Money & Love Don't Mix
already to you dat.” He bitterly replied, before shaking his head and taking a deep breath, “I was worried bout my partnaz and if dey was a’ight or not at first, but now I gotta figure out what I’mma do when these folks take me to court in three days.”
                  “Oh, dat’s w a t dat was, wat dey talkin’ bout my nigga?” Slick shook his head again and said. “Dey having my pre-trail Friday, dat’s three days from now…Dat’s da main reason I been walking round here lookin’ crazy da past few days, cause my homies ‘posed to came and bonded me out. But now I can’t get in touch wit em’ all of a sudden.”
                  “Damn you gotta have some helluva boys if dey ready to pay a hundred some thousand cash bond fo’ you!” He commented being sarcastic as he patted Slick on the back saying, “My nigga I hate to say it, but you already know how dis shit go, nigga’s a tell you anythang on da phone to make dat shit sound good,when dey know damn well dey can’t produce shit…Shit, I’m willing to bet you dats why ain’t none of em’ picking up da phone!”
                  Slick sat and meditated, letting what his roommate said go in one ear and out the other as he left and headed to rec call. He didn’t entertain his negative comments or thoughts since he never discussed his business with him about how they all planned on getting him out, so he just let it be.
    $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $
                  “Hey…Hey P unta! Get up holmes!” The Hispanics demanded as he poured the majority of his bottled water in Dre’s face to wake him up, and the rest in Smoke’s. But neither of them budged, in fact their bodies were so exhausted and weak from being tied up in the dark and cold basement all alone with nothing to eat or drink in the past three days that the splash of water he threw didn’t awake them.
                  After kicking Dre in the gut a few times and  Smoke  in the groin they both woke up to a rude awakening as the Hispanic that Maniac shot in the back stood hovering over them with his machete, while two of his goons stood behind him. One with a uzi aimed at Smoke and the other with a carbon-15 on Dre. The three of them laughed for a moment as they observed Smoke and Dre’s body shake ad shiver with fear they became fully awake. The guy standing before them bent down saying, “You motherfuckers ready to tell me who da’ fuck sent y’all!” as he ripped the duct tape from their mouths for them to respond. But nevertheless they both were feeling as it they had finally met their fate so neither said a word.
                  “Oh, you motherfuckers gonna play pussy and not say anything holmes?! When ya’ll bitches robbed me you wouldn’t stop talking, now that the shoe is on the the other foot ya’ll acting like pussies!” he furiously stated as he became angrier and angrier that they wouldn’t say anything, and noticing the ways he was trying to terrify them weren’t working. So he became a lot more aggressive figuring if he took a different approach, making a lil’ blood  shed they’d get their mind right. So with both hands he raised the machete over his head, getting ready to take aim at Dre’s neck but suddenly Future’s song ‘Magic’ started playing as Smoke’s ringtone. He then paused as he and his two goons patted them both down to see which one of them the music was coming from. They stopped once the found it in Smoke’s right pocket and snatched it out displaying a devious expression as he glanced at it, thinking he was about to finally get to the bottom of everything but the moment he answered hearing “You have a collect call from—” he hung up up without giving the recording a chance to finish. And before he slung the phone across the room, it rung again. He then answered and listened as the voice on the other end told him “You have a collect call from Sean Bradley, an inmate

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