection coming into the city, anyone could have nabbed your trucks. Not to mention the shitty stash house."

"Get to the sales pitch."

"We can make sure your shit gets into the city," Donte promised.


"A small flat fee," Donte shrugged, "Baby coins when you consider the peace of mind."

"How much?"

"Five grand for every truck that goes into the city," Donte replied, picking out a random number that didn't seem crazy. The most they made from robbing the trucks in the first place were a few grand here and there if they got lucky.

"What about what you have right now?"

"As a sign of good faith? Let's say 250."

"Good faith?"

"I'd say so."

"I got a good feeling about this guy," Coleman let out a chuckle as he tapped Skippy on the shoulder, "Take care of this man for me, Skippy. Y'all got him looking fucked up. Bernard and homeboy, y'all gonna pick that tab up, alright?"

"Yeah," they both nodded with their heads hung low while Donte flashed that shit-eating grin once more.
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Post by djp73 » 14 Feb 2019, 10:15

donte smooth af bruh

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Post by Soapy » 18 Feb 2019, 08:14

"I told you to get egg rolls, not spring rolls."

"Same difference."

Donte shielded his eyes with his hand as the door swung open and the lights were turned on. He groaned as he rolled over to the other side of the couch, turning his back towards the wall as Charlie and Ronny came through the door.

"There he is," said Ronny as he walked past the couch and towards the kitchen, "Bobby was looking for you."

"The fuck happened to you?" asked Charlie as he caught a glimpse of the swellings and cuts on Donte's face.

Donte took a deep breathe before sitting up, revealing to the room that his entire face was bruised and his lips were busted. "They found out."

"What do you mean they found out?" Charlie pressed.

"They know, we...they know I took it."

"Took what?" Bobby came in through the door carrying two Coke bottles, "Fuck happened to your face?"

"I told y'all this was a bad idea," Ronny paced.

Charlie and Donte both stared at each other for a while as the room was almost at a standstill.

"Listen Bobby...." Charlie started.

"We were doing a job," Donte cut him off, "We got one of the trucks and it had dope in it. W...I decided that we should, uhh, take advantage of the situation."

"You didn't," Bobby said with a stern tone taking a look around the faces of the room, "Please fucking tell me you didn't."

"We weren't going to sell it," Charlie started defending himself and the group, "We were just going to sell it back to them, you know, something like ransom."

"I don't think the cops are going to look it that way," Bobby got right into Charlie's face, "You saw what happened with the Bruce kid, right? We don't touch that shit, we don't play with that shit, let the fucking blacks have at it!"

"Bobby..." Charlie interjected but Bobby placed his hand on his chest and drove him against the wall.

"Don't fucking Bobby me! Little Al is going to fucking have my ass for this bullshit y'all just did!"

Charlie continued to plead while Ronny and Robbie, who walked into the middle of this while stuffing food in his face and completely unaware of what was going, simply watched. Donte got up, walked over to the kitchen, opened one of the cabinets and grabbed a brown paper bag. He brought it back to the living room and on the couch that he had previously been laying out, he unfurled the bag and let its contents spilled out onto the couch.

"What the fuck?"

"Holy shit!"

"Two hundred thousand dollars," Donte spread the money out as the group of men came over with dumbfounded looks.

"You've got to be fucking me," Bobby grabbed some of the bundles stack of bills and ran his hands through them. He frantically started doing the same to the rest, making sure it was real.

"I've never seen anything like this," Ronny commented.

Charlie didn't say anything, neither did Robbie but that was because his mouth was still full of food. He took massive gulps before also walking closer to the couch and getting up close and personal with the money.

Donte and Charlie shared a look, almost a smug one.

"We're not in the drug trade business," Donte said with confidence, "We're in the protection business. No difference than protecting that dice game on 9th Avenue. No difference than the coffee shops, restaurants, checks cashing, same shit. A gentlemen by the name of Coleman Ivey is paying us for protecting his product and it's entrance into the city."

"Trucks don't get stopped coming into the city," Ronnie quipped, wiping off the side of his mouth with one of the bills.

"Coleman Ivey does not know that," Bobby laughed.

"He just saw all of his business in the city go down in a few days," Donte shrugged, "He would have believed just about anything.This was the big cash out so we only get five grand per truck after this."

"How many trucks a week?"

"Just the one," Donte explained, "It's not a lot of money but we just pocketed 200 grand and we're getting paid five grand to essentially do nothing. I know we don't deal in that world but we're also getting in the good graces of someone with a shitload of money, enough to hand me 200 grand with no prior notice with ease."

"What if they do get stopped?" Ronny was a bit worried.

"Then fuck them," Bobby shrugged, "And we hit them back for the shit they did to your face."

"Small price to pay for 200 large," Donte smiled.
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