Lesson 5: Don't Fuck With Us

Sammy told us about the guys who messed him up. He was out selling at the time, when this gang came up on him. They told him this was their turf and they didn’t want someone else muscling in on it. They must have been new in the area, since I hadn’t heard of them before this; probably a brand new gang trying to get known. It worked so far, as they left an impression on me. They wanted to make sure he understood, so they roughed him up and took his Meth and money.

We did some sleuthing, and we found the guys who matched the description Sammy gave us. Turns out, they were exactly what we thought, a brand new gang making sure everyone knew they meant business. And here we are, Bill and I, a block away from their crib, waiting for almost all of them to leave. There are only five of them, so we’ll wait until we count four of them leaving. Fortunately for us, there’s a coffee shop a block away with perfect visibility from the front patio.

I sip my espresso, “So, I don’t know what’s going on. I keep seeing him around; he could be stalking us, you know. It’s something to look out for.”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Bill tells me. “We don’t want him calling the cops on us.”

I put down my cup, “That’s what I’m afraid of. But I don’t think we have much to...” I see him looking into the direction of the house intently, “Are they leaving?”

“Yeah, it looks like...Three of them.”

“Okay, and the other one’s still gone?” I ask.

He looks at me, “Could have went in the back, but it looks good.”

“Good enough for me. Let’s do this.”

We walk out and over to the house. I look around, and there’s no one in our immediate vicinity, so I pull out my revolver and make sure it’s still loaded. I flip it closed with a click, and put it back under my jacket. “Ready?” I ask.

He adjusts his jacket slightly, “I was born ready.”

I knock on the door. We wait, but there’s no answer. I can hear loud booming bass playing inside, so I rap on the door much harder this time. We wait, and the door opens this time, opened by a tall, lanky guy. He looks us over quickly, and says, “Can I help you?”

I respond, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you can,” and I nod to Bill.

Bill pushes the kid down on his ass and walks inside. I follow him in, close the door behind me, and lock it. The kid looks shocked, and stutters, “H-hey, do you have any idea who I am?”

The kid scrambles back slightly, and Bill walks toward him, saying, “Why, yes. Yes, we do.”

“And do you have any idea what these are?” I add, as we both pull out our pistols.

The kid freezes, and I tell Bill, “Bring him into the back room. I’m going to check upstairs quick.”

Bill proceeds to grab the kid by his hair and drags him into the other room. The kid screams. I climb the stairs carefully, the music getting louder as I get higher. I push open the door slowly and look around: no one’s there. I check the other rooms, and I don’t find anyone. I head back downstairs and into the back room, where I can hear the kid sobbing, “Don’t kill me, man. Please, don’t kill me.”

I walk through the door and see the kid in a chair, tears all over his face, and Bill’s glock almost right in his mouth. I put my revolver away, “No, we aren’t here to kill you. We’re here to warn you. We’re just messengers, here to tell you that you fucked with the wrong people.”

“No!” he yells. “I’ve never even seen you before!”

Bill tells him, “You don’t even know who we are? You might be out of your element.”

I walk around the room, their kitchen, the kid sobbing the whole while. I turn to him and walk right up to him, “And now, I really want you to remember this.”

I pause, my face close to his. He opens his eyes, and looks utterly terrified.

“DON’T,” I yell this as I knock his chair over backwards. He hits his head hard on the floor, “FUCK,” I kick him as hard as I can in his side, and he reels from the blow, “WITH US!”

I finish off by stomping on his jaw. I can feel his jaw break under the force put forth by my foot. The kid wails in pain, bleeding from his disfigured mouth, and I nod to Bill. We walk out the back door.

We walk a roundabout route back to my place, ever so cautious that no one is following us. I can feel the adrenaline starting to slowly wear off. Bill looks at me, and says, “And now, we wait and see if they retaliate. Better stay ever vigilant.”

“Yeah,” I reply, “we’ll see if they’ve got any balls.”

We laugh.