Tales from New Bethlehem:The last stand of Daddy T PART 1.

Daddy T whose real name was Lawrence Trenton sat in his penthouse apartment and rolled up another joint. It wasn't regular marijuana he smoked, this was something else entirely.

A funky ass potent psychedelic mixture of hard hallucinogen chemicals and orange glowing fluorescent fungi that he had procured from "Uhuru". The only dealer on the streets of New Bethlehem possessing the perfect blend of insanity and efficiency to produce such a macabre concoction. His "magic potions" as he called them were well known throughout the denizens of the city. It was even whispered that the elites, high up in their impenetrable kingdoms of wealth and excess dared to sample his wares.  The dealers name was Uhuru. 

A mystic...a shaman....a madman.

He was all these things and so much more. Many knew his name but only a select few had ever truly seen his face. His persona was shrouded in secrecy and carefully crafted in perpetuated myth. Nevertheless his specter hung over the city like some frighteningly omniscient ghostly shade. T had known him since he was a young boy, when he was fresh out the gates, up and coming still making a name for himself in the streets.

Uhuru saw within the youth something much worthier than the typical  boisterous and impetuous street thug hungry to get their grubby hands on guns and drugs. No T was a man possessed of a definitive character. He was patient and calculating, never one to reveal his hand too soon in any given situation.  However for all of his patience and cunning, he still contained within him a measure of insolent uninhibited recklessness.

If he liked someone or something he simply had to have it by any means necessary. Most times he just flat out went out and took the object of his desire by way of physical force and manipulative coercion. So far this predisposition served him well in the street game. He had managed to carve out a small but very lucrative niche for himself in the "free zone". The only area of the city not directly controlled by  any of the four major crime syndicates. This is where the vast multitude of smalltime criminal organizations dwelt, fought, and conducted "business".

T was a natural born hustler, his primary operation involved the illegal sale of energy weapons, combat armor and hacked neuro-tech.  He had six soldiers working for him at all times. Each decked out and armed to the teeth with the latest in combat enhancing cybernetics, armor, and energy weapons. Of the six his personal bodyguard and the only one that he trusted with his life; was the oversized blue skinned furry mutant gorilla like humanoid enforcer named Kerg.

Kerg stayed by his side no matter what. Even at moments when T would have to go to the bathroom. He was fiercely loyal to his master and sported a number of impressive cybernetic enhancements. Presently he was positioned sentry like right outside the main entrance to T's penthouse suite. A Fortsner plasma rifle clutched tightly in his massive hands, he stalwartly purveyed the perimeter menacingly for any and all threats.

On this night T was not his usual self. Far from it to be exact. He lit up and smoked the joint nervously. His hands trembling so hard he almost dropped his lighter several times.

Something was on his mind and it was obvious that it had him shaken to the very core. Making him glance over his shoulder several times a minute. As if interpreting some sinister motivation behind every cascading shadow.

You see T knew he was a marked man......

He knew that a contract had been placed on his head two weeks ago. A somber but direct result of his shady business dealings with a relatively new player on the scene.

The Red Dragon Ninja clan....

They literally had just popped up out of nowhere. Proclaiming themselves more like a cult than an actual gang. It was said that they worshipped a demon named Oloteth, and that they ate the flesh of their defeated enemies. Regardless of these rumors they moved massive amounts of guns and tech on a weekly basis. For the right price it was stated that their leader an ominous and mysterious figure calling himself "crimson tiger" was willing to cut outsiders in on the action.

T could not resist an opportunity to expand his own operation and therefore didn't hesitate to get in contact with the clan. He figured that it better for him to act now rather than wait for his competitors to make similar deals.

He sent the word out to the many dissidents on the street that he would like to get in contact with the clan. For days there was no response, then suddenly without warning an arrow shot past one of his lieutenants and lodged itself quaintly in the ground near where he stood.

Examining it, he found that it contained a little compartment that when opened contained a note.

"Saturday. 1pm. Kentrell Harbor the old loading docks. Come alone."

Almost immediately he knew who sent the letter and what it meant. Wasting no time and not leaving anything to the winds of chance. He decided he would follow the instructions carefully. However his better instincts took over and decided to discuss the matter with his crew.

Kerg spoke first. His voice more beastial than human. "What do it say boss? It's the ninja cult?"

T answered him. "Yeah mon. Dem wan fi me to meet dem down at de docks Saturday at 1 o'clock in de mornin. Dem say ah shud go alone. Wot chu fellers tink?"

