Fucking with my money is like fucking with my emotions.
Tyrone was already sweating as he pulled the Cadillac into the garage. Biggie would be furious when he heard the news about those two girls at the motel. Keeping a mess like that quiet would be quite the task, and Tyrone wondered if even a self proclaimed business genius like Biggie would be able to manage it. Once the other girls in his employ heard about what had happened to those two, and right under the noses of Biggie’s enforcers, they’d all surely be too afraid to work.
“Fuck,” Tyrone groaned, as he pulled the keys from the ignition. “What we gonna tell him, Kel? He gonna be pissed.”
“Fuck if I know,” Kel replied, shrugging. “That one girl used to pull in over a grand every Saturday. Hell yeah Biggie gonna be pissed over that.”
“Man, fuck yo big ass, Kel you ain’t no help at all. Like hell I’m gonna remind him that Kristall used to bring in that kind of dough!”
"Just sayin'." Kel got out of the car, leaving Tyrone by himself.
This gave Tyrone a moment to think over just what his story to Biggie Mac was going to be. Sorry sir, got held up in traffic so we were late getting there. No way Biggie would accept that as an excuse, or any other story.
"Fuck!" Tyrone said, slapping the steering wheel before finally getting out himself.
He was slow to walk up to the big, purple doors of the mansion, buying himself as much time as he possibly could before he had to face Biggie. He even stopped once halfway to the doors, checking his phone for any messages. Kel was waiting for him, checking his own phone.
When Tyrone eventually reached the doors, the guard standing outside opened it for them. They could hear Biggie yelling from his office about the lack of food. Tyrone stopped in the doorway. Maybe he could just walk away. With the way Biggie was so concerned about eating, it might be a while before he wondered why Tyrone seemed to have disappeared.
"Come on, man," Kel said, stopping when he realized Tyrone wasn't with him. "It won't be that bad."
Tyrone shook his head and continued walking. Heading through Biggie's lavish front hall, they went upstairs.
Outside of Biggie's office, Kel then said, "Good luck."
Tyrone's eyes widened as Kel quickly walked off. "Fuck you, Kel! Your ass is as much responsible for this as mine!"
Kel ignored him and turned a corner, leaving Tyrone to answer to Biggie alone. Waiting a moment, trying to sort out his thoughts, he knocked on the door.
"Enter!" The guard outside of Biggie's office opened the door and Tyrone hesitated one more time before stepping inside.
“Bout time your ass got here! I been waiting on that fuckin pizza forever!” Biggie boomed, giving Tyrone an impatient look. “My sugars are droppin so low I’m gettin the shakes!”
“Actually, uh, ‘bout that pizza...” Tyrone began, sweating even harder now. Biggie glared. “It’s uh, gonna be here in ‘bout five...” He finished, hoping that would satisfy Biggie. Placated for the moment, Biggie shifted in his massive purple crushed velvet seat, and started to dig in the desk for a bag of Reeses Pieces to tide him over until the pizza arrived.
“You got any news about that crazy fucker what’s been doin’ in my girls, then?” Shit, here it was. Of course Biggie would ask.
“‘Bout that... well, not sure how it happened, but he got Kristall and Chantell this evening. They were over at Peppermint Inn, and well... cops everywhere.” Biggie slammed down his bag of candy, sending brown, orange and yellow chocolate pieces flying across the top of the desk like confetti.
“What th’ fuck, Tyrone! Gawddamn! Kristall brought in over a grand on the weekend, and Chantall wasn’t so bad neither! Fuck!” he cursed, suddenly choking on an errant Reese’s that had caught in his throat. One of his body guards quickly handed him a massive two-liter of grape soda to wash it down.
Biggie's fat fingers struggled to work open the soda bottle's cap, draining half the bottle when he finally did, flinging the cap across the room.
"I know, sir. I'm real sorry, but by the time we got there, it was too late." Tyrone fidgeted nervously. "You see, Kel needed to stop and check on his moms and then-..."
"I don't give a fuck what that foo' Kel needed to do! When you're on my time, you take care of my business! Got that?!" Tyrone slammed his fists down on the desk, causing everything on it to bounce. "Gawddamn I'm hungry!" Biggie started digging through his desk for more candy. Unable to find anything quickly enough, he looked back up at Tyrone. "What about you? Got any candy?!"
"Uh..." Tyrone dug into his pockets until he found a package of Tic Tacs.
Biggie held out his hands for Tyrone to throw them. "I'll take 'em!" Tyrone tossed the Tic Tacs, but Biggie's fat hands failed to grab them and they bounced off somewhere onto the floor behind his desk. "MUTHAFUCKA!"
"I'm sorry, sir!" Tyrone was soaked with sweat by now. The situation couldn't be going any worse.
Biggie reached back into his desk, but instead of bringing out another bag of candy he brought out a gold plated, diamond encrusted Colt 1911.
“Ain’t bad enough you didn’t stop that fuggin’ psycho from dicing up my girls, there was a mothafuckin’ KFC over by Peppermint Inn! You stupid mothafuckas couldn’t even stop and pick up a gawddamn bucket on yo way back!” Before Tyrone could say anything else, Biggie fired off six shots, blood spraying onto the desk and carpet. Tyrone dropped, stone dead, and Biggie turned to his bodyguard.
“Get that foo’ outta my office, and call up housekeeping. And Pizza Hut. NOW, I’M FUGGIN STARVIN’!”
