Ok, i wanted to contribute by posting a blog but not sure where to start so i said screw it and decided to share several (a bunch?) of conversations held by the inhabitants of the 100 Bullets crime noir universe.
Ill try to keep this in accordance with the TAN regulations...
*Two guys at a bar*
You know what Really turns me on about a woman?No, What?That part right 'tween her tits. Wha'sat called again?On YER wife?...
CRACK! (man gets punched)
*same two guys later that week*
I wanna get LAID... Whatta you say we go get us some Whores?
You kiddin'? I get more pussy than i need at home!
Okay then let's go to YER place.
*Chucky talking to Shantay about what it means to owe money to a friend*
I'm super fucked...
Wait sugar, i thought you tol' me Pony was your frien'...
S'right, we came up together.
Well that's good, right? sounds like we caught a break.
Wrong. Baby, Id rather be in over my head to the creepiest shylock in town than owe a friend money.
S'why i never did no business wit' Pony--'Specially after he made it big.
That don' make no sense.
Bull. It makes all the sense in the world.
Look--owin' money to a bookie? Same shitty thing as owin to a bank.
Bank gives you a loan, they're taking a risk you pay it back, plus interest
Purely a situational relationship.
Now, what you got with a friend, that's a long-term relationship, am i right?
Right, so say you owe money to a friend and you cant pay him back--what happens? Chances are, he does somethin' a bank would never do in a frickin million years--he lets you slide. Low an' behold, that risk turned into his personal liability.
An' guess what? you're diminished in his eyes--even if he don't say so.
He cant trust you, and that should never happen.
So what now?
...I'm super fucked.
*Our man Chucky from earlier gets caught in a game of dice with some hoods and receives a beatdown when Agent Graves walks up...*
Wha? WHO the fuck're YOU?
Listen muthafucka, you better git your geriatric ass out--
Ive got Business with him, and if i let you kick him to death, then Ive got No Business.
*pulling his shades down, beady eyes piercing thru*
And let me assure you...
i do MEAN BUSINESS.
There's three a' us, old man...
*hood bends down to pick up the money*
No, no *shaking his finger at them* Leave the money.
*after a small conversation/introduction*
Well "Agent Graves" that took some Major Balls.
Not really. Its all in the eyes. Some men have a pussy in 'em.
*A mother lectures her young kid while on the beach in beautiful Florida, Lono stands near a palm tree looking out...*
Are you listening to me little man? If you don't behave I'm gonna beat your bottom Black and Blue!
Sounds like fun mommy..
..But i already got me a date for today*Lono flashes very a accomplished, perverted grin*
*Agent Graves presenting a briefcase to a milf who works in a diner, she has just found out her run-away 16 year old daughter has died, and inside that briefcase information on who is to blame for her life going in that direction*
In this attache, you will find irrefutable evidence that what I'm telling you is true, a gun, and one hundred rounds of untraceable ammunition.
Whatever you choose to do, you'll be above the law. No law enforcement agency can touch you...
You'll get away with it. You have my word.
*Philadelphia: We see Loop sitting on his Suzuki sidekick/Geo trackker like ride staring at a picture of his dad, Phife walks up to him*
Who dat 'ol nigga?
Thats my pops, G.
No shit. Lemme see...
Yeah, son. You look jus' like 'im.
How 'bout it? An i got some mad hate for this muthafucka, knowumsayin?
Listen up, Loop, I'm bein' straight wit'choo n'shit...
That muthafucka--He left you an' your mama when you was jus' a shorty, true?
Word. I got no recollection of the man.
Uh-huh. Yet you be sittin' here, trippin on that pitcha.
Thas' fucked up, bro. The Nigga never had no time fo' you,,,
...So don' waste your time on his deadbeat black ass aight?
*Loop ponders over the picture some more*
Getcha' mind right, Loop...
..Getcha' mind right.
*Loop meets his father Curtis Hughes, an old school gangster/criminal, some shit goes down then a month or so later Loop does the rounds with his pops when his dad hands him a fat envelope*
What is it?
What yo9u think it is? Money. Five hundred dollars.
Share a what?
Look, you been comin' with me on my rounds, right?
