creole thinks back to what was just said a few moments ago.
He is about to leave, looking around for his jacket. “Yo’ really fuck’in serious aint’cha ?,” he ask.
Slick laughs as he sucks his teeth. Grabbing a toothpick, the killer pays his brother no mind.
“Look, ya’ greasy hair’d pretty fucka’.”
“They already watch’in our asses.”
“It aint gon’ take but’a quick rat fuck fo’em ta’ finally put two and two together. Even them dumb fucks.”
The blonde haired killer looks to Benjamin as he raises his own two fist. Both scarred and mangled, though barely noticeable.
“Ya’ got hands like mine fuck’a .”
“Them menfolk aint g’on get tha’ best of ya’. “
Slick leans back, cocking his well made shoes on Kelly’s dining room table. He can heat his wife upstairs so she will not know. To be honest, his feeling are kind of hurt by Benjamin’s comments. Though the creole will never hear a word edge wise. Out of both men, each very intelligent, Slick shines with his ability to see the whole picture of any situation.
“I’m just say’in all ya’ gotta’ do is chill easy fo’ a few days.”
“We can’t do this shit alone son.”
“Otha’s gotta’ to be involv’d. We murda’ a sheriff and his sons.”
“Those two heffa’s up stairs talk’in bout’ knockin off tha’ women as well, shhhhiittttt.”
“We look’in ta’ be hung fuckin side by side.
“We gon’ bust hell wide open. Take ova’ when we kick the devil’s ass,” Slick laughs.
Benjamin says nothing as he looks at his half brother suspiciously.
“I hate’chu .......,” he sneers.
Slick leans back, crossing his arms. “And ya’ still gon’ do what tha’ fuck I say mutha'fucka. I need ya’ to do this.”
“Look’a hur’. I see ya’ point fo’sho,” the creole says.
“But again fucka’ -- damn I hate repeat’in my damn self. “
“What is yo’ fuck’in plan?,” Benjamin asks once again, almost exasperated. He is ready to punch the blue eyed hustler.
“Look, they watch’in us like chicken hawks to a hen coop already.”
“Imma need ya’ to turn ya’self in,” Slick says.
Instantly the sharp dressed hustler is cut off by Benjamin, getting more and more upset as he talks with his hands. Things are about to get very ugly.
“Hello crazy fucka’!”
“I’mma a negro muth’a-fuck’a!!”
“These cracka’s don’t like negros,” the handsome creole hustler nearly yells, cut off by Slick.
“Take tha’ base out’cha voice in my house nigga,” the blue eyed hustler warns.
“And keep ya fuck’in voice down. Kelly and Sally come down hu’r. I’m lynch’in ya’ myself asshole,” the hustler whispers hoarsely.
Instantly, both men look to the ceiling. They hear gentle notions of laughter. The girls did not hear a thing.
Slick watches as Benjamin sits back down, still upset. “Let me finish asshole.”
Benjamin cocks up his feet on the dining room table as well. His eyes shooting fire at his kin. “Naw nigga. You is finished. Betta yet, you try'in ta’ finish me off.”
“Shit nigga. Ya’ don’t wanna work wit’ me no’ mo’. Just fuck’in say so.” Slick shakes his head without saying a word.
“I mean..... damn. Ya try’in ta’ git’ me kill’d and shit,” Benjamin laments. “Ya’ know’ wha’. I’m tell’in my sista -in-law. She gon’ be all in tha’ ass nigga.”
Slick deadpans the creole. “She already kno’s asshole.”
The creole shakes his head dramatically. “Damn. My whole fuck’in family try’in ta’ have me hang fru’m a fuck’in tree. Its a damn fuck’in conspiracy,” the hustler says as Slick grins, trying his best to keep a straight face.
Benjamin quickly looks to his kin. ‘We gotta take this outside mane. I wann’a beat ya’ sum'thin real bad right naw fuck’a.”
“Its rain’in outside asshole .........,” Slick says, choking down a chuckle. Trying his best to not break out in giggles.
Suddenly, from the kitchen, Hilda the house cook looks in. “Who belly’ach’in like all dat’ thu'r?,” the cooks grins.
Slick grins to the cook. Benjamin. His panties all in a fuck’in bunch,” Slick grins.
That was it. The creole glares at his baby brother. “Nigga. I’mma beat’cha so bad. Mama gon’ come back fr’um tha’ grave jus’ ta’ save ya’ ass,” Benjamin laments, right as Hilda slips back in the kitchen.
“Dontch’yall break nu’thin. Kelly gon’ beat tha’ shit out of yall both.”
Instantly Benjamin yells toward the kitchen. “Aint'cha got shit ta’ cook. Git ta’ wu’rk,” he grins.
Quickly Hilda peeps around the corner, looking to Slick.
“Slick, baby.....is he talk’in ta’ me? Tell ya’ brutha I will beat’em wit’ all this’hur’ gu’d pussy,” the older cook laughs out loud.
Benjamin comically frowns with a chuckle. “I think my dick jus’ ran away .....”
Slick sighs heavily, looking up heavenwards. “Dear drunk Mary. I kno’ right naw
is cocktail hour in heav’n.”
“But please ma’am. Put su’m tape on this nigga hur’s mouth.”
“Thank ya’ lawd. Kiss Baby Jesus.”
“Yeah....amen,” the hustler prays with a chuckle.
Benjamin is silent, holding in his chuckles.
Sighing, slick crosses his arms. “Ya finish’d yet asshole....?
The
