That Time I Was A Crack Dealer

I'd been extremely skeptical but I had to admit, from what I’d seen in the movies anyways, it looked like crack.

Jose’ took the bar of Ivory soap, chunked it up just so, hit it with some yellow food coloring and voila’-Pookie himself would’ve offered to suck your dick for a sample. Times were lean. We’d spent all my money, pay day was a week away, Jose’ hadn’t been able to re-up his stash, shit was tight. We didn’t even have bammer for us to smoke. When he said he had a plan to score some quick cash, I had no idea it involved dealing faux crack rock. No arguments though, I’d gotten used to craziness every time I came to see him, anything different would’ve been safe and boring.

“You sure Ol’girl gon’ be any good to us?” Danny asked while giving me the stink eye. “The bitch almost got you popped the last time you tried to get her to do some shit.”

He was referring to the incident that happened a couple weeks before when I’d taken Jose’ to the store for some toilet paper. I’d parked in front of the crappy little Korean owned shop on busy ass Michigan Avenue without the slightest inkling that moments later, he’d jump back in the car, arms full of stolen shit.  I didn’t pull out fast enough like he demanded, the angry Asian store clerk made it to the car, furiously banging on his window, forcing him to relinquish his ghetto pirate’s booty. The Funyuns, the toilet paper, the Pepsi AND the bathtub stopper. Who steals a fucking .59 bathtub stopper? He was ridiculous.

“O.k., first off- I told you to stop calling me a bitch.” I was pissed. “Second-maybe he should’ve told me what he was going to do so I could’ve been prepared. The shit caught me off guard, traffic was crazy. I’m not just gonna shoot out and cut some body off, I’m a courteous driver you Dick!”

A loud laugh from Jose’ ensured that I’d won so Danny shut the fuck up, that’s how things worked.

I talked a big game but really, it freaked me out beyond belief. I’d hoped that I’d failed so miserably that he’d never put me in the situation again. This was different though, not really stealing so much as scamming people who were scummier than us. I’d drive, Jose’ would run his spiel on the crack heads and just in case any drama jumped off, Danny would be in the backseat armed to the teeth with a fully –loaded-super soaker. They both agreed anything more would be overkill. Blasts of Ice cold water to the face would prove more than effective to a January crack head in Detroit.  There was also the shared belief that it would be hilarious.

“Ding! I think we got another winner.” Jose’ removed the cinnamon toothpick from his mouth, using it to gesture like a maestro conducting a bleak symphony. She was a shivering ghost of a woman, rail thin, sloshing around in icy grey soup on the corner.

So far we’d had moderate success with two takers. The moment the swap went down, I punched it (that was key) and everything went smooth as silk. We we’re up 40 bucks, at least enough to get us high, buy some gas and McDonald’s  but it still wasn’t enough to satiate Jose’s greedy nature. There were three bags left which meant three more chances to make money, three more chances for some crazy shit to pop off. 

Ultimately, the latter was always more important to him.

“You holdin’?” she whispered through crusty, candy corn teeth.

“I got you girl” Jose’ assured, hand opening just enough to flash the product. “Twenty bones.”

Our potential customer let out a defeated exhale before stepping back from his window.  As she began searching frantically in the pockets of her useless faux rabbit jacket, I finally acquired the nerve to get a good look at her. Probably in her thirties, looked to be in her fifties, dirty yellow hair, spindly spider legs almost completely blue from exposure, I assumed the pleather mini skirt was just for sex appeal.  Her finger nails the most vibrant thing about her, bright red, not a chip, the only visible part of the person she used to be that remained on life support.

“Nah man, nah…I ain’t got no money..But …but…” she scrambled finally finding what she’d been digging for, unfurling a sorry bag of weed... “I got this bud, it’s worth it, we can trade.”

Jose’ snatched the cloudy, worn sandwich bag from her trembling hand, eye ballin’ the fuck out of it.

“Are you fuckin’ serious bitch? This ain’t even bam-bam, this shit look like fuckin’ grass clippin’s! I ain’t givin’ you shit for this!” Jose’ yelled before chucking her offering back at her wretched face.

Danny and I exchanged confused glances. I could tell he felt the same. What the hell was Jose’ doing?  Getting all indignant on this chick for trying to undercut us on fake crack was nutty, made no sense.  This was the moment when I finally realized how low “making sense” fell on his list of priorities. Pride was paramount to Jose’ and how dare some stupid crack head think she was gonna “get over” on HIM.  

“No please! Please!” she begged, faded blue eyes welling with tears “I haven’t had nuthin’ since Tuesday, man…I’m hurtin’.”

It’s easy to think of crack heads as simple, interchangeable hood characters until you get up close and witness how real their pain is. I connected with her desperation, her driving desire to implode, we were just taking different paths, hers being more concentrated and immediate, mine abstract but still very much in motion.  

“C’mon man…just give it to her Dawg…let’s move on. Shit.” Danny kicked his two cents in from the back, fed up.

Jose’ sat there silently contemplating the possibility of losing nothing, the bogus mental struggle twisting his mouth into a grimace.

“O.k., gimme that bullshit.” He conceded.

Like I said, our M.O. up until that point had been successful- simultaneous exchange- peel out-smoothness.

 Jose’s discord gave way to complacency this go around though, giving our patron some lag time to get a good luck at her purchase before I could stomp on the gas.  Turned out she was craftier than he’d given her credit for and knew almost immediately that we’d fucked her.

“Nigga this ain’t crack!!!”  

Her scream stabbed my eardrums as I tenderly punched the gas, crappy 4 cylinder Ford straining under the pressure of mediocre necessity. The Tempo did 0-60 mph in 3 minutes flat, the perfect choice for a getaway car if you’re not all that concerned about getting away.  

This time she was the one throwing baggies of bullshit at Jose’s face before forcing her bony arm inside the door jam, latching on like a hungry, nursing baby being swindled of a tit.

“I want my craaaack!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” she squalled, running alongside, keeping up with us.

“Fuckin’ GOOO!!!” Jose demanded while he tried to pry her hands free and push her to the ground.  

I was doing about 10mph, to go any faster may have caused her injury, something I knew I couldn’t live with. My conscience had cracks, it wasn’t gone.

“Suck on this bitch!!!”

 Danny’s zeal was nothing short of “Die Hard-ian” as he snaked the barrel between the seats, finally getting to unload round after round of freezing tap water from the pump action Super Soaker into the mug of a disgruntled customer.  He’d waited patiently all day just for a chance at this but to his dismay, it was having an adverse effect. Each blast to the head only seemed to enrage her even more, add to her strength, like she was some sort of Crack Hulk. To all of our surprise, instead of letting go, she chose Jose’s throat as a better anchor, choking the fuck out of him while still keeping pace with a moving vehicle.  If there were a crack Olympics, our girl would’ve taken the gold.

