I stepped to the fool. "You think this here a game, man?"
"Nah." His pickle lips looked ready to bite my face off. "You do!"
I knew the pickle-lipped fool would try to pull something, so I smacked the bravado out of him. His piece clanked on the tiles - the fool was actually packing.
It was a Glock 17, standard issue. Not even loaded. I couldn't help but chuckle at pickles. "You think you can scare me, boy?" I slammed his shit against his face. "You must not know me."
I left him on the bathroom floor. That's the last time I'm talking to fans while pissing. In the hallway some girls were smoking some reefer. I would've taken their shit even if they didn't offer it to me. Smoking is bad for you.
I passed it to Dog once I entered the weed room. It was the green room, but we called it the weed room, ya natta mean?
"Where'd you get this?" Puff, puff. "This here good."
"Some groupies in the hallway," I changed into my performing hoodie. "And hell no that shit ain't good. I swear, Dog, you got the worst taste in... everything!"
"That he do!" Rodge said, cackling. "Yesterday, the dude ate ketchup with his tuna." The sound of the concert outside got drowned out by the laughter. "That dude stupid, yo!"
"Ketchup and tuna, delicious." Puff, puff. "And this right here delicious as well."
"Ya'll crazy, I saw -"
"Excuse me, gentleman?" One of the suits entered without knocking, again. Gonna bust a cap in that one's ass one day. "You're on in five."
"You want some of this, dog?" Puff, puff. "Bet you've never smelt something this good."
"Dog. What I told you about giving stuff to the suits?" Dog was constantly stepping. Every now and then, I put him in line. "And put some pants on! You heard the man! We on in ten!"
"Actually, it's -"
"Um, actually, um." I got up. "We on, in ten."
"Right. Ten minutes." He looked around the room as if searching for something. "Gentlemen." And left.
"Maaann." Rodge, already fitted in his gear, chilled on a bean bag. "Someone should -"
"Rodge!" I pointed at the fool, my go-to move. "You best not say some gangster shit. I told you, that man's gonna get his. Don't make me give you yours."
"Maaann." Rodge actually got up in my face. "You've been talking some wild shit lately, eh?" Here Dog." He handed the reefer back to Dog, who was now fully equipped: black hoodie and sweatpants. Warrior's gear. And Rodge was still talking. " - you also ate my nuggets! I should -"
""Two minutes, gentlemen!"
I locked eyes with Rodge. "You ready to do this?"
He started the hand shake. "Always." I finished it with an extra swirl. Got a good feeling about tonight..
"This show." Puff, puff. "About to be lit." Puff, puff.
"You better remember your raps, fool!" I pointed in his face, so he knew. "Not having your stoner ass embarrass us on stage, again!"
The crowd was hype, the stage was dope, the show was amazing. I was rapping my lungs out when the suit threw me a bottle - that one ain't so bad. I made a half-assed comment about the crowd being descendants of some ancient warriors. They were Eastern European, my guess had to be right since they went ballistic. Great crowd. Great set.
Until the fool from the bathroom came out waving his empty Glock. People around him scrammed as he was spewing his nonsense. I stayed put, seeing as how I knocked him -
The pickle-lipped fool actually shot me. I could feel the blood on my shoulder. Imma kill that man... Of all the places, he shot me in the shoulder? My right shoulder? My mic holing shoulder? Maaaaannnn.
Pickles got tackled, started whining like a lil bitch. The security guard gave me the Glock, and I smacked the shit against pcikles' face. Again. The suit rushed over to talk about my wound. By the look in his eyes, I could tell he never gotten shot before. I let him ramble, told him what was what - for some reason, that only made him paler. Oh well, his loss.
I was in an ambulance, letting the medics stitch me up when the boys returned. "Yo. How we do?"
"Best show of the year by my count." Puff, puff. "You ok?"
"Yeah. Shit only grazed me." Rodge was quiet. "Big R? You good, homie?"
"Yeah man." He shrugged. "Just... you a crazy dude, man." He chuckled. "I'm good though, I know you'll turn this into a fire verse." He left.
And I would do just that. Bumped fists with Dog and told the pretty paramedic lady my address. She gave me a look as if unaware of what to do with said information. I gave her a wink. Thought medics were smarter.
"Heyy! Over here!"
It was one of the chicks that gave me that wack reefer. "Hey."
"You wanna chill?"
I let her take me behind the alley where her friend was waiting. Oh these girls are freaks.
"You liked our weed?" The other was leaning against a wall.
"It wasn't bad?"
"Yea?" The one next to me was all up in my shit. "Bet it wasn't."
Next thing I knew I was on the floor. The two bitches started beating my ass with metal pipes. Metal pipes, yo! Who even uses metal pipes anymore? "Yea, you like that?" One hit my nose, cracked it. "You think you can just steal my weed? Fat boy?" Another cracked a rib, or bruised it, hurt like hell regardless. "Yo mama never thought you any manners?" It really hurt. Really was a good 'ol passionate ass-whooping.
When they were done I was curled up like a baby. Pain everywhere. "I'm sorry." I whispered through gritted teeth. "That shit... that shit just smelled so good."
"Yeah?" The first kicked my shit in. In heels! "That's the last time you tasting it. Fat boy."
They left me there, not before spitting on my corpse: at least I felt like one. I let them go, it was unbefitting of a man to strike a lady. Or some shit.
It took me a long time to get out of that alley. Long enough to make some crucial life choices.
Never steal someone's weed.
Hope no one takes offence to this piece. 😁 It's a pretty harmless fun text I wrote as a comedy thingy. Hope it made created some smiles. 😅
Have a great day, yo! 🙂
Obligatory shout-out to the 🍕PIZZA🍕 gang, 🤙 gang. 🤙
👊 Follow me on my HIVE blog 👊
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Peace, and remember the crucial life lesson! 😝
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