Thirst for revenge
[OOC: follows the events seen in "The Bad Beginning"]
"Damn that bitch!" Zain Taylor, alias Stinky Breath, grunts to his plaster arm cast. "I kill her!"
It's a cold night. Four boys are standing in a alley, leaning against the damp, graffiti covered walls.
"Who?" Scottie Sanchez asks, in a casual tone of voice. He has his hands shoved deep into his pockets and the collar of his jacket pulled up, as though protecting his neck from the chill.
"Barbie Puerto Rico," Lars Price sneers, blowing out the smoke of the marijuana cigarette they are sharing.
"Who?!" Scottie frowns. The boy is the oldest of the gang; he has been out of junior high and on the streets for over one year now. Ever since what his fellows do in school doesn't matter to him.
"Mary Anders Wayne," Quentin Shaw answers as he cranes to peer at the darkness out of the alley. When the hell are the others going to show up? He's freezing his ass off out there. "Latest addition to Bruce VAIN's endless collection of underage lovers".
"A seventh grade chick in our school," Lars can't help sneering again, because - come on! - it's just hilarious! "She beat the crap out of Zain and then broke his arm!"
"Fuck off Price! And pass the blasted joint over here!" Stinky Breath yells. He snatches the weed out of Lars's hand and takes a hit. That bitch! That FREAKING bitch! That little SHITTY Mexican! "She was just lucky, tell you what!" He spits, "We are gonna get her and give Little Miss Sunshine a good beating! I fucking wanna... peel the skin off her face!"
Lars barks another laughter, he's totally stoned. Quentin pretends not to listen and keeps watching the dark.
Scottie glances at Zain and shakes his head: "Don't screw things up at school too much. We don't want to draw attention."
Zain gives the older boy a dirty look.
The story of the broken arm drew a lot of attention to them already. And too much attention is no good for their little business of drug pushing and delivering.
"Shit!" he hisses, spitting the butt of the joint away.
"EHY!" Lars doesn't laugh anymore, it was his turn to take a drag!
"Shut your trap!" Zain growls. Then he turns to Scottie again: "Listen, I'm not gonna fuck things up, but I'm not gonna let the girl get away with it either! She broke my goddamn ARM!" And her eyes... he can't forget those eyes. The look upon her face was so... merciless...
Zain is too macho to admit that the chick scared the daylights out of him.
And he HATED that.
"Here they are," Quentin announces tersely. Their suppliers have arrived.
"Zain, no messing up." Scottie repeats, straightening. "You wanna teach the chick a lesson? Fine, do it. But DON'T blow it, really."
Or next time *their Boss* might be the one wanting to break some part of Zain Taylor.
"Damn that bitch!" Zain Taylor, alias Stinky Breath, grunts to his plaster arm cast. "I kill her!"
It's a cold night. Four boys are standing in a alley, leaning against the damp, graffiti covered walls.
"Who?" Scottie Sanchez asks, in a casual tone of voice. He has his hands shoved deep into his pockets and the collar of his jacket pulled up, as though protecting his neck from the chill.
"Barbie Puerto Rico," Lars Price sneers, blowing out the smoke of the marijuana cigarette they are sharing.
"Who?!" Scottie frowns. The boy is the oldest of the gang; he has been out of junior high and on the streets for over one year now. Ever since what his fellows do in school doesn't matter to him.
"Mary Anders Wayne," Quentin Shaw answers as he cranes to peer at the darkness out of the alley. When the hell are the others going to show up? He's freezing his ass off out there. "Latest addition to Bruce VAIN's endless collection of underage lovers".
"A seventh grade chick in our school," Lars can't help sneering again, because - come on! - it's just hilarious! "She beat the crap out of Zain and then broke his arm!"
"Fuck off Price! And pass the blasted joint over here!" Stinky Breath yells. He snatches the weed out of Lars's hand and takes a hit. That bitch! That FREAKING bitch! That little SHITTY Mexican! "She was just lucky, tell you what!" He spits, "We are gonna get her and give Little Miss Sunshine a good beating! I fucking wanna... peel the skin off her face!"
Lars barks another laughter, he's totally stoned. Quentin pretends not to listen and keeps watching the dark.
Scottie glances at Zain and shakes his head: "Don't screw things up at school too much. We don't want to draw attention."
Zain gives the older boy a dirty look.
The story of the broken arm drew a lot of attention to them already. And too much attention is no good for their little business of drug pushing and delivering.
"Shit!" he hisses, spitting the butt of the joint away.
"EHY!" Lars doesn't laugh anymore, it was his turn to take a drag!
"Shut your trap!" Zain growls. Then he turns to Scottie again: "Listen, I'm not gonna fuck things up, but I'm not gonna let the girl get away with it either! She broke my goddamn ARM!" And her eyes... he can't forget those eyes. The look upon her face was so... merciless...
Zain is too macho to admit that the chick scared the daylights out of him.
And he HATED that.
"Here they are," Quentin announces tersely. Their suppliers have arrived.
"Zain, no messing up." Scottie repeats, straightening. "You wanna teach the chick a lesson? Fine, do it. But DON'T blow it, really."
Or next time *their Boss* might be the one wanting to break some part of Zain Taylor.