Through choked out gasps, Jose’ continued to plead with me to speed up. All of Danny’s ammo was spent, he’d taken to slapping her while Jose’ (not having enough room to do much else) punched at her chest. I didn’t know what to do since either way; our mark was going to get hurt. As Jose’ fished his hand between my console, searching for the mag-lite flashlight, I could only assume that smacking her upside the skull with heavy metal would inflict more damage than what would happen if shook her loose.  The choice was clear.

Making sincere eye contact with Crack Hulk for the first time, we had a moment where it was just us, two girls, sticking together in the quest to ruin ourselves. We wouldn’t be denied and I would help her avoid the most painful outcome because I cared.

Silently I mouthed to her “I’m sorry”.  I convinced myself that she nodded. She didn’t.

Then- I floored it.

She kept up till almost 30 mph (incredibly impressive) before tripping into a crocodile death roll down the middle of the street. Jose’ and Danny exploded into laughter as we sat at the stop sign, watching her get to her feet, dusting off the snow, recovering from a terrible dismount.

Both of Crack Hulk’s middle fingers jutted in the air HARD, probably hoping if she executed those double birds with enough ferocity, we’d feel her red nails piercing our assholes. I felt them all over.

“Ha-ha! Look at her dawg! Ohhh...she mad!” Danny exclaimed.

“She mad?” Jose’ mockingly questioned. “Look at this fuckin’ sack of crap! Bitch is lucky I don’t take the wheel from Steph, go back and run her ass over!”

They both died.

Failing to see the comedy Jose’ and Danny had found in the state of affairs, I refrained from the giggle fest. The comprehension that every time I thought I’d sunk as low as I could, I hadn’t, was fucking up my swirling brain. There were so many layers of “Shit Bag” still yet to achieve if I just kept coming back. It wasn’t the goal, it was just happening and it was getting easier every time I hit a new level in the game.

That Time I Was Retarded

The fact that I’d volunteered to take Carol to her dental appointment ALONE should’ve been a huge clue to my manager that scheming was afoot.  It was completely against protocol, Carol required two staff present at all times but we’d had another mass round of folks quitting again, forces were depleted, Carol being a primary reason for this. Her behaviors were intense, she could fuck you up and the craziness of dealing with the constant threat of being attacked by a vicious, retarded girl was far too much for most people to consider at $5.25 an hour. She also happened to be just one of the 6 aggressive, mentally challenged individuals that resided at Beechwood. I had low standards in every aspect of my life at the time so I didn’t mind the meat grinder as much. Sometimes I even liked the craziness, the fear was a rush and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t take pride in the fact that it was too grueling for most. They were pussies.

Only one Dentist within 100 miles had the testicle fortitude to clean Carol’s teeth. If she had an appointment, it was imperative to keep it since the Doctor made sure he had no clients immediately before or after she came just in case she blew a gasket and tried to kick our asses, which even with her standing at only 4”9, was a real possibility. My argument was that she’d been on a good run the last couple of days, we all knew the other bitch, her other personality, came in cycles like a mental period and she wasn’t due to make us bleed for another couple days. Begrudgingly, my manager complied, allowing my stupid plan to bloom.

“No she’s doing fine” I lied into the payphone to my boss. “Seriously, I think I’m going to hit a drive through for lunch and take her to the park for awhile.”

The reality being that Carol was trippin’ pretty hard. 

During the exam, she flipped and gouged the shit out of my forearms with her nails as I tried to hold her still while Dr. Big Balls finished blasting the tartar off her molars.  She’d settled down enough to get her out the door and all the way to the back of the 15 passenger slate blue GMC van, the safest and only place for her.  Once the seat belt was buckled, Carol would usually stay put. Only on the rarest of occasions would she remove the strap and charge while we were in motion, a key reason she was all the way in the back, it allowed time to formulate a defense.  If you’ve never had your hair pulled or been choked while doing 65 mph down the freeway, I assure you that it’s just as much fun as it sounds.

Yet, I would not be deterred. We weren’t that far from Jose’s, an unusual situation that I was determined to capitalize on.  His neighborhood looked even worse in the daylight and it was startling to see so many prostitutes working the lunch hour shift on a Tuesday. They must’ve been doing well or have seriously slave driving pimps to warrant the plethora milling about like schools of decaying fish. Carol’s mood seemed to darken with every turn as if the scenery itself were controlling her, forcing the other “her” to the surface.

“I hit people bitch!!  I hit people!!”  Carol’s index finger pointed straight at her face as she threatened anyone within arm’s reach. The other one would hurt Carol as well as any unlucky soul she could sink her claws, teeth or fists into. It was worth a fresh scratch or bite mark to feed my new found addiction. We we’re so close now, 2 blocks away.

“O.k. Carol, o.k…. you want a cheeseburger?  Wouldn’t that be good?”  Desperation was the only thing that would even get me to try to reason with the evil one, it was always too late when she started that “I hit people” shit, that meant defcon 4, oblivion was emanate.

I just assumed her screaming was what stirred the concerned looks from Jose’ and his crew as we pulled to a stop in front of his crib. They were hanging out on the porch like people without jobs do in the hood on a weekday. Still cold, but actually sunny for the first time in weeks, even a piece of shit like Southwest Detroit looks more promising when it’s illuminated, draws the roaches out.

Jose’ ambled down the crooked steps of the small porch bursting with lower case G’s, an air of caution  about him that signified much more than a fear of slipping on the icy sidewalk.  His eyes squinted under his signature fitted, black ball cap.

“That’s right bitch!!! I KILL PEOPLE!!!” Carol squalled like a maniac from the back and for some reason this elicited a slow, easy smile from my human drug. Instantly Jose’ appeared at ease, turned to his audience and assured them all was well.

“Shit girl, don’t be doin’ that. You had these muh fuckers scared as hell rolling up in this fuckin thing. We thought we was straight up busted. I heard one of your people’s though, remembered that crazy shit you told me and I connected the dots.”

Unbeknownst to me, the group home van looked EXACTLY like a Detroit “Gang Squad” unit. They were identical, right down to the tinted back glass. We both used it for covert purposes, ours to conceal madness from the general public, they to mask the identity of police officers attempting to squash madness IN the hood republic.

Jose’ jumped into the passenger seat and almost immediately, Carol went dead silent.

“We were just..in the area..so, I dunno, thought I’d pop by..say “hi”.” I sounded so pitiful, like the typical dumbass bitch that gets rapped about so frequently.

“Nah..that’s cool…real cool” he almost whispered as his body strayed across the wide open space between the captain chairs, hand squeezing my right breast as hot, Dentyne breath burned my neck. I’d almost forgotten about Carol until her NICE friends came to visit.

“Ahh…ahh…ahhh…HEY…It’s a bumblebee…Heyyyyyyyyyy…it’s a BUM-BLE-bee” she sing talked while looking down the cuffs of her Parka, tiny face exploding into full bliss. This meant we were good, bumblebee’s in her coat sleeves meant drama had been abated, they chased the evil one away, she’d be fine for hours.

Jose’ stopped molesting my chest long enough to introduce himself.