Peppa a tall and lanky heavily augmented dreadlocks sporting Rastafarian chimed in. "Boss mon dat is not a good idea yuh know. We does Mek money togetha. Same way we all shud die togetha. Blood in blood out mon. No way we your crew will let chu go down der alone mon. It could be a bloodclot trap fer all mi know. Don trust dem ninja man dem. Dem is a cult dem does deal in wickedness with evil spirits mon!"

Finally a dark skinned buxom woman with big yellow cat like eyes and multiple provocative piercings all over her body spoke. Her name was Sweetness and she was T's on again off again mistress. Along with her being a founding member of his crew. She also moonlighted as

a very popular exotic dancer at the city's preeminent strip club-The Haven. Even though she was loyal mostly to T. She had in fact on more than one occasion fucked every member of the crew....even Kerg. " Baby we can't let you go down there by yourself. Uh uh...that shit seems fishy to me. What we really know about these motherfuckers? No we got your back all the way...if anything go down we gonna be right there to let em have it!"

T took careful consideration of his subodrdinate's concern. As he pondered he needed more incite in order to come to a conclusion however. He turned to the oldest member of his crew-Big Jimmy a man who had been running the streets of New Bethlehem since even before T could walk. Jimmy was very old but due to his many cybernetic implants he had the appearance of a man in his physical prime.

"What chu tink Jimmy? Ah you is de wisest of dem all mon. What chu tink about dis here?" T asked inquisitively.

Jimmy said nothing at first then slowly rose to his feet from where he sat. He took a deep breath as he had the habit of thinking his words over thoroughly before he spoke. He yawned then raised his arms mightily in the air. Both of them were literally comprised of nothing more than gleaming metal and complex circuitry. In fact his entire body seemed to be more machine than man. Had it not been for his human brain, spleen, pancreas, and a few other organs he would've been classified as a full fledged cyborg.

" I dunno boss it's your call is it not? I got your back whatever you do. If it were me though I'd follow their instructions but not without adequate protection in case it's a setup."

T sat silent for a moment then responded. "Okay den. We all go but chu all stay behind and watch mi from afar. Tool up wit everythin we got. We cyan trus dem man dem!"

Sure enough when the time came T did as he was instructed but secretly had his crew waiting nearby under active camouflage projectors.

As he walked up the dock to the rendezvous point he couldn't help but notice the chill in the air. It was cold...mid winter actually. The snow hadn't come yet only the icy knife like blasts of freezing wind. He drew his heavy overcoat around himself tighter.

It was his favorite. He had it custom made and it cost well over 20000 cc's. The main fabric was comprised out of a complex blend of heat treated polymers, leather, and a highly advanced anti-ballistic material called Dixam. All inlayed over a .023 mm mesh of titanium steel alloy. The coat was almost nearly impregnable with excellent heat and energy dissipating properties. Such reinforced clothing was very common and widely available on the streets of New Bethlehem. Any little gutter scab worth his salt could acquire a basic reinforced long coat for a mere 700cc's. They were much easier and cheaper to produce than most other conventional forms of armor and stylish enough to be worn for everyday use. They offered excellent bodily protection as well as a greater more natural range of movement than your common garden variety hard heavy armor or powered exoskeletons. 

T never went anywhere unarmed. It was a rule of thumb for even the smallest most inane hustlers. Everyone and everything in this city had some sort of weapon or defensive capability on them...it's just the way things were. T favored a pair of twin long pistols chambered in the magnum .228 cartridge. With extended clips holding 40 armor piercing rounds a piece. Each gun could be fired in both auto and semi-auto configuration. Along with this he also carried a large reinforced steel machete like sword with a silver handle.

He stood at the agreed upon spot and waited. The nervousness and uneasiness of the situation made him visibly uncomfortable. He tested his communicator link with Big Jimmy. "Yo Jimmy chu there mon?"

There was a slight buzzing then Jimmy's familiar face suddenly appeared ghostlike in fluorescent blue splendor in the air.

"Yeah Boss. I'm here. We all are. We got you. Anything yet?"

"No mon...nothin yet. Jus stay fi ready mon ok?"

