Hornet's Nest, Part 2 - Big Money, Bigger Appetite
An Uzi hanging to one side from a strap, the guard knocked on the heavy, wooden door.
A loud, slightly distorted voice boomed from the other side. "Enter!"
The guard opened the door and stepped into the room. Behind the glass top desk was the guard's boss, who barely fit behind the desk. His rolls of fat were tucked within his sweat and grease stained, pink and lime green outfit. It quickly became clear to the guard why his voice was distorted: several fries were dangling out of his mouth.
The guard nodded at another guard standing just inside the room before addressing their boss. "Sir, we just got a report. Another one of the girls was found dead."
"Fuck." A couple of the half chewed fries flew from his mouth, landing on the floor in front of the desk. He finished chewing the rest that were in his mouth before continuing. "The same way?"
"Sort of." The guard shifted uncomfortably at having to break that kind of news to his boss. "This time, her head was missing. They don't know where it's at."
”Damn, why they gotta go do that? Hard enough to keep the pretty ones already, and now I gotta worry about this. Fucking with my girls is like fucking with my money, and you don’t mess with a man’s money!“ he boomed, bringing his fist down on the desk before reaching for the fast food chicken bucket to his left. Grabbing a leg, he bit down angrily. The guard merely nodded.
“We’re increasing our presence both here and will be keeping in closer contact with the girls. It won’t happen again, sir.”
”It better not. Dammit, how’m I supposed to keep the girls from finding out about all this? If they all afraid of some crazy mothafucker, they won’t want to keep working. Biggie Mac ain’t one to be trifled with. You find that crazy fuck, and you make him understand that.”
"Yes, sir. I'll keep you updated." Biggie was too busy gnawing away at the chicken leg to acknowledge the guard any further, so he took that as his cue to exit, shutting the door behind him.
Biggie continued eating, of course. Once that chicken leg was meat-free, he tossed the bone aside and started on the next leg. Grease and breading from the chicken clung to his beard. The guard still in the room watched on in disgust, especially when Biggie let out a burp and then a fart. He didn't visibly show this disgust. Doing so likely would have ended with him getting a bullet to the face.
A third chicken leg later, Biggie Mac finally spoke again. "The new guns arrived yet, Tyrone?"
The guard, Tyrone, snapped out of the daze he'd entered. "Um... I think so, sir. Want me to go find out?"
"Yes I want you to go find out! Damn. Ain't anyone around here got any common sense besides me?" Tyrone started to quickly leave the room, pausing briefly when Biggie issued another command. "And find out where the damn ribs are! Ordered 'em like two hours ago!"
“Yes, sir. I’ll get right on that. Guns and ribs. Consider it done.” Biggie smiled, fries and chicken still stuck in his teeth. Tyrone exited quickly, beyond disgusted by now. Biggie paid all his men well, but sometimes he thought he deserved far more for being around the man. He’d take a gun fight over territory with a rival outfit over being in charge of bringing Biggie food any day.
Biggie Mac was growing impatient by the time there was a knock at the door again, having taken to rubbing his fingers around the inside of the chicken bucket to get the crumbs. "Enter!"
The door opened and there was Tyrone. Not with ribs, but with someone wanting to meet with Biggie. Quickly licking and sucking the grease off his fingers, Biggie stuck out his hand for Jerome. Jerome ignored this gesture and sat down in one of the two seats across from Biggie.
"Well just make yourself at home, fool." Biggie eyed Tyrone, wondering where the fuck those ribs were.
"I ain't here for pleasantries. I'm wanting to make a deal with you." Jerome looked at Biggie Mac's cluttered desk, as disgusting by it and by Biggie in general as Tyrone was.
"Alright, I'm listening." Biggie leaned back in his chair. Tyrone was waiting for the chair to break one day when he did that.
“I got these girls, and I think they be something you’d be interested in adding to your stable.” Jerome said, pulling his phone out to flip through several pictures of scantily clad women. Biggie nodded, and reached into his desk, bringing out a Big Hunk bar, peeling the wrapper back effortlessly and taking a thoughtful chomp. “Everybody say that Biggie is the man to go to when it come to getting them out there pulling the good jobs.”
"Of course they do. Everybody know Biggie takes care of his girls, so they take care of him." He reached for Jerome’s phone with his greasy fingers, flipping through the photos again. “Not bad. They look like they clean up nice. That one need a new weave, but that ain’t no big deal. Biggie like to dress his girls up anyway. Tell you what. You bring them here, and I have my girls set them up with what they need to get started. They can work it off quickly, we see what we got, and then maybe we can talk about a finders fee for you.”
Jerome shook his head.
“Finder’s fee? Nah man, you ain’t understanding. I don’t want no finders fee, I want a cut of what they bring in, daily.”
"I don’t deal in cuts. You want me to get those girls out there, and I can, but I’m the one laying out the money and effort to get them all set up, not you. I ain’t just some fly by night panderer setting whatever out on the street corner offering a two buck pump job. I cater to the elite crowd, and they like what I offer them. "
Jerome just shook his head as Biggie Mac returned the phone. "Look, all I was is a 40% cut. That seem fair to me, know what I'm sayin'? You seen what these girls look like. They'll make money."
Biggie chewed on what was left as the candy bar as he thought it over. "40's pretty steep." He stared at Jerome a little longer, crumbs falling out of his beard. "Okay, 40% it is. But I want these girls tonight, or the deal's off!"
"No sweat, big man. I'll have them here within the hour." Jerome stood up, but before he could turn around, he found himself staring at Biggie Mac's chest, particularly the pendant attached to the gold chain around his neck, made up of emeralds and rubies. "Is that a watermelon???"
"What the fuck did you just say to me?!" Biggie jumped up from his chair. "I cut this nice deal with you and you insult me? No it's not a god damn watermelon you blind mothafucker!"
Jerome raised his hands in the air, backing away. "Alright, chill! Damn..." Turning around, he headed for the door.
"No, your ass need to chill!" There was a loud bang and Jerome dropped to the floor. Biggie Mac stood behind him, gold pistol encrusted with diamonds in his hands, the barrel smoking, blood pouring from the back of Jerome's head, at least what was left of it. "As if he was really getting 40% from me. Damn, mothafucker got blood all over my rug!" Biggie looked up, holstering his gun. "Tyrone, go pick up this fool's girls!"
Tyrone, more than happy to be out and away from Biggie again already, headed for the door.
As soon as he shut the door, he heard Biggie add, "And find those ribs already! I'm hungry!"
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Hornet's Nest, Part 2 - Big Money, Bigger Appetite - ?????????? - 5:46:12 AM on 10/03/2015