“Hey Carol. What’s up girl? You got some bee’s in yo jacket? That’s fuckin’ cool as hell.”

So he was sweet in bed AND to retarded people. That was enough for me. He could be a crazy son of a bitch the rest of the time, it only added to his hotness.

Carol was over the moon. Being asked about her coat bee’s elicited a little girl’s laughter, making it simple to forget what a brutal monster lurked inside of her at all times. Something about Jose’ had charmed her. Maybe the evil “her” sensed he was more dangerous than she could ever compel Carol to become. Whatever it was, her nutty ass was completely pliable.

“Well, we we’re going to grab some lunch from Burger King. You wanna come with us?” I asked coyly, like we hadn’t fucked five times a couple of nights ago. 5 times, all ending in amazing climaxes and now I was his dick zombie, it completely controlled me.

With no shame, he made sure I was “buying” before agreeing to my proposal.

“Hey, after we eat, I got a funny fuckin’ idea we need to do if you’re down.”

I was “down” for what-ever-he-said.

After we ate in the parking lot, Jose’ instructed me to stop at a dumpy liquor store.

“Gimme 10 bucks.” He demanded before ejecting and sauntering into the dingy joint, sportin’ his best pimp stroll.

“Put this on.”

He’d purchased a plain, black ball cap very similar to his own and asked if I could pull my hair back. I started to figure out where this was going.

“Put this in.”

First song on his mixtape was Ice Cube’s “My Summer Vacation”, a tune I was very familiar with, satirically loving gangsta rap from its inception. It was something that seemed to impress him which in turn, made my crotch sweat.

“Turn here and hit this.”

I made the left while taking a toke off the blunt he’d just twisted up on the group home van’s mileage log binder. It reminded me that I’d have to come up with something good to fake the miles we were racking up.

“O.k., slow down…just creep. You seem them fools up there on the corner?”

I did.

“When I say so, fuckin’ peel, punch it, got it?” His grin was as sinister as any I’d ever seen.

“NOW!”

The small shred of responsible adult that I tried to stamp out emerged briefly as I slammed on the gas, requiring a glance in the rearview to assess Carol’s state. She and her bee’s appeared to be having the time of their lives.  Maybe we just didn’t get into enough crazy shit to satisfy her blood lust, that’s why the wickedness seeped out with no choice but to beat the crap out of us. I was totally rationalizing endangering a mentally challenged person under my care to lasso the affection of a sociopath, no qualms about it.

All nine of the dudes holding down the corner of Central and Mcgraw were clad in red and black, Latin Count colors. They didn’t notice us until we were almost right on top of them, scattering in every direction, various things from their waist bands and pockets, guns, drugs, etc… being thrown into bushes, sewer grates as they scrambled for freedom.

“Cut it up on the curb!!!”  he cried out like a general giving the final command before a crushing victory.

As any good soldier would do, I heeded my superior’s orders, in the process cutting off the escape of the fattest deserter. I figured he must’ve been the guy with the Malcom X jacket, the one that started the “Yo momma” joke about a helicopter landing on your back because he was fucking enormous and the “X” was stretched to capacity. There was another joke to be made in regards to him being a Mexican in a Malcom X coat but that would have to wait for another time. Not a drop of fighting spirit as he laced his stumpy fingers together behind his head, defeat and jail time washing over his saddened, ham eatin’ jowls.  

The windows in the front of the van were a lighter tint, just enough to shadow two people wearing hats. Jose’ slowly rolled his side down, a cloud of dank pot smoke sneaking out at an equal pace.

“What up Atomic?”  he asked our perp with the polite casualness of a waiter inquiring if he’d like to start off the meal with some jalapeno poppers.

“Jose’? You stupid muh-fucker! Damn dawg, damn! How you gonna play a nigga like that? I threw my fuckin’ dope in a goddamn snow bank Punk!!”

Jose’ was holding his sides, bent in half, howling. It went viral, I started laughing just as hard, never once contemplating what could have happened if one of those guys had been a little harder and drew on us.

“Shit” he squeezed out in between cackles “It ain’t my fault you’sa pussy ass bitch.” 

Atomic dug through the snow, still mad as he wanted to be, searching frantically for his product. 

The laughing started again, this time it was Carol. I was pretty sure she didn't understand what had just happened, it was just the chaos she found humorous. Jose’ loved her.

“That’s right Carol, Atomic’s dumb as hell. Shit’s funny ain’t it girl? Yeah it is. Stupid, fat muh-fucker.”

I could only imagine how low Atomic’s self esteem would plummet upon the discovery he was being made fun of by a retarded chick.

“Well damn, you can at least give a nigga ride after pullin’ some ho shit like that. You shut the whole fuckin’ corner down with this bullshit. Hope you happy, makin’ nigga’s lose money, shit is wack.”

To Jose’s credit, he actually asked if it was cool before telling Atomic to climb in, as if there were a chance I’d say no to any request he made. I was gone.

Our new passenger was completely comfortable with Carol, asking her questions like where she was from, did she have any brothers or sisters, stuff I never knew or cared enough to find out. She answered every question with a “yes” or “no”, elaborations beyond that were impossible for her. Then he pulled out his Glock.

“What’s this Carol?” Atomic held the gun up in the air, displaying it, causing me to tense up hard.

I glanced over at Jose’ biting my lip, fighting back my objections but to my relief he was on my side.

“Ay man, ay…” Jose said diplomatically “chill with that shit. You gon’ scare her. Put your piece away man.”  

Shockingly, before he could, Carol gave an extremely stoic answer.

“Gun.”

Atomic was thrilled. “That’s right, that’s right, and what do you do with a gun Carol?”

With a sneaky smile and without a second’s delay, she responded.

“Shoot people.”

“Oh snap!” Jose’ exclaimed. “Carol’s a fuckin’ G…ha-ha-ha….damn!”

I’d taken Carol to a dangerous neighborhood in the company van, pretended to be cops conducting a bust, and exposed her to criminals who put her in close proximity to a loaded firearm as a joke. What happened to be the worst thing I’d done in my life ironically seemed to make Carol happier than I’d ever seen her. Maybe Jose’ was right. Maybe Carol was a “G” and the evil “her” that crept out was just the part of her personality that raged with resentment for being restrained in Suburbia when she should’ve been strapped with a gat, slangin’ rocks and pimpin’ ho’s.

Maybe that was it or maybe, and probably most likely, we were both retarded.

That Time We Ruined the Movies

 

“What the hell is this shit?” Jose’ whispered snappily.

 

Apparently watching two dudes make out hardcore wasn’t something he was used to. This kind of took me by surprise considering he’d spent two years in the Federal Pen. Wasn’t that like day one shit? Dude’s making out? I fought back against my chuckles, stifling them as best I could. Just moments before during the stripper scene, I’d felt his hand inching up the inside of my thigh. The theater was light, not many people coming out to see “Exotica”. We certainly hadn’t intended to endure it either but everything else was sold out. I didn’t protest as his fingers crept closer to where they wanted to be, the whole situation a cliché’ turn on.  Then the tides shifted and the male characters started getting extremely familiar, there might as well have been a bear trap between my legs after that.