"Sure thing boss. Out"

The ghostly visage disappeared as suddenly as it came. Just in time for a black van to pull up. It's gyro gravity compressors whirred noisily. Most vehicles in this day and age operated either via an electromagnetic propulsion system or gyro gravity compression. The former utilized electromagnetic pulses generated by billions of tiny nanite machines embedded in the city concrete to "push and pull" a vehicle in any given direction. The driver by way of the steerage mechanism could manipulate these forces thus effectively "driving" the vehicle. This process did not involve the use of gasoline or any internal combustion engine whatsoever. Resulting in virtually no production of exhaust fumes or "waste".

The other main method of vehicle propulsion were "gyrogrocters". A marvel of new age physics developed late in the 22nd century. Scientists found that two circular objects with the same mass when spun close to the speed of sound in counterclockwise and clockwise directions had the amazing effect of producing an "anti gravity field". That is the two objects as long as they spun simultaneously at the same speed actually "hovered" above the ground.  Further research and development into this phenomena finally led to the development of the quintessential "flying car". The harbinger of any futuristic society.

The van pulled up right next to where T was standing.

Slowly the front passenger side door slid open. The vacuum compressed locks exploded with a burst of stale nostril stinging air. A dark ominous figure leaned forward just enough for T to see his mouth move but not enough to make out his features.

"Are you the one they call Daddy T?

A ominous voice like the reaper himself spoke. It sent a chill down T's spine like death itself.

"Y...yeah mon I am. Who might chu be?"

"Well now so pleased to finally make your acquaintance sir. I do believe you seek a business opportunity with my humble organization do you not?"

"Well yeah mon. I reach out cuz yuh know mon...chu all do big tings dem. Me wan to be cut in on all dat action mon. Mi know me cyan help chu seen? Chu dem a type New player in de streets mon...new yuh hear? De people dem nah know yuh face mon. Dem nah know yuh atall. Dem know mi do...dem know Sweet Daddy T fer years dem! Me move big tings like chu...mi wan fi help chu establish in the free zone dem mon. Put a familiar face to yuh organization. Mi help you distribute your ting dem all over. Dem people dem they na wan fi do bizness with a cult...a devil worshippin cult dat does eat people flesh an ting. Mi know it not true but dat is wot de people dem saying mon. Come on mon lemme me push your ting fer you mon. Everybody know Sweet Daddy T! Mi jus wan twenty percent of yuh take an de backin of yuh ninja man dem. Me crew will also be able to operate and get ting from chu direct seen?"

The shadowy figure stood silent then let out a burst of laughter.

"Bwahhahhaha! Hmmm a clever offer my friend. I see that you are a shrewd business man...yet you do make sense. We shinobi prefer to move in shadow...to remain faceless. It definitely would be mutually beneficial for both of us if you came aboard and distributed our goods. You have more history with the denizens of the free zone than we do. Thus we are at a disadvantage when selling our products. Hahhahahhaha! You have a deal my friend...in exchange for our protection and  supplies to you and your subordinates you will peddle our products throughout the free zone. I have only one apprehension to your offer...instead of twenty percent...you will receive twelve of the weekly take. That is my only offer take it or leave it."

T's mouth dropped after hearing this but he didn't want to show the slightest bit of emotion to his new benefactor.

"Twelve mon. Who yuh tink chu dealin wit eh? Mi nah no fi where chu come from but here in the bricks mon we does deal fair and square. Twenty percent mon...take it or leave it!" T responded firmly trying not to show fear. He didn't want his new benefactors to feel he was a weak pushover.

"Bwahhahhahahaha!" The ominous voice laughed again. Eerie almost ethereal laughter that seemed to come from somewhere else.

"Alright my friend. Twenty it is...but I must warn you before we get started. We take the utmost pride and care in our packages should any...mishaps....happen...well let me just put it like this...we...ahem...YOU...cannot afford any irregularity in distribution. The consequences will be swift and severe. Do I make myself clear?"

Daddy T was shaken to his very core after hearing these words. The candid almost devilish poignancy in them made him extremely uncomfortable. He questioned the wisdom that made him in reach out to them in the first place. Afraid for his life and not knowing what he had just gotten himself and his crew into he took a step back. It was too late to renege on the agreement now. He swallowed a lump of fear down his throat and sheepishly replied trying to sound as confidant as possible.

"I got chu mon. Nuttin gonna happen to yer tings dem! Trus me yuh in good hands wit daddy T!"

