Tears of a Clown

5

Banks cruised down the interstate in a black beat up work van with a lawn service logo on the side. He was no gardener, shit he was far from one, but the van and the bullshit uniform jacket he wore would have the cops thinking differently.

This was his M.O. whenever he needed to distribute work or just do a pop up on his workers like today.  Black put him in charge of the traps and the last thing they needed was some more bullshit.

Black's operation took a major loss just last month. That loss resulted in them shutting down until they established new traps and smarter workers. Banks was pissed that Black wouldn't allow him to rectify the situation personally.  Never had a person crossed or disrespected him and live to tell about it.

Black had some other shit in mind though. Even though Banks wanted blood, he'd be lying if he said the deal they made wasn't lucrative. They were fronted more work than usual and guaranteed protection.

After about fifteen minutes on the interstate Banks pulled into Greenhill, or the Green as everyone now called it.

The Green used to be a neighborhood filled with hard-working families, but drugs had turned it into something different.

Now you could find fiends and drunks posted on just about every street, and If they weren't scheming for a hit of something, they were trying to sell some shit to be able to afford it. Kids played in the streets all day with no adult supervision in the same clothes they had on the day prior.

The Green was a mess.

Pulling into a yard a few houses down from his trap spot where a for sale sign sat, banks bit down on his jaw as he watched his workers doing the most.

Poncho, the nigga in charge of running the spot was standing in the driveway leaning on a car while smiling up in some bitch's face like there wasn't a quarter million worth of drugs and money stashed away inside the house. On top of that, a few niggas were on the porch shooting dice like this wasn't a whole fucking trap spot.

Banks was furious as he pulled out his phone and dialed up Black.

"Yuurrrp," Black answered on the first ring. Although he was the man in charge, Black didn't take this shit as  serious as Banks.

"You been down to the Green today?" Banks questioned, skipping all formalities.

He heard Black say something to someone in his background before he answered. "Nah, why? Something goin' on I need to know about?"

"That's what the fuck I'm trying to figure out," Banks seethed. "I rolled up and this shit looking more like a fucking house party than a dope spot, fuck is up?"

Black couldn't do anything other than shake his head and grab up his keys. He knew Banks, and he knew that shit was about to get ugly real fast if he didn't come calm the situation.

"Gimme ten minutes," Black replied ending the call.

Banks tossed his phone in the cup holder and surveyed his surroundings. He couldn't believe how sloppy these niggas were. If he was coming to rob the spot he could have easily laid all of them out and cleaned house.

"These niggas on one," he sighed pulling a pre-rolled blunt from the glove box.

Twenty minutes and a blunt later Black still hadn't showed up. Banks was so agitated that he was ready to clean house and deal with the consequences later. He probably would have had he not saw Black pull up in the empty spot behind him.

Banks stepped out of his ride and walked over to meet Black. The two dapped up and Banks started going in.

"Where do you find these little niggas man? It's one thing for one man to walk in and clean house, but for niggas to know that happened and still not be on point, that's a whole other problem." He fumed.