“I didn’t pay for this gay shit.” He was getting louder now, restraint a fading priority.

“Shhh…” I pleaded. “Calm down. And I paid for this shit so…chill. O.k.?”

Jose’ pulled his black baseball cap lower over his intimidating glare. Those eyes, they were green or brown...something...some color. What I remember most is that they were formidable, always calculating, sizing up how he was going “get over”, how he’d win.  His homophobic anger was clearly getting the best of him as he balled his fists, bopping them against the arm rests.

“Let’s go.” I started to grab my purse and stand but he pulled that “Mom move”, where they slam on the brakes, arm extending, blocking me back down.

“Nah…fuck that. Wait. I’m going to the bathroom.”

In a nanosecond, he’d sprung from his seat with dedicated purpose, gone up the aisle, leaving only the faint smell of Polo and midgrade leather from his 8-Ball jacket, standard issue for ghetto dickheads in the mid-nineties.

Jesus Christ. Was he going to choke out the projectionist?  This was a legitimate concern going by our last date. It was low key in the Cobo Hall bar, sports on all the t.v.’s, being enjoyed by a mix of the Detroit populous. Middle class, business types, peppered with a few thugs like my escort. Guys from every walk of life seemed to dig watching amateur fighters beat the shit out of each other at the annual “Tough man Competition.” Jose’ was dragging his long tongue across my wrist, licking the salt before he downed the next tequila shot, so confident. Maybe the bartender did look at him wrong; I don’t know for sure, my eyes never left my arm molester’s, I was drowning. If he did, I’m certain he wasn’t expecting to have the “peeling of caps” and what not being threatened his way. I’d also venture a guess it was the first time in his fifty or so years alive that the clean cut barkeep had been called a “Trick ass bitch” which seemed to be quite a difficult experience for him.

He backed down. I liked it way more than a rational person should.

 “What’d I miss?” Jose’ was practically whimsical as he plopped down beside me. “Did another fag show up and jam’em both in the ass with a fuckin’ golf club?”

The bill on his hat still sat low, only now it attempted to conceal a smile that was so large, it was splitting his face.

Then the coughing began.

It was sporadic at first, just here and there in the back but then it spread, washing over, enveloping, marching towards us. Every new victim incited a disturbing, muffled laugh from my companion which ultimately morphed into a howl when the young black girl in the next row got upset.

 “What the fuck is happenin’?!! Are we in mutha-fuckin’  “Outbreak” or sumthin’?!!”

Indeed.

That’s when it hit me, what he’d done, my eyes were stinging, it was in my lungs now too as the involuntary hacking took over. The only other time I’d felt this way was a week prior at Jose’s when he decided to test the pepper spray he’d acquired on trade for a twenty sack. Merely a drop cleared the ten of us out his flat for over an hour.  Going by the size of this place and how fucked up everyone was, he’d released quite a bit more this go around.  The expression on his face as he coughed and laughed is not anything I can accurately describe. It was of that moment, existing only then and never again.  

Through the burning hacks I was able to squeak out “You asshole…”

Then the lights came on.  

“Ladies..(cough)...Gentleman... (cough), someone has released some sort of chemical in the air (cough), we think its pepper spray.” The young usher was majorly pissed. “Please stop by the ticket counter on your way out and we will refund your (cough) money. And to whoever did this- YOU are a terrible person.”

The frustrated high school kid was correct. Whoever did this was a terrible, crafty, devious human being and I’d decided that if he tried to have sex with me that night, I would totally comply.

 “Y’all need to get your shit together” he chastised as we left the ticket booth, encouraging an uprising. “First I get some crazy ass macin’ me, then I gotta stand here forever waitin’ to get my money back. Fuck-ing- non-sense.”

He was completely delusional, fucked in the head and exactly the counterpart I’d been searching for over the last several months. Jose’ would surely apply the pressure to smash my self-destruct button all the way down and get this thing done once and for all. Those cats on the other side of Michigan Avenue still retained some sort of sanity, they were just training. This guy appeared to be a true connoisseur of self –annihilation and I knew that once we slept together, there would be no turning back.

 

 

 

 

That Time I Tried To Jack Those Weak Suckers For Their Hooded Starters

There’s this weird intangible that makes a person believe that what they’re doing, whatever that may be, isn’t horrible and that they’re not a turd. I found myself tapping into that most excellent of delusional powers  as I sat freezing my ass off in a 1985 Ford Tempo, staring down a bleak Detroit street with filthy snow plowed up on either side like reverse Tsunami waves.  I mean, I wasn’t the one doing the robbing here, just the getaway driver. That’s not the same. Not the same at all. In fact, it wasn’t until Danny told me to pull over and pop the hood so he could retrieve his pistol from underneath my Sears Diehard, that I even realized they were really about to do something with it.

“Hey Girl, lemme just put my heater under your battery on the way to Mickey D’s…You know, it’s late, you driving a bunch of Latino, thug looking mother fuckers around. Just in case we get pulled over.”

Seemed legit in my fictional reality but the truth is…”legit”… when you’re dealing with these sorts of assholes…there’s no such thing.

 Like I said, you make yourself believe lots of things are cool when you’re an idiot who has become a slave to wants and desires, selfishness owns every decision.  In this case it was the hottest fuck of my 21 years. What he said, I did. He says “Take my boys to McDonald’s”; I take his boys to McDonald’s. He says “Don’t worry bout that gun under your hood”…..done.  Why I pulled over at Danny’s command? The only reason was that I just assumed that’s what Jose’ would have wanted.  I had to guess since he had chosen to remain behind and peddle his weed instead.

What I was even doing here was a mystery.  A year ago I had a flannel wrapped around my waist at a Pearl Jam concert. Now Tupac’s Thug Life was repeatedly ejected and turned over in my tape deck and unlike my obsession with N.W.A. in high school, it wasn’t ironic. I was really living this shit out in the whitest way possible, gripping the steering wheel in a terror induced death lock while I awaited my hood shaman to reappear with their confiscated spoils.  

“There we go...these three…right here….” Danny’s voice was so very creepy when he slowed it down like that. It always seemed as though something terrible would jump out of his sentences and bite after he slipped into “gangster” mode and I never wanted to be bitten. 

The three young black guys couldn’t have been more than 16 or 17 and I have no idea if they were good or bad, just that they had made the unwise decision to walk around Southwest Detroit in their brand new winter Starter jackets. It was still early in January, they were most likely Christmas presents or maybe they ganked them from some other kids. Either way, they were being shopped and about to be receiving new owners.

“Alright, so what you’re telling me is that I should pull on to the other street, let you guys out and you’re gonna double back and steal those dude’s coats? That’s what you’re telling me?”  I had to say it out loud just to make sure it sounded as retarded as I thought. It did.

