Bite Size Trouble (Urban)

Mo Primo

Mo was ready to close up shop for the night. He was happy too. One because he made a killing tonight with the fiends and two because he managed to get the last of that primo batch out of his stash.

Mo's employer had hit Mo off with some new dope that was having the fiends going crazy coming back in droves. He's lucky his boss had the cops on lock or today he would have surely been busted with the way the fiends kept flooding the block.

But Mo was mostly happy his side deal was finally finished. Sure he was making a good amount of money with the Street family but he wasn't getting nearly enough as he heard the other dealers were making messing with the Willows family.

The Street owned almost every corner of his block and then some. They basically owned the whole city since two of the members of the Street family were actually in law enforcement. The Street Empire had taken over every drug kingpin's operation in a fifty mile radius, recruiting their workers, and then giving them scraps compared to what they used to be making before. The only people the Street didn't mess with was the Willows, a brother and sister team that started up practically overnight. In fact, the Willows even used the Street's pull to help them out monetarily.

Mo never understood how that family was exempt from the Street's takeover. The Willows was almost untouchable. They had just as much law officials and politicians on payroll as the Street family did. But the Willows treated their workers better, way better.

Mo used to work for King Louie before the Street came on the scene and bumped King Louie out of his spot. The main enforcer for the Street gang, Larenz Street, came on the block and gave Mo and all his workers an ultimatum on the spot: work for me or don't work. The answer was simple so Mo started hustling for Street. But he never liked it and wanted to start making his own money.

So when an opportunity presented himself, Mo was all ears. He was approached by a kid, which had to be like the little brother of one of Willow's workers, who had got his hands on some prime ass weed called Primo. Now Mo heard of Primo and knew only one thing: Street didn't sell it. This kid didn't know what he had but Mo did. The kid must have stolen it from his brother and attempts to sell it. He said he tried to sell it to some of the people he knew around the neighborhood but they seemed skeptical. Mo saw a business opportunity and knew a come-up when he saw one. He gave the kid a reasonable offer for what he had and the kid was happy to get rid of it.

Mo knew he had to be careful selling it so he had only sold the batch to elite clientele for a hefty price. Then Mo later found out that same kid was a victim of a fatal shooting. The kid was coming from home from school with his mother and someone in a black hoodie and mask ran up on them, tried to rob the mother but shoot the kid. Then Mo found out a guy named Trouble was asking hustlers about a new batch of Primo that was being sold without his knowledge. Mo still thought he was in the clear, plus he only had a little bit left, but then some mean looking muscle bound dude named Maine came on Mo's block asking questions. Every hustler on Mo's crew, including Mo, swore on a stack of bibles and a pair of new pair of Air Jordans that they never even heard of anybody selling Primo.

Mo knew he had better hurry up and get rid of that last batch so when Cass called saying she was coming through to pick up something, it was perfect.

Mo was happy to finally get rid of it. He didn't want anything to do with that Maine character. Maine looked like a stone cold killer but from what he heard about this guy named Trouble, Trouble was the real deal. Maine was just the sidekick. If that nigga is the sidekick, Mo thought, I hate to meet the nigga pulling the strings.

Mo took the keys out of his pocket, patted the nice wad of cash that was in his pocket, and used his house key to open the door to his apartment.

Mo was drained and just wanted to sleep. He had been up on the block all day and now that his employer's batch and his own personal stash was finally gone, he was ready to get some shut eye.

Mo walked inside his apartment and immediately knew something was wrong. One, all his lights were off. He never left his lights off. He lived in the projects, he didn't have to pay electric. He took advantage of that to the fullest. But before he could fathom why his lights were off in the first place, he was greeted by a punch in the face.

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I didn't feel right smoking weed that some kid dead over so I passed. Besides I wasn't feeling all that good about smoking just then, period.

"Your loss," Cass said lighting the blunt with a cigarette lighter she always kept in her pocket. "What about you, Lucky?"

"I'll pass, too," Lucky said even though she looked disappointed.

"You know y'all a bunch of lame bitches," Cass said taking her first puff. "This is prime shit right here. Niggas around here don't have this and we luck out and get a fresh batch of it in our stash. I say we smokebrate."

That was Cass way of saying 'celebrate'. I used to laugh when she said it but I didn't feel like it. I felt queasy from some reason. Like something was wrong. I don't know if it was a gut feeling or something but I didn't feel right at all.

"That's the point, nigga around here don't got that," Lucky said. "And this nigga Mo happened to have it in his stash like it's nothing. Shit, they only sell on the other side what he got. That don't seem fishy to you."

"Bitch, it's weed," Cass specified and took another puff. "Good ass weed but still just weed."

"No, it is tainted weed," Lucky said. "You told me the kid that sold it to you was the same kid they shot."

"Technically, it was a robbery," Cass rationalized.

"Bullshit, ain't no niggas robbing ladies and shooting their children for no reason," Lucky said.

"It happens all the time," Cass said. "It's called Brooklyn."

"No, it's called coincidence and that is something Brooklyn has a lot of," I stated.

"Y'all bitches is weak and blowing my high," Cass said and laid back taking another puff from the blunt. "Y'all need to hit this and stop playing."

I got up off the couch.

"What about the person named Trouble you said the kid took it from?" I asked.

"I don't know if he took it from him, per say," Cass said. "All I know is that some dude named Trouble was looking for a lost batch. I mean he even had some crazy ass dude come down asking motherfuckers about it."

"And you feel comfortable smoking it?" I asked

"Yep," Cass took another puff and coughed. "Very comfortable and you scary bitches need to shut the fuck up and let me enjoy my high."

I looked at Lucky. Lucky shrugged her shoulders.

"Look, is not like we stole it," Cass reasoned. "We're just smoking it. No harm in that."

"You heard the way Mo was talking about that dude Maine," Lucky almost whispered to me. "That nigga look shook. If he did get it off that Trouble nigga, he may be trying to watch his own back. That's why he dumped off that batch on us. To, you know, get rid of it."

"And we stuck with it," I said.

"Not for long, the way Cass going at it," Lucky had to laugh.

"Where the snacks at in this bitch?" Cass asked from her comfort zone on the couch. "A bitch got the munchies like a motherfucker."

Lucky looked at me then at Cass.

"Fuck it, what's done is done," Lucky said. "Let me get at that blunt. Bitty, go in the kitchen and grab those chips off the counter."