"Of course....of course. We will begin our little joint venture this coming Saturday. A shipment will be delivered to your doorstep quite literally. Do see that it is taken care of....expeditiously. If you can move all of the merchandise in a weeks time, then we will double up our resources and send you two every fortnight. Bwahahahahha!" The voice laughed again and the window rolled up concealing the barely visible visage behind a cloak of tinted plexiglass.

T stood there trembling as he watched the vehicle pull away off into the night. In the back of his mind he couldn't help but shake the feeling that all of the rumors about the red dragons were true. Especially from the weird creepy feeling he got when meeting gave to face with one of them. He tapped his communicator and spoke.

"Jimmy....Jimmy Mon chu der? It done mon....da ting done. We got de job seen! Twenty percent mon...twenty percent...no less!" He made a visible effort to make his voice sound as plausible as possible. He could not under any circumstances allow his crew to see how much he had been shaken by the encounter.

"That's good boss man...that's good. So when do we start?" Jimmy asked anxious to make money from this new venture.

"Saturday mon....Saturday. Him say dey gon leave a package at our doorstep. Him say fi wan us move him ting in a weeks time. If dat go tru him go double up and say fi send us two package every week." T replied trying to sound as self assured as possible.

"That's not hard boss. It's enough of us... we got the man power and tools to make it happen. God...twenty percent of the overall take. That's a lot of money Boss you did good man!"

"Yeah mon ting good mon. We mek plenty plenty money from dis ninja mon dem!"

He ended the communication and walked back down the harbor to join up with his crew. They were ecstatic with thoughts of profit, each one agreeing that this new business venture would be a way to increase the standing and clout of their gang in the free zone. It was unanimously agreed that the night's events called for a celebration of sorts. So after they spent a raucous amount of time getting drunk at Zubreddi's; they next went to the Haven for an after hours party. Sweetness was able to convince some of her stripper friends to sexually service Kerg and the rest of the crew for a reduced fee. While she herself personally pulled Daddy T into the darkly lit back room private area. The ambience was both macabre and foreboding and all around were the implicitly somber noises and scents of raw unbridled sex.

The Haven had been around for years. It remained the city's preeminent strip joint mainly due to its rather seedy nature. It had changed hands many times since its inception but for the past 80 odd years or so ownership solely belonged to a being called "Mama". She was a beautiful golden haired, red skinned, android dominatrix pimptress. It was due to the unscrupulous nature of how she ran the club coupled with her ever apparent attention to even the minutest details involving every nook and cranny which made the Haven rise to prominence amongst the horny multitudes of the city.

Mama set all the prices for the various sex acts performed under her roof.  The Haven wasn't just your average strip club. On any given day of the week it operated on equal parts simultaneously as a lounge, massage parlor, S&m dungeon, and brothel. Quite Literally you could get anything you want, whenever you want, however you wanted it. No matter how perverse or disgusting your appetites were. Mama kept security tight by way of her personal cadre of heavily armed cyborg enforcers. At any moment they were ready to dish out swift death to any transgressor foolish enough to "act up" on her property. Her A.I mainframe ran on a hub network distributed via a hidden network of miniature sized cameras, sensors, and monitors embedded in virtually every square inch of the place. This was a necessity; as it allowed her the ability to know and see exactly what was going on everywhere at all times.  She wasn't a bad android, rather she was actually quite reasonable. Possessing an easy going nature. When it came down to business however she was ruthlessly meticulous. Everything about the Haven was designed to maximize the customer's experience and thus keep him/her coming back. The drinks were purposely poured too strong ensuring intoxication but also for a much more sinister reason. So that the consumer would not taste the many aphrodisiacs sprinkled inside them.

