Portray

Money Moves pt: 2

Don's, uncle's beat-up truck sits in the Grandy's parking lot. He drops the hatchback and looks over a four-foot length ported car subwoofer box. He retrieves a dirty rag, sprinkling water onto it. He wipes away the dirt grimed into the edges of the speakers. Satisfied, he ditches the rag. Surveying the lot and traffic whizzing by, he contemplates going inside the restaurant for a couple of Coneys.

Then a car rolls inside the lot, taking the free spot next to the pick-up. It's the buyer. Don leans against the rear bumper.

"Waddup doe?" the customer jumps out of his detailed, rim stunted Pontiac G5 '07.

"Shit, each time I see that bitch you got it tweaked out."

"You already know this the Motor City after all," the customer dabs up Don, where they held a firm hand shake coming chest-to-chest followed up with a mild patting on the shoulder.

"After you check this out," Don drops the hatchback like he was giving an introduction in his science class, "You definitely gonna be adding another addition to it."

The man rubs his hands vigorously, taking in his potential buy, "Damn dog, this what I'm looking for."

The man glides his hand along the speaker and Outer box frame. Don was expecting more excitement but he was gonna cause it himself,

"Check it out," Don produces a slim remote before the customer, "make that bitch sing."

The man smashes the buttons to the remote and in seconds Peezy erupts from the speakers, casting vulgar rap lyrics through the vicinity of the lot. Even Don is caught off guard from the bass and power the noise box produces. Yet he grows laxed regarding the sale at hand as he takes in the customer's smirk while bobbing his head.

"Oh shit, yeah I'm fuckin' with it!" the customer's smile grows bigger.

And like that, the sale concludes with the customer driving out of the lot with tweaked out used speakers and Don adding an extra two-hundred-and-fifty to his bank roll.