Well my "back" gets paid.
I said for you to COUNT it.
Wha' for? You aint gonna rip me off.
How the fuck you know that?
Listen up, when a man gives you money he owes you, you count it, unnerstan'?--In front of 'im.
It aint all there, you hand it right back.
Then you bus' he muthafucka fo' cheatin you...
Yeah. then he bus' you, then you bus', he bus', you bus'--bus', bus', bus' BANG! Someone ends up in jail.
No. What'choo do is give the man a chance to make good.
See, makes no difference whether he is tryin to chat you, or he jus' made a honest mistake. None of that's shit.
What matters is you gettin whats comin to you.
You give him an out, so he can give it to you and save face.
No one gets hurt, no hard feelings, you get paid.
Its twenty short *handing it back to his pops*
Bullshit *curls his lip in defiance*
*Loop and his daddy Curtis are boosting a nice car for an insurance scam*
Here's my keys. Follow me.
Yo, how bout you lemme drive this sweet ride?
*Curtis lifts his fedora hat, a deadly serious look coming from him*
Look at this car, then look at you, young blood. Now say you're a cop.
*Loop looks at his reflection in the puddle below, sees your average lookin gangster/hood out to no good*
See why profilin's so easy?
*Lono, "the dog" getting into a cab at the airport, Philadelphia*
Look, I'm no mind reader. What do you wanna do?
I wanna get laid.
I wanna Fuck somebody *flashing that sick perverted accomplished smile of his*
*Victor Ray and two business associates wait at some trash dive bar for two more associates, they have just pulled a heist, while at the bar a few conspiracy like stories are brought up allowing Victor to relay this following story...*
Well what if was to tell you this country's fate was decided two hundred years before any pilgrims great grandchild dumped a mess a tea in some toilet of a harbor?
And long before your great, great, great grandaddy stepped on the auction block
Id say you was full a shit.
The contents of my guts not-withstanding, the real story behind this country is worse than a mile of dirt road...
and runs deeper than any black sea. Back in the day, an i mean way back, the world was up for grabs. And it was bloated kings doin most of the grabbin'. See, there's this disease that afflicts all men--kings in particular--that there is only one cure for. And the cure is Gold. Once word got around that the Spaniards had found the cure here, every monarch wanted a piece. But there was a group of people--thirteen to be exact--that didn't want just a piece...
They wanted it all.
Now, its true that gold can make kings, but these folks, they weren't interested in becoming royalty. Their sights were set a mite higher.
What the fuck are you sayin'? *says one business associate as he sits in disbelief*
I'm sayin' that the founders of this country weren't no different than you...
They were thieves...
*interlude of shit between them that doesn't concern this story*
Say Victor, you mind tellin' me what kinda folks wouldn' want to be kings?
The kind that understand Kingdoms come and go, and the only way to last forever...
is to not ever exist. See, a King may rule, but real power is in the hands a those who can make...or Break 'em.
That's been the way it is...forever. And while these folks had been around just about as long..The idea of creating a binding trust was new. Before that, they were like Kings--always lookin for a piece of what another might have. But when they all realised that robbin' from each other was a waste of time...an what joining together could mean? they came up with a plan, one that would take their thorny selves out of the Kings' side... And stuck it in a land where a King would have no purchase.. Where thirteen of 'em would have the freedom and the liberty to shape a nation in their own image.
So they presented this fair deal to the kings: You leave what's left of the new world to us, and we will leave your shores forever.
So what the kings say?
*another interlude surrounding our anti-heroes situation in which the last member of this business is arriving outside, wounded*
The Kings didn't say boo.. they said No. Maybe 'cause they were scared of thieves. Or maybe they thought the offer was just that--an offer. There was a Queen, even went so far as to put her foot down.. On Roanoke Island, where England established its first colony, with the intent on claimin' a big piece of the all for herself. Now England had been there a couple of times before, but nothin' stuck. Sendin' women and children with the meant sure it would. this didn't set with the thirteen families. They'd made a generous offer, they thought, and to have it rebuffed pissed 'em off, 'cause--well, they were tryin to do business.