The performers, dancers, and whores would all get down for the right price. This was a rule of thumb, everyone had to have sex....you couldn't work there if you didn't. The house took in 30% of whatever any individual made. The plethora of her sordid staff were comprised of an equally repulsive mix of human, mutant hybrids, and androids from all walks of life. Mama had a few simple rules for all of her patrons. In her establishment she did not condone nor tolerate any kind of violence whatsoever. All non-club oriented disputes and vendettas had to be handled outside as far away from the premises as physically possible. Next under no circumstance could you the patron ever dare assault, rob, or harass anyone be they worker or patron. This was simply just not done, because once management got wind of the offending parties and culpability was determined. Punishment would be netted out by her cyborg army swiftly and without mercy. Consequences while on the premises for violating any of Mama's rules usually ended in severe dismemberment and  possibly even death. Due to this severity no one really ever violated and the place was by all practical intents and purposes probably one of the safest locations in the entire city. There simply were no boundaries when it came to hardcore sex and having a good time. The strippers were the absolute nastiest most freakiest beings in the entire city. Sweetness had built up a reputation as one willing to go the extra mile to make her clients achieve ecstasy. She would literally do whatever it took and was willing to get it on with anybody. She was augmented as she had extra nerve endings implanted around her clitoris, tongue, feet, nipples, neck, ears, and fingertips. In this way she ensured herself fantastic earth shattering orgasms from even the merest touch. Her most striking feature were her large mysteriously green cat-like eyes. They were obviously the result of some gross feline mutation, which she purposely had done in order to add a unique flare to her overly sexualized persona. She wanted to stand out and to seem more alluring to her clientele. She was a nympho to put it bluntly...a voracious sex addict. Having been first introduced to T after he had killed her then boyfriend. A low level weapon and drug dealer named "Jibba".  T at the time was young and still trying to make a name for himself in the streets. He desperately wanted to be a part of Jibba's crew but he had to prove himself first. Jibba arranged for him  to drop off a package and collect money from a south side biker gang called the Descendentz.  Unbeknownst to T  though, Jibba felt inherently threatened by the young man's youth, resourcefulness, and hunger for street fame. He secretly plotted with the leader of the Descendentz-a heavily augmented brute of a man named "Deisel"; that once T had delivered the package of guns and drugs to diesel, he was supposed to be killed by the gang. Jibba did not want him to leave the place alive under any circumstance and thus dropped 10,000cc's on his head just to ensure his murder. When T arrived at the destination he was introduced to Diesel who had been waiting for him with a laser pistol cocked and ready hidden in his breeches. T gave him the package and then asked for the money in return. By chance or maybe just by some random twist of fate something in Diesel immediately took a liking to the handsome young dreadlocked street wise black kid who stood before him.

Instead of pulling out his laser pistol to kill him, he extended out his hand in friendship and asked if the young man would have a drink with him. T accepted the offer and the two sat with the rest of the gang drinking for hours. In that time Diesel exposed the entire plot of how he was paid to kill T by Jibba. He then schooled T on how never to trust anyone in the street as the nature of the game was all about treachery. T soaked up all this knowledge but in his mind vowed to get his revenge on Jibba once he returned. Diesel then gave T the money for the package along with the 10000cc's Jibba had paid him to ensure his death. Diesel then warned T to not go at Jibba immediately. As he would have time to prepare once he learned that T was still alive. Diesel told him to become like a "ghost" and lay low for a couple of weeks. Giving Jibba a chance to "get comfortable" thus lowering his defenses.

Weeks passed and T walked in on Jibba in the middle of a dice game.

"Remember me? I is still alive chu stinkin cockroach mudderfucker!"

Jibba wasted no time and reached for his plasma blaster. Effectively firing off several shots before rolling and ducking behind a garbage bin. T drew his pistol and let off a round but it missed and he was clipped in the shoulder by one of Jibba's plasma burst.

Not even uttering the slightest sound of pain, his mind too focused on killing the man he so recently wanted to get down with. T darted around the garbage bin firing wildly. Jibba emerged crouched and tossed a brigadier-an energy barrier. These were small  veritably cheap grenade like devices that when detonated, created a circular or rectangular shaped hardened barrier of electro magnetized plasma. They were very effective in close quarters combat when timed right, because they immediately created a "wall" between the user and an assailant. Allowing the user enough time to escape, administer medical aid, reload etc. The only downside was that the barrier's consistency was not very strong and could be shattered by any sufficient amount of force.

Jibba turned and ran firing back at T. T launched a furious front kick that shattered the energy barrier and chased down Jibba who had by this time fled into a tiny noodle & dumpling eatery across the street. Closing in for the kill; T knew that his prey was his because  the eatery only had two exits. The entrance and a door in the rear of the establishment located in the kitchen. This back door was always kept locked by staff and thereby inaccessible to anyone who didn't know the correct passcode.

Not even running, T strode into the entrance like the spirit of vengeance itself. His entire body covered with sweat and blood. His face snarled into a terrible grimace of hatred and disgust; angrily he gripped his pistol tightly in his hand.

"Chu die now mudderfucker!"

