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| Drug Dealers; A mystery I plan to update... | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 12 2008, 12:48 PM (239 Views) | |
| Yankee Blaze | May 12 2008, 12:48 PM Post #1 |
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Flaming Chicken
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Part 1: The Night Before the Meeting Prologue The annoying sound of the phone kept ringing very loudly at the table around 11:00 pm. A voice of some man who can be no more than the age of forty came down the stairs very quickly and ran across to the white phone on the table. He picked up the phone and held it close to his ear as a man on the other line spoke, who sounded very raspy. “Have you got the merchandise?” the voice on the line asked with impatience. The man on the phone swallowed hard in his throat. He never felt this way before in his life. His tongue was dry and his palms were beginning to sweat as he began to talk on the phone. He coughed a little bit and then began to say something. “Yes, I do,” said the man on the phone. “Good,” said the voice on the line, “Bring it to me tomorrow. I want to see it!” He hung up the phone and sat down on the red chair, which was next to the phone. His tan hands reached the black remote and aimed at the television set in front of him. As he pressed the power button, the brown eyes looked in front of the whole entire television as he watched the news. What he saw in shock was that there was a man arrested for selling drugs for money. What would happen to him? He could lose his ‘job’ for all he knew. Why was he doing this? To help a bunch of low lives or just something he wanted to do for his own free time? It was something to think about. He gently brushed his hand over the tips of his brown hair and put his hand on the bathrobe he was in, which was in a wonderful burgundy color. He was officially relaxed and took out a piece of paper and began to write what he needed to do tomorrow, besides delivering the money of the drugs that he needed. He has been working with this man who sold drugs to him and in return, this man was receiving a lot of money. It was so much money, that the green paper this guy was getting was more than what an average worker would get per year. The man he worked with must have had connections to something or someone. Without hesitation, he turned his head to the right, where he picked up a white envelope. He opened it up and began to read what was inside. It was a letter that said: Dear Marty: How are things going with you today? I hope things are going fine as you say they were. I can’t wait to hear all about the business you’re doing at your office and how you and your girlfriend are having so much fun. I’m sorry, I must be being a nag, but you never called to return my calls so I might as well send you a letter to make you feel happy. I want to know what’s going on. You haven’t called me last month. That was the same month you were arrested for drug dealing with your friends when you were 18. I hope to God that’s not the reason why you haven’t been writing to me. Please call me ASAP. See ya! Love, Your Mother This made Marty go into a different path. He threw the letter into the fireplace. He didn’t want to call back, and he didn’t want to say hi. He wanted to do what he wanted to do, which was to go get a job, give money to get drugs, get high on them, kill his girlfriend and go to hell like the rest of the world. But, this time what he may have thought may have decided to come back and bite him back in the ass for good. Is that even possible for him? The main reason why he wanted to kill his sleazy girlfriend was for this reason. The girlfriend he had was never home. He was being cheated on the same guy for the last seven months, and it was only because of the fact that Marty was in the drug business and instead of getting a job like everybody else, he had to go and make money fast to the nearest drug dealer. However, due to the fact that he lost his job because of his rep sheet that the manager found at his previous job, Marty has to pay the man that has the drugs five hundred thousand dollars in cold cash. But, he had only this chance, so he went to count up the money. He grabbed a brown briefcase behind the chair and he brought it with him to sit down and began to count the money. He stopped and shook his head, and looked at the wall. He was once again short and this time… there were no such things as a second chance. |
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8:47 AM Jul 11