The Caca hits the Moron

Joe was baked out of his mind and craving nachos or pizza or pretzels or jello.... hell anything to stop the crazy opossums that were insistent on waging war amongst themselves in his stomach. I should probably text Dino to get 3A cleared out that would make Stewart happy he thought to himself.

So he made the text succinct and to the point.

Dino it's Joe I got a deadbeat on the Brookwood block that needs to cough up some back rent and get tossed out on his ass.

Text me back when you can bring a couple guys around this guy already took a 12 gauge and shot through the door.

The reply was instant.

Are you sure there is only one guy in there?

Never mind you are too chicken to verify anyway. I'm in the Denali headed to the Southside anyways. I'm rolling 6 deep already and we are loaded for bear. We will be there in about 15 minutes.

Meanwhile in the Denali

*Generic house techno bumping*

"Dino. Dino.DINO!" a scowling young man shouted from the backseat.

Dino was sitting in the passenger seat moaning to himself in the passenger seat. He killed the radio, then took a long pull on his water bottle.

"What was so important that you had to destroy my vibe Danny?I was in my happy place Dr. Chandler says that getting into a trance releases so many mood improving hormones and endorphins that can really help me to be a better adjusted individual. It might be better than traditional dialogue therapy to help me control my impulses. Like right now my impulse to knife you in the neck and park this Denali set it on fire and the rest of us catch the elevated train home." Dino was agitated and breathing heavily.

Peter was driving and chuckling under his breath. Danny was still too green to know that when the music is on mouths better shut up.

" Why did Pete take the Greenway exit I thought we were headed out to Cicero then off to Fantasia to see some butt cheeks wiggle?" Danny asked clearly puzzled. He was under the impression that it was supposed to be a night out with the boys. There wasn't nothing on Greenway except really nice houses and a golf course.

A hand from the third row came across fast and smacked him upside his head.

"Bossman do you mind if I smoke a cig in the company car?" Skinny Pete the owner of the hand queried from the farthest seat.

"Sure thing Skinny just crack a window and don't burn my headliner." Dino said with a little amusement. "Matter of fact Skinny pass me one."

"I thought you told Lorraine you were quitting. I will give you one if you want but it's been at least a week since I saw you light up I would hate to break the pace."

"White lies Skinny I'm still puffing away but I told her that to keep the peace. Dr. Chandler says that we shouldn't lie and we should embrace each other if we fall short. I say eff that Lorraine knew she married a thug, thief, and a liar the day she met me."

Dino paused his conversation to light up and take a drag.

"Remember this Danny boy. Stewart is the king and we are nothing but soldiers doomed to die face first in a pothole somewhere in this wretched city. Right now we have to work before we can play. There's a big white house on this country club. Inside this house is a short fat judge with a tall fat wife. They own some property that Stewart wants pretty bad down on a lake. He sent us out tonight to let this judge know that Stewart won't sleep until he has that piece of dirt...and that judge can't sleep until he sells it to him."

"I knew we wasn't going to no titty bar." Pete guaffed. It took him a while to catch his breath"Hey little brother since you are passing out cancer candy shoot some of that my way."

"You popped out two minutes before I did." Fat Pete said in his deep baritone. Sitting beside his younger brother Skinny in the backseat he was already smoking a cigarette after Dino gave the green light" Four minutes before Skinny. Big brother,God,and Dad are all chuckleheads. Who in their right mind names all his sons Peter?" Fat Pete broke into a small laugh himself. Up until this point the last man in the car was riding quietly looking pensive.

His name was James but on the streets they called him Skeletor. He was so thin he looked like a strong breeze would turn him into powder. His eyes were emerald green and full of life. His hair a shock of curly ginger red. A sharp contrast the the other men with their olive complexions,brown eyes, and oily black hair.

"So what are we going to write the good Judge? Am I supposed to paint a sweet red picture on his kitchen wall or what? Maybe hang his dog in his living room? Leave a dead fish on his doorstep? That's what you Italians do right the dead animal shite right?" James voice was as dry and scratchy. Barely above a whisper almost as if he hadn't used it in a year. He was smiling clearly lost in thoughts more morbid than the previous.

"Nahh this one is simple we are just going to take some pot shots at his house do a drive by. I'm going to drop this swastika head band out the car door. He's got a LowBoy murder case in a couple days.

Those bikers are dumb enough to think that shooting at a judge might make him think twice about a guilty verdict. The police will think it's the LowBoys,the Judge might think it's us.Either way he loses sleep gets nervous. After that we head out to Brookwood. Take care of some business. Then off to the land of beers and sweet cheeks. That's our alibi. We were there all night."