Jibba knowing that one of them had to die reared up from behind a table and fired crazily. The burst of plasma killed one of the cooks, instantly exploding his head and sending hot pieces of brain matter all over the walls and into the steam tables of food. He also killed a desperate patron who had tried to flee when one of the bursts hit the man in the back. Tearing open a nine inch hole through his heart. T caught the man's body as it fell and used it to shield himself from further oncoming bursts of superheated green plasma. Taking aim carefully he fired his pistol twice.

"Blam!" "Blam!"

The first shot caught another fat female patron in the left shoulder immediately dislocating it, you could tell from the way her arm hung that the high caliber bullet had completely fragmented the bone, joints, and socket. She screamed out in pain and dropped to her knees in absolute agony. The second shot hit Jibba right in the forehead completely obliterating the back of his skull. His brains splattered the otherwise perfectly white uniforms of the other horrified line cooks. Who by now were huddled together desperately in one corner of the kitchen.

"Mi see yuh in hell mudderfucker!" T screamed before walking over and pissing on Jibba's corpse.

Strangely he died with his eyes wide open and his mouth swollen into an expression of surprise. T bent down and searched his pockets taking everything. His watch, plasma pistol, cells, holo-drive, communicator, drugs, and most importantly the key card to his sub basement hideout. T then angrily proceeded to viciously kick out each one of his teeth before finally fleeing the premises. Headed down Axebury street he took the monorail to Jibba's basement hideout in east westick. He slid the key car d into the e-reader and the mechanism controlling the metal plated shutter slid upwards. In its wake lay the entrance to his sub basement apartment quite clearly.

T was not surprised to find all of Jibba's crew lounging around the large basement complex. When they saw him they were shocked but immediately surmised what had happened. It was Big Jimmy that dared to speak the words everyone was thinking.

"Did...you do him? Is he dead?"

T said nothing he just nodded, reached in his pocket and dropped Jibba's plasma pistol on the floor.

"Well den...mi had to handle bizness. Jibba go dead. Mi lick him brains right outta he fuckin head. Anyone else hav a problem wit mi? Yer need to speak up now or be done wit it. Mi taking ova dis operation ...everytin he own now belong to mi seen!"

Sweetness in that moment found this young handsome dreadlocked gangster to be simply irresistible. She had never really been attracted to Jibba, he could not fully satisfy her desires. She only remained loyal to him for posterity's sake. From that day forward, the entire gang pledged their support to T, as he became their new leader.

Daddy T was so drunk he couldn't even have resisted Sweetness' advances if he had wanted to. Unzipping his pants then forcibly removing his underwear, she went to work gently planting wet kisses down the shaft of his penis. Stroking it firmly with one hand while gently massaging his testicles with the other. When they had become visibly swollen and his penis erect she looked up at him and whispered.

"You ready for me Daddy?"

With a smile and a nod T responded by motioning for her to sit on his lap. Sweetness rose to her feet still gripping his penis in one hand. She did not want it to get soft again. She was already topless with her giant breasts bouncing up and down. So all she had to do was pull off the black thong that she wore. Pressing two fingers to her tongue she spat on them, then used the saliva to "moisten" her vagina.

"Mmmmm....creamy. Taste so good."

Daddy T just smirked again. Not saying anything at all. With a dancers precision Sweetness climbed on top of his cock. Gently guiding it into her vagina. She gyrated her pelvis and Daddy T's rolled back in his head in a paroxysm of spastic ecstacy.

"Lord gyal...yuh is so good. Yah kno Jus wah mi need dis night ta mek mi feel gud so! Chu is pure trouble seen!"

Sweetness just flashed those large green cat eyes of hers and gave him a sly devilish grin. She loved to please her man. It was so easy to get money and favors out of him after he had just ejaculated.

"Let's smoke now daddy? I have some good stuff from across town."

"Sure lemme see dat...give it here."

She passed him a little silver tray containing several tightly rolled brown joints, a tiny mountain of a white powdery substance and a straw like metal tube.

T inspected the contents of the tray inquisitively, he did not trust anyone and always cautioned that his many rivals would seek to get rid of him by way of laced drugs.

He passed one of the rolled joints slwoly to his lips and then dipped his finger in the mountain of white snow. After which he tasted it on the tip of his tongue. His eyes set about wildly as Sweetness sat beside him a little afraid. Finally he spoke utterly satisfied with the makings of the illicit substances brought before him.

"Ahhh..ting good mon...ting good. Let's smoke babygyal.."