HAM (Hard As a Muthaf**ka)

Modus Operandi

Modus Operandi

                 I sat there on the concrete bench, as Kantrell pulled up. The Monte Carlo had a clean ass paint job, and the ragtop roof was fresh and new…I could also tell that Kant had tinkered wit the engine some more, because it growled like a clean engine- you couldn’t hear any sputtering in the exhaust. He still had on his work clothes though.

                 I got into the car…we pulled out the train station, headin to Mos’s restaurant, as usual. I sat there, silent unto death, starin out the window…my thoughts were interrupted my Kants loud mouth. “Wassup wit you? I aint seen you be quiet in a minute,”

                 I just shook my head. “Aint nuttin,”

                 “Don’t tell me that bitch Corliss was trynna play you! I say you need to choke the shit out that bish, and set her straight!” snapped Kantrell, wit a lil sinister laugh at the end. I looked to him, then returned to starin out the window…Kantrell pressed his lips together. “Damn folk, I aint seent you this mad and silent in a long time,”

                 “Let’s just do the damn thing,” I said. “I got stuff to do, and I don’t have time for Mos to be shuffling his feet about the whole shit,”

                 We pulled into the restaurant…this time I noticed a Silver 2 door SS Impala amongst us…what exactly was Mos plan? I hope he knew what he was doin…coz the po-pos are on that nigga’s ass- they want him bad. I stepped out the car, and walked to the door alongside Kantrell…he opened the back door, as we entered the restaurant.

                 “Oh yeah…what the fuck is up wit you fuckin around wit Renata? Nigga, you have a baby on the way! You need to leave that shit alone,” I lectured Kant.

                 “Pshh! Maaaan…that was coz I was bored, and wanted some new pussy,” groaned Kantrell. “Don’t worry about me, shawty…I will be alright,”

                 Once again, Mos sat at the prep table, with Riddell standin beside him…I swear, Riddell was lookin even more cracked out than the last time I seen him. “Sup, J…how’s life?”

                 “I can’t complain,” I said. “Been workin…enjoyin my nights at home. How’s the restaurant been?”

                 “Shitty,” Mos answered. “Renata up and stole $200 dollars…I was gonna press charges, but Millie begged me not to. Millie paid me the money back out her own paycheck…but you know I can’t take Millie’s money,”

                 “Sorry to hear that,” I said, lookin to Kantrell. “And here I thought Renata was doin well, and tryin to get on her own two feet…she must’ve gotten something from somebody to relapse again like that,”

                 “That’s how the cookie crumbles,” smarted Kantrell. “Darwin, nigga…Darwin,”

                 I gave out a little laugh…inside, I wanted to punch that nigga all in his shit- yeah nigga…we’ll see if you fit to survive, muthafucka. I then looked back to Mos, throwin my hands up. “Oh yeah, my man said you had a plan…queue a muhfucka in on it,”

                 “Riddell and I figured since we were bein pinched and looked at by the po-pos, that we’d look into ‘other options’, to keep the operation movin. We came up with a middle man, who would be like my enforcer…he would keep my hands clean- the product wouldn’t even touch me, and he’d also enforce my will for those who think I’m gettin weak or slippin,” Mos said, with a million dollar grin on his face. “We set the plan into motion last week- we back to makin money…in the meantime, it looks like I’m clean,”