“Was I fuckin’ stutterin’ girl? Yeah, do exactly that shit and then Pop-O and Lil’C will buy you a Big Mac. Ha-ha…” Danny was kinda funny sometimes, not so much at that moment, but sometimes.

“Mannnn… I ain’t buyin’ this bitch shit” Pop-O protested from the back seat. “She lucky we let her drive us around.”

It was after that remark that my ire was stoked and I had to tell Pop-O that if he wanted a ride back, then he’d need to quit being a faggot to me. It’s not that I thought I was some badass or anything, I just knew he was one of the nicest in the group. A chubby little Columbian who they picked on for being fat, he talked to me about his family when the dicks weren’t around so I wasn’t surprised when he apologized.

“Goddamit” I exhaled as came to a stop in one of the carved out parking spots of the urban tundra. “This is so stupid you guys.”

“This is so stupid you guys, like o.k.? Like..for sure?” Danny mocked in a valley girl voice. “You’re stupid for bringin’ your suburb ass down here and tryin’ to play rough. Either you’re in or not, cuz if we come running back to this car and you gone, I ain’t gonna “play” rough. I’ll straight up murder yo ass girl, I know where you live.” 

Not joking, not funny, he was scary. Even still more frightening at the time was the prospect of never being welcome in Jose’s bed again. My crotch shuddered at the very thought as Danny smoothed out his perfectly groomed jet black goatee, studying my face for true compliance.

“Yeah, well I’m not gonna bail o.k.? So you don’t have to get all Nino Brown and shit on me. Just go. Fuckin’ gaffle your jackets or what-ever- the- hell -you’re going to do. It’s late and I’m hungry.”  

I think I thought that if I just said it like that, like it was no big deal, then it wouldn’t be “accessory to a felony”. More like a misdemeanor type thing, nothing to get so worked up about.

Lil’ C never said a word, not then, not ever. That must be why Danny gave the gun to him when they started down the street. The strong silent type usually keep their mouths shut or at least Steve McQueen probably would’ve and I guess that kid was kinda like their greasy little anti-hero. 

They disappeared into the shadows between two of the old, typical Detroit row houses and my heart began its ascent to critical palpitations. I imagined myself in Wayne County lockup, having to take a shit in front of a room full of strangers, my worst nightmare. Then it morphed into a couple years later when I’d fought off all the smaller women because I was stout, only to become the biggest, heartiest lesbian’s catch. Her name was something like Selma and she would make me eat her butt while she wrote letters to her lawyer about her appeal.  Holy Lord, there was no dick worth that.

I turned the key in the ignition.

“How Long Will They Mourn Me?” TuPac queried from the tape deck as I started to gain a little perspective. Pac was a real gangster, the morons that I was aiding and abetting were little guppies who thought they were whales. They didn’t even sell crack for God sake’s.

 My foot had been on the brake as I began to put the car in drive, but I let it slide off and go idle in the floor. I’d made a commitment to be the getaway driver and dammit if I would be a puss and take off.  If it landed me face first in Selma’s booty, so be it. He gave me an out, I could’ve refused and even though there supposedly was no honor among thieves, I wasn’t a thief. I took pride in every job I’d ever done. Well, except for those 3 months at Wendy’s when I was 17 because screw that place, it sucked.  People would actually snatch the hat off my head when I handed them their food from the drive thru window. I used pray they would all get trapped in a box and die.

All of a sudden, I saw Pop-O’s round little body emerge from a snow drift with Danny and Lil C running close behind him.  They weren’t carrying anything, no coveted hooded starter jackets, no gun, just hauling ass, balls out, slipping and sliding on the salted, grey mush.

“Go girl!! GO!!!!” Danny screamed as he swung into the passenger seat.

Holy shit, they’d killed somebody. They’d killed people; I was going to jail for driving murdering gangsters and Selma was going to rape me with her toothbrush every night until I died in there. She would watch me poop and then rape…every night. Forever.

“What did you guys do!???”  Asking just seemed to be a formality at this point as I was positive of the answer. Just go ahead and say it, shit went wrong and you just shot three kids…just say it.

“Look”  Danny started the slow creepy talk “We got over there and…..them fools was gone yo! Hahahaha….we was just fuckin’ witchu…Damn you was scared…haha…fuck girl..look at you!  You is hilarious!”  

Pop-O joined Danny in his razzing, slapping the back of my seat, squealing while I caught site of Lil C smirking in the rearview. That was as close to laughing as he got, pretty sure about that.

“You shit bags!!! Not only am I NOT taking you to Mcdonald’s, I’m never taking you anywhere again!  I am not a wheelman! I’m just a chick bangin’ one of your friends! I don’t wanna be some dyke’s toothbrush holder o.k.? O.k.?! “

 My hysterics made it all the more humorous to them for awhile. Finally the laughing died and we rode in silence through the narrow streets off Michigan Ave. Danny tried to turn on the radio but I slapped his hand from the knob. He had a gun, yeah, so what? I was too angry to be afraid of him anymore, he seemed to respect that.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” He purred his apology in a sweet tone that bared zero resemblance to his usual nature.

It stirred nothing.

“Buy you a Big Mac? Girl? Steph?”

Calming down, I was grateful. Thankful they didn’t rob or kill anyone, including me. Glad I wasn’t in gen pop, emptying my bowels in a cell full of prostitutes.  Most twisted of all, appreciative that I would be allowed to degrade myself in any way Jose’ saw fit for at least one more night.

“Make it two.”

Prelude To a Blog...

As I've stated previously, I've never finished any project that I've EVER started.

The following is the beginning of a screen play that I abandoned that chronicles the time when I dated a gang banger for 6 months.

It's just the set up and it looks weird as I copied and pasted from my Final Draft software but I think you'll get the gist.

I'm thinking about "blogging" out the rest of the story and then maybe, possibly, I'll be able to finish it. At least in some context.

It probably sucks but here ya go......

DARK SCREEN AS OPENING CREDITS ROLL

We hear Beavis and Butthead initializing another relentless mental assault against the fragile Principal McVicker. His frustrated stutter grows worse and worse until it is finally drowned out by their notorious annoying laughs. Another noise, similar to an exotic jungle bird squawking begins to drown them out.

FADE IN:BEECHWOOD GROUP HOME - 1994

CUT TO:
THROUGH FLUTTERING OPENING EYES WE SEE THE SOURCE OF THE NOISE. A LARGE NAKED BLACK MAN IS STANDING OVER US.

NAKED MAN

AWWWWWKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!

He is biting his knuckle, slapping his thigh and coming in close to the camera with a “What’d you say bout my mama?” look in his eyes.

This is DARREN.

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

THE CAMERA PANS OUT and we see his victim lying on the couch in the glow of the t.v. It’s a cute girl in her early twenties wearing a t-shirt, ripped jeans, Doc Martens and piercings in her eyebrows. This is STEPH.

STEPH(scrambling to get up)

Dammit Darren! You scared the crap outta me! What are you doin outta bed?

