Gangs Of Vegas: The Butcher

Chapter 15

LAW 24

PLAY A PERFECT COURTIER

48 Laws of Power

“Shiva Tirparti!” yells Marlon Brando, standing on the rooftop of G's house, “You fuçkin Indian!” he dangles the bottle of whiskey in his grip staring at the new moon, all high and drunk, “Killing the biggest crime lords in five minutes! Aaand wiping out all our enemies, two biggest gangs of Vegas in that same fuçkin night. Man you know who are we?”

Shiva, who is sitting in a chair peering up at Marlon with annoyed face grunts, “Who said I'm Indian?”

Marlon rises an eyebrow, he gazes over his shoulder, “You are not? You said you were when I called you Arab.”

“I don't belong to any nation. I'm South Asian, we all are of same race there, it's another thing we don't consider us one.”

Marlon drops himself back on his chair, sitting beside Shiva, he drinks a huge gulp and peer, “Fuçk your Geopolitics, you must have a country, or were you born on fuçkin borders?”

Shiva smiles, finds it interesting to discuss about his family history, “I was actually born in Vegas.”

“Don't fuçk with me.” he Interrupts, “You ain't white, I can see that.”

“Don't interrupt you bastard. Where's the respect you use to give me. ” he then continues, “My grandparents were born in India.”

“That's what I just said.” he mutters like a child, boy he is too high.

Shiva rolls his eyes, “Don't make me shove my diçk into your mouth!” he groans. Marlon giggles, really imagining, then he pretends to zip up his lips.

“That wasn't the India of today. That was United India, basically the combination of India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka.” he pauses a bit, “My family had cement business all over these countries so we continued expanding the business and visiting allover these nations. Back there Americans were so fuçkin racist and I hated being here. I was the one who turned our business into drugs and now, I am South Asia's biggest drug lord.” he faces Marlon and sees him yawning.

“Fuçk, you will never change.” he groans and Marlon returns it with a laughter.

Marlon jumps up again, he rises the bottle up in the sky, “We serve G. You know who he is? He is the one who killed his own father. He is the one who avenged him within a week and shook all the underworld. You know what is he?”

“He's a god.” Zayn appears in the frame, having a branded cigarette between his fingers, it is a strange kind of cigarette. Micheal Wick was producing custom made cigarettes, they were called the horses. All black except the holding edge, there was a silver lining between the white and black part. It was real silver paper, the cigarette was slightly longer and thinker than the casual cheap brands, it's ingredients were also different, tobacco and weed were common in almost all branded cigarettes, but horses were different. They contained cocaine and heroin. All the burnable drugs were mixed up with tobacco filaments and were maintained between weed filaments, no wonder why Zayn so so much addicted to it. He is living here since the last night. Yes twenty-four hours has been passed since the death of the Supremes and the ambush.

Shiva glances over his shoulder, “As a religious person, I am offended.” he says.

Zayn walks forward and stands in front of both of them. Marlon quietly sits in his chair, still high.

“The man who does whatever he wants, no force is created to stop him. That man can't be any human, it's god's type of lifestyle.”

“How you are feeling, Zayn?” Shiva changes the subject, taking a sip from his glass of whiskey.