Drillmington: Avenge

On the stage, DJ Cratftsman streamed another song and cut it up. TSL walked out to the stage to great fanfare and applause. The crowd shouted back his lyrics. The harsh, dense lyricsim of his drill raps concerned his proper relationship with his girlfriend and his good relationship with his father as well.

He barked into the mic like a ringmaster. Tight in his throat were the words that were expelled like rounds from a pistol. He enjoyed every moment on the stage. When he had finished the show, he had made a cool $78,000.

He used a marijuana vaporizer to relax backstage. Julisia rubbed his back and shoulders.

“That was a great show, babe,” she said.

“Not good enough. Did you see the doors open halfway through my set?”

“They might have been going to the bathroom. Or buying merch. You’ll see when the numbers are done.”

“All of the ways we can make this work, and you’re unsatisfied.”

“Every great artist is. Now, work my back and not my nerves.”

“If you take a moment to think about it, you’ll find yourself in a better position.”

“I hear you talking….”

Julisia saw the door open. TSL’s Manager barged in just then. Cassius Ardemere stood at five feet nine inches and possessed a sturdy frame.

“That was a great show. We had sold ninety percent of the tickets in the first half hour. Then you sold out. With the album coming out, you’re going to get into the mainstream. Out of Delaware.”

“I don’t want to go out of my home. I want them to come to me. If I can make it here I can show other up and comers the pathway to get this money.”

Julisia looked at Cassius. “What’s wrong with your face? We made bank tonight didn’t we?”

“There’s news of another shooting on the East Side. It involved a sixteen-year-old who wanted to be a surgeon.”

TSL got into motion. “Let’s collect the checks and keep going. Let this be our learning session to make sure that we can stop these brutes from continuing on their path of destruction.”

They all got up and Ardmere went to summon the Light Ray. In all of the reasons that they could find to not go on this outing. They each donned black skullies and gloves. They rode over to the East Side to see about business.

As certified snitches, they knew what they were doing. They had banded together without any weapons and lurked around the neighborhood looking for trouble. They could handle it. They wore helmets and bulletproof vests. Their all black attire meant they could close in on the culprit.

They used advanced technology like night vision and thermal imaging devices. While they scoped out the perpetrators, they could see the hot pistol in their pockets. TSL got on the phone.

“Yes, we have two black males about five feet seven and five feet eleven. They are walking away from a crime where authorities have already addressed the crime scene. Be on alert, they are still armed and dangerous. Send units to the 100 block on the East Side. Thank you.”

“Have you listened to yourself?” Cassius asked.

“What’s wrong?”

“You get too emotional even when giving specific instructions,” his manager observed.

“I’m a drill rapper. What do you expect?”

“We’ll figure all of this out and see if the cops scoop up these miscreants and lock ‘em away for a long time.”

The three snitches had their own accounts in the police bank and would be replenished once more if the police reached and apprehended the criminals.

“My phone just flashed,” Julisia announced.

“They’ve got ‘em.”

“Alright, in true snitch fashion, we’re going to make sure they give us the money,” Cassius said.

“I know it’s about the money, but it’s also to avenge that kid’s death. He could have been a doctor on a space mission or saved lives right here on earth in battle. His life meant more than all of these numbskulls put together.”