He doesn’t reply as she grabs him under his muscular arm and leads him down an oversized hallway back to a place where we assume naked, squawking black men are more welcomed. DARREN doesn’t try to get away but does continue to bite his knuckle with a look of pure hatred on his face.

STEPH(calmer)

Now enough. It’s time for sleep.

(beat)

O.k.?

Steph gently pushes Darren into the room and turns to walk away. In a split second Darren re-emerges from the dark room in a rather startling fashion squawking and grabbing at Steph’s hair.

DARREN

AWWWWWWKKKKKKKKK!!!

Without an ounce of visible fear, Steph instantly grabs this bare-assed guy whose twice her size, opens the door with her hip and drags him inside.

INT. BEDROOM-CONTINUOUS

Steph quickly walks Darren over to his twin size bed and forcefully sits him down on it with a bounce. He still looks pretty pissed but appears to accept that he’s been bested.

STEPH(angrily)

Now! LIIIIIE DOWN!

Darren does as he’s told and Steph begins to cover him up.

She tucks him in tight and seems to silently apologize for yelling as she does so. It’s clear that she cares for him but has to be stern.

STEPH

Alright dude.....good night.

As she turns to leave we see from the light of the hallway that Darren has a room mate. He is also black, in his early thirties and appears to have wedged his penis between his box springs and mattress and is adamantly screwing them. This is STAN.

STAN(uabashedly)

Ughhhhhh!!!! Ughhhhhhh!!! Ughhhhhh!!!!

STEPH(crossing her arms)

Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me Stan?

STAN immediately pulls up his pajama pants and jumps back under the covers. He stares at Steph with a devilish smile on his bearded face. She shakes her head as we begin to hear a squeaking noise behind her and she turns to look.

DARREN IS MASTURBATING AND APPEARS TO BE FURIOUS

STEPH

(gagging)Barf. I mean really guys...I better not hear shit else from either of you tonight.

INT. HALLWAY- CONTINUOUS

As steph re-enters the wheel chair accessible hallway we hear the sweet sounds of Social Distortion began to play in the background.

TITLE CARD - SO WHAT

THE CAMERA FOLLOWS her through the house and we see that other than the large hallway with lit exit sign, we are in what appears to be a pretty normal middle class ranch-style home. Modest halloween decorations hang about and the place is furnished decently. Steph continues on through the kitchen towards the music coming from the family room. Another cute girl in her early twenties, dressed similarly but with short hair and sportin’ an Elmer Fudd hat jumps around wildly in front of the stereo.

This is MINA.

STEPH(playfully pissed)

Where the fuck were you? I woke up to choco-balls and dick floppin’ in my face again.

MINA

Ummmm, your welcome.

STEPH

Your a whore.

MINA(laughing)

Dude, Teddy’s here but he’s being a chicken shit and won’t come inside. I was just comin’ to get you.

STEPH

God he’s such a queer. Does he at least have our hits?

CUT TO:EXT. DRIVEWAY-NIGHT

PARKED IN THE DRIVEWAY ARE 3 DIFFERENT CRAPPY 80’S MODEL DOMESTIC CARS. STEPH, MINA AND TEDDY ARE ARGUING AND SMOKING CIGS IN THE CHILLY FALL MICHIGAN AIR.

TEDDY’s around the same age with a scruffy beard, wearing a flannel and well.... basically the grunge uniform of the time.

TEDDY(agitated towards Steph)

I don’t give a shit if you think it’s stupid. It fucked me up and I’ve been afraid of’em ever since man.

MINA

Sooo you saw a retarded guy at Mcdonald’s or something... like a long time ago... and now they freak you out?

TEDDY

(disgusted)Is that what you told her Steph?

(beat) No Mina, your friend is just an asshole. What happened to me was just a little bit more horrible than that.

STEPH(hiding her face)

Please.... fuck no, I can’t hear this again.

THE CAMERA CLOSES IN ON TEDDY’S DREAMING FACE AS HE BEGINS TO HAVE A FLASHBACK.

INT. MCDONALDS - DAY

Teddy appears to be in his teens and is sitting alone at a table chowing down on some killer Mickey D’s. He has braces and tons of acne.

An elderly WOMAN and rather large MAN sit down at the table beside of him. The woman appears to be the man’s mother as she sets up his food for him.

He is quiet and stares down at the floor with a bit of drool running out of his mouth which his mother quickly dabs away. Teddy nervously watches and eats.

MOTHER

O.k. sweetie, mommie’s going to the bathroom. You just eat your cheeseburger like a good boy alright sweetheart?

The man remains silent as his mother exits and the look of concern on Teddy’s face continues to grow.

SUDDENLY the man begins to slap his hamburger and french fries together in his hands and scream the same word over and over.

MAN

Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck!!!!!!!!

Teddy is frozen in fear with a fry hanging from his mouth when the man lurches across the table at him, grabs his Big Mac and slowly caresses Teddy’s face.He strokes Teddy’s hair sensually as he bites into the burger and inch from his face. Teddy can only muster a silent scream as the man then spits it out on the table and begins to laugh hysterically.

MOTHER

Tony, you get yourself over here right now mister.

Sir? (to Teddy)

Are you alright?

TEDDY FROZEN IN FEAR AS URINE RUNS OUT OF HIS PANT LEG.

TEDDY(back from flashback)

So do you get it now?

STEPH

Can you stop being such a fag?

TEDDY

That depends, can you make my ass stop wanting cock inside of it?

MINA(to Teddy)

Ughhhhh...noooo....why???Teddy appears to be pleased with his minor victory of grossing Mina out.

STEPH

O.k. then why the fuck did you agree to come up here and drop with us tonight? (beat)

Did you think we were going to just hang out in the front yard all night?

Hands in pockets Teddy looks down kicking rocks.

TEDDY(mumbling)

I didn’t have shit else to do.

MINA

Well that hasn’t changed soooo....look they are all in bed. You won’t even see’em... we swear.

STEPH(nodding)

Swear.

CUT TO:INT. FAMILY ROOM-NIGHT

Corrosion of Conformity plays in the background as Teddy, Mina and Steph sit around a coffee table passing a joint and intensely playing Candyland. The clock behind Steph reads 2:00 a.m.

STEPH

Oh my God dude, I am in the fuckin’ Candy Land right now and I AM trippin’ my tits off.

MINA(huge smile nodding)

Teddy this is some clean shit. Please tell me you got a whole sheet?

TEDDY(ignoring the question)

So Steph how’s it going living with Amee? Been raped by any random black guys yet?

Mina slaps him on the arm and gestures for him to shut-up.

STEPH

So she likes the night stick? Big deal.

STEPH (cont'd)

She leaves me alone and fucking anything beats moving back in with my parents.

MINA

Have you heard from Allen?

STEPH

No....I think he’s finally accepted it.

(beat)How bout we not talk about personal drama while were supposed to be escaping from reality? K?

TEDDY

Wait....what are you talkin’ about?

Teddy takes off his flannel and reveals his t-shirt for the first time. It’s a silk screen print of the posthumous Kurt Cobain Rolling Stone cover.

