When I walk in, his feet are on the kitchen table and the beer is on his lips. I stroll to the fridge and take a bottle for myself.
“You know that's not your desk, right? You can't put your filthy feet where I eat my dinner.” I sit down.
“I'm your president, I can do whatever I want.”
Debatable.
Rage sighs loudly, let me translate that for you, he’s trying to tell me that there is something wrong with him and wants to talk about it but, you have to pull the information out of him. That’s Rage.
“What’s going on now?”
“Do you know a club called Amazon's?”
“Never heard of them,” I shake my head as I drink my beer. “Why?”
Rage leans over the table, he looks worried.
“Buffalo wants me to take them out, he says they're growing on our territory and are posing a threat to us.”
That's MC 101 for ya.
I’m usually the guy who makes a new club in the hood disappear, but this time I don't bet on the best buyer.
“And by tell me this you mean...I have a job to do?”
Rage shakes his head. “No, he wantsmeto do it, I'm about to go hunting.”
“Well, I definitely don't envy you that.” I give the bottle a deep kiss and I finish the yellowish contents in one go.
Then I burp like a pig.
Two seconds later, Rage does the same thing.
“Mi casa, su casa.” I tell Rage.
He gets up from his chair, leaving the remains of his bottle on the table and starts walking towards the door, before taking the knob, he stops, and I know he’s about to say something embarrassing.
“Say hello to her for me, will you?”
I know who he's talking about, he just doesn’t want to say her name.
“I will.” I say, feeling sorry for my friend.
“I'm taking your Harley.”
I don't have time to answer, he's already on my bike.
This motherfucker.