So they sent seven men to send a message that they meant it. These seven were plucked out of the hands that could make an' even break rules, an' were given only one to follow..
"Don't ever let anybody, including us, fuck with us."
They were the minutemen--the law...set upon Roanoke to enforce it.
*interlude, the last man has "fell down to his death" in hopes of shaking his pursuers, shit goes crazy, victor goes outside, guns in both hands blazing as he continues...*
Seven men.. Stone cold killers in the dead of night..walked through the colony..and made certain..that no one there...not a man..a woman...nor even a child... Would walk out.
*the scene around Victor is of destruction and dead bodies, a car on fire behind him having flipped after the driver got his dome shot off and hit something...*
When the seven were done with their job, they left seven letters, in a language that no one but the kings would understand..
"This belongs to us."
Thirteen families. Seven men. One Hundred and nineteen dead. This Belongs to Us.
...What the Fuck?
The point is...
the Fuck is what this country's always been about...
*Victor walks back into the bar, finishes his drink...*
*Some bar off the main drag, New Orleans, some woodland redneck walks in asking the bartender for the owner, Harry*
Way too much, fer my likin'
Go get 'im.
Whats the magic word?
NOW *lookin all clogged up and pissed*
*bartender comes back*
Hey! What you say your name was?
That's what i told Harry, an he said he don't know no "i didnt's"
Listen Smart Ass--I'm gonna slap the fuckin teeth outta your head, okay? Then you go and smile at harry, an he'll know--
*at this time Harry comes in shouting for the redneck to calm down...*
*Loop and Lono are cruising the streets of Chicago..*
Damn, yo.. What the fuck is up in this town?
Chicago? It caught fire over a hundred years ago... an no ones bothered to put it out.
Heh, Thats good...
So when you decide to get all poetic n'shit?
Wha? Fuck you.
Nah, nah, nah. Normally i ask you a question, yo; answer comes from below the belt knowumsayin'?
"what tha fuck is up in this town?" "My dick." or "The price of pussy."
Pussy's cheap here, and comes with a free chip on its shoulder.
Yeah. That's the answer i was expectin'.
It's a fuckin' Liars Paradise. Full a tough guys with charred skin...but all pink on the inside.
*Here we have Spain, an unassumingly powerful white guy in new yorks drug trade, and a bellhop named Tino from the hotel at which Spain is staying, after getting kicked out of a club and having an altercation with a bouncer...*
Think i got a case? I mean, that shitbird came after me when i was off the property...
I think you broke his jaw, Spain.
I KNOW i broke his fuckin' jaw, Tino. Pissed on it too. But can i SUE his ass?...*upon arriving at his hotel they notice cops like a mawfucca yo...and even worse they see Spains lawyer Terry being carried out on a stretcher, foaming at the mouth. Tino is then sent to investigate and report back at another bar...*He went loco, Spain...Was rampagin' the halls all naked. It took hotel security plus six cops to bring him down.Terry?--Was higher then a kite -- Totally Dusted. PCP? Terry wouldn't touch that shhhh--*Spain grabs out a knife, starts to grab Tino by the throat*--iiit-- You Sonofabitch!!That fuckin twist you gave 'im was wet?I didn't know!Then tell me what you do know fuckie!The cholo you blindsided--He gave it to me!He sell you that righteous bush too?Yeah!Five-Oh-- They go in my room and find it?Yeah!Anything else *holding that knife to tinos cheek, under his eye*...Terry ate your dog..*Spain starts to spaz out, grabs chest as if having a heart attack*He--Wha-- Cookie..?*minutes later, loaded up with a nice mac10 *Take me to that motherfucker fed you the shit what made my dawg eat my best friend.
*Lono sits staring at a man all bloodied and hanging upside down, he gets up, walks towards the man and steps on some squishy object, also bloodied out.. POP..Then he exhales some smoke...*So you Did have balls, Fulvio...Hope you enjoyed some of these conversations
as i did writing them out for ya. Ive found some to be good words of wisdom, others worth a hearty chuckle and i hope i didn't lose anything in translation so that you too can enjoy em as i did. Oh and keeping in accordance with TAN guidelines...T
is for A
Maybe ill do some more. this was kinda fun.