STEPH(pointing to Teddy’s shirt)

That’s what! Why the hell do you want us thinking about Kurt Cobain blowing his fucking head off tonight Teddy?

MINA

Yeah man, I cried for like 3 or 4 minutes when that issue came in the mail.

TEDDY

Are you serious? You guys are the retards. These mother fuckers(pointing around) need to be wiping your asses.

Steph is in a zombie like trance as she stares at the shirt.

STEPH

I think he just talked to me. (closing her eyes)He said Courtney did it.

TEDDY

You shut your mouth! She LOVED him!

MINA(diplomatic)

O.kkkkkkk., just turn it inside out or something for god’s sake.

Teddy reluctantly stands and starts to comply.

STEPH

Noooooo sir. You go in the bathroom. I couldn’t possibly handle seeing your gay, man-child torso right now.

Teddy looks nervously towards the hall.

STEPH

Dude it’s not like their not gonna drink your blood or something.

TEDDY

Whaaaat?!

Mina begins to laugh hysterically slapping the table.

TEDDY (O.S.)(walking out)

Yeah...yeah.

Teddy is barely gone from view when Steph and Mina begin conspiring.

STEPH(conniving)

O.k. I’ll get the stuff set up....you go get Jerry.

MINA

You realize this may be the laugh that kills us.

STEPH(patriotic)

That’s a risk I’m willing to take.

CUT TO: TEDDY FLUSHING THE TOILET.

He strides to the sink quickly and begins ferociously washing his hands as he is clearly trying to get the hell out of there a.s.a.p. He glances up at the mirror and his face transforms to reveal absolute revulsion.

A GIANT GREEN BOOGER WIPED ACROSS THE MIRROR.

TEDDY(manically)

Oh...I’m gonna ralph...

As he reaches for a paper towel we begin to hear the opening chords of “Blind” by Korn eminating from the hallway. As the music grows louder and louder (O.S.) teddy drys his hands at warp speed and begins to run for the door.

TEDDY(under his breath)

Those stupid bitches.

CUT TO:TEDDY’S POINT OF VIEW- SLOW MOTION

The door opening is in sequence to Johnathan Davis finally unleashing his vocals with “ARRRE YOUUUU READDDDY??!!!!”

Hopping towards Teddy like a giant, psychotic bunny rabbit(also in sequence to the vocals) is house resident JERRY.

Jerry is 6”4 and about 360 pounds. He is wearing a clown wig and Pajamas and his facial features change menacingly in the strobe light that has been positioned behind him in the dark hall way.

SERIES OF ALTERNATING QUICK SHOTS BETWEEN TEDDY’S FACE SHRIEKING AND JERRY’S CHILD LIKE FACE MORPHING INTO A FULL FLEDGED DEMON.

CUT TO:TEDDY RUNNNING DOWN THE HALL TOWARDS THE EXIT SIGN SCREAMING.

Teddy scrambles past naked Darren and Stan who have also made their way into the hallway and kicks the back door to freedom with all his might.

The door opens to reveal Steph standing there wearing an O.J. Simpson mask and brandishing a bloody knife. Teddy locks up in fear and looks like a petrified tree.

He slumps slowly to the floor. Steph removes the mask and starts laughing but stops abruptly when she realizes that Teddy is possibly catatonic.

STEPH(grabbing Teddy)

Shut the music off! Turn the lights on!

Steph pats Teddy on his face lightly as the music dies and the lights come up and reveals another resident who has been awakened. She’s petite, in her thirties and has her index finger pointed at her own face as though she’s telling herself off. This is ANGIE.

ANGIE

I hit people right! That’s right bitch!

Mina along with the rest of the residents now gather round Steph, Teddy and Angie.

ANGIE(still pointing to her face)

I said I hit people right! Bitch!

MINA

Noooo Angie... you didn’t do anything. This is our fault.

(CONT’D)
Dude if he dies.... this is going to be a really bad trip.

JERRY

Was wrong wit him? Is he sad?

Steph cradles Teddy in her arms and continues slapping his face as he continues to stare blankly at the ceiling.

DARREN

AWWWWWWWWKKKKKKKKK!!!!!

Mina attempts to corral Darren away from the situation at hand.

STEPH(desperate)

Snap out of it FAGGOT!!!

Teddy’s eyes flutter slowly as he cuts his gaze towards Steph.

TEDDY(whispering slowly)

Please get them away from me before my heart explodes you fucking cunt.

Steph looks over joyed as she triumphantly grasps Teddy’s cheeks in her hands and squeezes them like a Grandma.

STEPH(to everyone)

Who wants ice cream?

CUT TO:INT. STEPH’S CAR - DAY (MOVING)

Steph bangs her head tremendously and passionately sings along to loud rock music as she pulls into a parking space. she looks pretty haggard and yawns while she is thrashing. As she steps out of the car we see that she is in a development of nicely kempt, modest town homes. She sings to herself as she turns the key in the lock and pushes the door open.

STEPH

What the fuck?

As she enters the living room there is a very fat naked white woman having sex with a a very skinny BLACK MAN on the floor. The woman is Steph’s roommate AMEE.

AMEE

Duuuuuude!!!! Get out!! Come back later.

The man rolls over and looks back to view whose addressing them and appears to like what he sees.

BLACK MAN

Now c’mon girl, let’s talk about this. Ain’t no need for your pretty lil friend to be rushing off nah. Let’s take some time to get to knoooow each other.

He wipes his hand on Amee’s ass and then reaches it out to aid his introduction to Steph.

BLACK MAN

Hi, I’m Perry

Steph declines his gesture and shoots daggers at Amee who looks more than a little bit humiliated. Steph says nothing as she backs out closing the door.

CUT TO:INT. SMALL CRAPPY KITCHEN - DAY

Steph takes a peek in the fridge only to find nothing but a bowl of some kind of batter with a spoon sticking out of it.

She takes a seat at the distressed table and lights up a Kool out of a pack she finds laying on the table.

MAN’S VOICE (O.S.)

What the hell are you doin in there? Smokin’ my cigarettes?

Steph puts it out hastily in a giant 70’s style ashtray that is filled to the brim with butts. Right on cue the questioner enters the room. It’s a burly bearded man in his early 40’s. He’s wearing “once” whitey tighties, rubbin’ his belly and belching as he enters the room. This is HARRY Steph’s step-dad.

HARRY

I knew you was smokin’em. You little shit, what are you doin’ here? I thought you moved out with your nigger lovin’ girl friend.

Harry walks to the fridge, opens it and stares at the batter bowl. When his back turns to us we see a large brown streak on his underwear and he lets a wet fart. Steph looks physically disgusted.

STEPH

Yeah well... I just worked a double and I didn’t know that they were spraying for bugs at our place this morning and I just needed to crash here for a few hours.

Harry shuffles over and plops down at the table lighting a Kool just for him.

HARRY

Whatever. Will you go get me some White Castles?

STEPH

I just told you that I’m tired as shit and I really need to lay down...

He pitches her a cigarette.

HARRY

I’ll set you up with some if you go

.CUT TO:EXT. DRIVEWAY- DAY

Steph is getting out of the car carrying sacks of White Castle's when we hear screaming coming from the small lower middle class home she’s about to enter.

HARRY (O.S.)

Well if you ever were a real woman and had sex with your husband sometimes maybe there would be groceries in this house!

Steph looks even more haggard as she looks around quickly and notices one neighbor next door raking leaves and listening intently.

WOMAN’S VOICE (O.S.)

Well maybe if you ever washed your ass or spoke to me like a human being I would.

Steph enters the small poorly decorated living room to find Harry screaming at a petite blond woman in her pajamas also in her early 40’s smokin a cigarette with deep black circles under her eyes. This is Steph’s mom SHARON.

HARRY

I mean Goddamn Sharon, when are you gonna stop being crazy? This shit’s been going on for a fucking decade already.

Sharon snatches a bag of White Castles from Steph’s hand and starts beating Harry all over his body with it.

SHARON

You evil bastard! Your the reason I’m crazy! You did this to me!!!

STEPH

Mommmmm....not the food for christ sakes.

Harry and Sharon continue to scream and argue as Steph grabs a couple of burgers out of the sack and leaves the rest on the floor model television. She silently leaves the room and heads for the basement door.

INT. BASEMENT (CONTINUOUS)

Steph falls out on a nasty looking old couch and clicks on the t.v. She flips and flips searching for anything as she chows down on her White Castle’s. She stops on the 700 Club and listens to all the predicitions of the end of time and what not.As both of the cronies spew their nonsense, the camera closes in on Steph’s face. After a couple of seconds the face changes to that of a little girl (young Steph).

INT. SMALL 70’S STYLE CHURCH

We hear preaching coming from O.S. as the camera pans to reveal that the small church is filled with parishioners.

PREACHER(screaming)

And I know some of you in here tonight are saying to yourselves, he’s not talking to me. I’m a good person, I’m not going to hell.

PREACHER(cont’d)(softer)

Well children I’m here to tell that if you haven’t been washed in the blood of the lamb, that’s exactly where your going. God only takes those who have been saved and we are living in the last days....that’s right.

The preacher dabs the white bits of spit that have gathered in the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief and breathes heavily into the microphone.

PREACHER

Can I get our singers to come up?

A small group of women of all different sizes and ages make their way to the tiny stage behind the pulpit carrying hymnals. One sits down at an ancient plain piano and begins lightly playing.

PREACHER

Jesus is giving you another chance tonight and if you want what he has to offer..come on up here.

GROUP OF SINGERS

Soft-ly and ten-der-ly Jesus is calling. Calling for you and for me....

Young Steph stares blankly at the persuasive spectacle before her.

PREACHER

We all know were coming to the end. He’s coming back soon and you can either have your name in the Book of Life,be saved and go home to paradise or....or... children you can stay here...stay here and take the mark of the beast.

PREACHER(cont’d)

Stay here and have your skin ripped from it’s bones by flying snakes with gnashing, razor like teeth...

CUT TO:INT.BASEMENT-DAY

Steph sits straight up awake and appears to be extremely startled.

STEPH

Fuck that.

CUT TO:INT.-STEPH’S CAR-MOVING-NIGHT

Steph and Mina are smoking cigarettes and bobbing their heads in unison to the music pumping out of the crappy factory stereo. As they drive we can begin to see that they are in a very dilapidated neighborhood. Stereotypical, dirty Detroit. Steph cuts the music down suddenly.

STEPH

O.k. man, where the hell is this place? Were like so deep into crack town right now it’s insane.

Mina begins to rummage through her purse.

MINA

Wait you got off at Livernois right?

STEPH

Yes, just like you said and I haven’t seen any place that would resemble a club we’d go to.

Mina’s digging finally pays off as she finally finds the flyer she’s looking for.

MINA

O.k., o.k. It says right here Livernois exit. We must’ve passed it. Just make a U-ey and go back.

STEPH

Oh for fuck’s sake.

Steph makes the U-turn and they come to a stop at a red light. They seem to be the only car on the road until ominous bass booming (O.S.) begins to draw closer. Both girls look as though they are bracing for the worst. Beside of them in an old beat up muscle car pulls up two good looking guys also in their early twenties. The passenger appears to be white but the driver is obviously Hispanic. They both look over at the same time and smile slyly.

STEPH(whispering for no reason)

Duuuuude...they are like some hot ass criminals or sumthin...and they want me to roll the window down.

The passenger rolls his window down with a confidant look that says he is fully intent on making some conversation during their tenure at the red light.

MINA(frustrated)

Steph, I know your fucking mentally disabled but c’mon. We - are- in- the- fuck-ing- ghet-toooooo. Are you serious?

Steph rolls down the window anyway.

PASSENGER

Soooo, on our way to a Pearl Jam concert are we?

Both guys look at each other and simultaneously break up into laughter.

STEPH(to mina)

You like this? They’re like so totally breaking our balls.

MINA

Wow, I’ve never been taunted by gang bangers before. What should we do?

STEPH

I dunno...

Steph shifts in her seat uncomfortably deciding what to do.

STEPH(yelling to guys)

Yeah but I’m sure a couple of stereotypical gangster types like yourself would have no idea where anything like that would be?

Both mens smiles fade.

MINA(poking steph)

Shut up asshole!

STEPH(cont’d)

Bet if we were looking for a Scarface concert you’d know all bout it bout it.

After about 5 seconds of uncomfortable silence both men erupt into volcanic bellows of laughter.

PASSENGER

Alright girl, alright. Seriously you guys are lost though right?

STEPH

Were trying to get to a club called Mass Hysteria.

PASSENGER

OH, no shit? I know exactly where that is. You can follow us if you want.

CUT TO:STEPH AND MINA FOLLOWING TAIL LIGHTS.

The car has left the main road and they are now traveling through a residential neighborhood that looks like it has been partially napalmed. Tall Detroit row houses hold each other up against the narrow car filled streets.

MINA

Ultimate bad idea, fucking horrible. Where the hell are they taking us?

Steph’s eyes dart around cautiously as she trys to keep her composure together.

STEPH(falsely reassuring)

Dude, will you chill already? We are in a moving vehicle that can be used as a “get away car” if necessary. Ever heard of one of those?

No sooner do the words leave Steph’s lips do we see that the street has dead ended at a house and Hector and Chris quickly park their car and swiftly jump out.

MINA(panicked)

Fuck man, fuck!! Were gettin raped. Like probably with Colt 45 bottles and shit.

STEPH

Lock your door..I’m turnin’ around.

MINA

My fuckin’ door’s been locked since we got off the freeway. Yours hasn’t!!!???

Steph puts the car in reverse as both guys step out in front of her in such a way that she would have to hit them in order to go forward.

STEPH(finally shaken)

Ohhhh shit.

Chris walks over to Steph’s window and raps lightly on the glass smiling the whole time.