352 lines
20 KiB
Plaintext
352 lines
20 KiB
Plaintext
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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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1994
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Just above the mountains to the east, the sun had
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almost gone down enough to see clearly. Driving home this way
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was always hell at this time of the day. He adjusted his
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sunglasses a little, and tried to pull the sunshade down
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enough to block the rest of the sun so he could see ahead of
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him. The driver cursed silently after realizing he couldn't
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quite block it. No big thing for him, he was used to driving
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home facing the glaring ball of light.
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Traffic was bad like usual. The road he was on was
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soon to be 6 lanes providing effecient passage between areas
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of town. Right now, it was only two lanes wide. Cars backed up
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almost a mile behind him, and he imagined there were another
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mile of cars in front of him. That was the routine though,
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looking around, he recognized a few vehicles since he saw them
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each night when he went home. Life seemed to be at a perfect
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standstill right now since the cars had stopped moving five
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minutes ago. Probably another small wreck causing hundreds of
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people to sit in the 90 degree weather.
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On days like this, Nick liked to drop by the local
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video rental place and grab a movie to watch that night. Not
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much else to do since all he did was work, sleep, and drive to
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and from. It was a good thirty, maybe forty minutes before he
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reached the rental place. Pulling into a parking place, he
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inched up and parked a few inches from a BMW in front of him.
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Nick quickly rolled up the window, jumped out, and locked the
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door. It always felt good to stretch his legs after a long
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ride from work.
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Nick was pretty tall. About 6'4" or so, and weighed
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around 190 pounds. Although he wasn't muscular really, he was
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quite strong, and could use his leverage quite well. He had
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studied a few forms of fighting in his past, but he relied on
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common sense these days in a fight. His quiet demeanor, and
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his constant vigilance on things around him made him good when
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he did fight. 'Reserved' is how he was described on most occasions,
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but that usually meant 'He knows what is going on'. Nick
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didn't miss much.
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The place was busy. Quite busy in fact. Must be a
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Friday night he thought. No other night would be this busy.
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Days meant little to Nick since he worked day after day, the
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same shift. Once a month he took a day off to catch up on
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stuff around his pad and run errands. Walking in, he passed
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the CDs and tapes, and went into the rental section. A small
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sigh and he headed toward the new releases even though it
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looked as if most of the movies had been rented. Such was life
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when you worked til 6:30 each night.
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A small grin crossed his face and he reached toward
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a new action flick that had the potential of being pretty good.
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Leaning over to get it, he bumped the man next to him. He
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mentally damned himself for not watching out, knowing what
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this would lead to. Nick muttered a quick apology and turned
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to look at who he had bumped. Great, just who he wanted to
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have problems with tonight, a Dane. The Dane's were one of the
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hundred local 'gangs' that claimed control of this area,
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although none of the gangs had more than 15 members.
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The Dane turned a little more and shoved Nick
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backwards mouthing off to him. Nick nodded once and apologized
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again. It usually ended up in a fight, but Nick always gave a
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chance at avoiding it when he could. An employee came over and
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pointed outside, so the Dane pushed Nick toward the door. As
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they walked out, Nick studied the boy in front of him. He
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couldn't have been more than 17 years old, and he carried one
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knife in his back pocket, and another in boot. Nick didn't see
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any other weapons so he went on outside.
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If the boy had been carrying a gun, that would have been
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a different story. Of course, he couldn't have been or the
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detectors at the store entrance would have picked it up when he
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entered. Over 98% of the stores in the country were now equipped
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with the devices. Any gun or large knife would be detected and
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store personell would be alerted. This usually meant that the
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person was escorted out or asked to leave his weapons in his
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car. Law was passed 5 months ago, allowing any fight between
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consenting adults, and that was it. Police had no right to
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interfere with a struggle between two willing people. So that
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was the way it was these days, if you had a gripe with someone,
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you shut the hell up, or fight if you thought it was warranted.
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It was common place to fight and was accepted in all walks of life
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now, from the homeless, to the yuppies in the rich areas.
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The Dane left the front door and walked out into the
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parking lot, and turned to face his opponent. Nick walked out,
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removed his jacket and nodded once before he took a defensive
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stance. Seconds later the boy pulled his first knife out of
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his back pocket. Before it had come in front of the boy, Nick
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had determined that it was a butterfly knife, and that the kid
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didn't know shit about knife fighting. That would make this
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all the quicker though. With a quick kick in front of him,
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Nick hit the boys wrist and both watched as the knife flew 20
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feet behind him and skidded under a car.
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Mumbling to himself, the Dane quickly pulled his boot
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knife and promised Nick a quick but painful death. Almost
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bored with the whole incident, Nick decided to let the boy
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make the first move this time. It was only seconds before the
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knife came diving in at Nick's heart, almost deathly slow. A
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fast block with his left arm sent the boy's arm out wide, and
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another quick movement with his right cause the Dane to reel
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back, blood gushing from his nose. Another clumsy attack came,
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and a stinging blow to the left eye resulted. A third swipe
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came in chest level, and resulted in a flurry of movement from
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Nick. Not even Nick knew how many hits landed, but 6.3 seconds
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later, the Dane was sprawled out on the asphalt bleeding from
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several places on his face and sporting two broken arms.
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Picking up his jacket and the boot knife, he nodded
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once more to the fallen Dane, and went back inside to get the
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movie he had reached for. Lets see, that made two fights for
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the day, and nine for the week. Each fight picked by the other
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person, each fight ended by Nick. In the trunk of his car was
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a book box full of miscellaneous weapons he had picked up from
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his fights. He was lucky he hadn't run into any guns in just
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over two weeks. It was considered cowardly, even from a gang's
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standpoint, to use a gun to kill a rival. No challenge, no honor,
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no previous experience required when pulling a trigger.
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It was just after 7:00 when Nick arrived at his pad.
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His 'pad' consisted of a two room apartment with a closet and
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a bathroom. Despite the small space he lived in, it was
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furnished quite nicely. He had never wanted more room, just
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more things in his room to make life a little better.
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He grabbed a root beer from the fridge, and a chocolate
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bar, and sat down on the cough to watch the show. He kicked his
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shoes off, and propped them up on a stack of magazines and hit
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play. Nick watched the movie in silence, and at the end though
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about the movie a little.
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Standing up, Nick hit the rewind on the remote and
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picked up his empty bottle and wrapper from a Little Debbie
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snack. He deposited them in the trash and headed into his
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bedroom to change out of his work clothes. It was almost 10:00
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but the night was barely starting in his eyes. He was quite
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active during the late night, and had adjusted his sleeping
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schedule to accomodate that.
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After the past few nights, and little sleep, he decided
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that he would finish a couple of things, and then crash early.
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After all, he had to work in the morning. After a quick trip to
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the car, he came back in his place with the box of weapons he
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had accumulated. He set the box down next to the 'puter and turned
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it on. Loading a program, he started typing in the weapons he had
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collected and sorted them. An hour passed quickly and he wrapped
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things up. Tommorow he would go to a pawn shop and stand to earn
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a little over three thousand for the various weapons. From the
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serial numbers, he laughed to himself as the computer made him
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aware that he had picked up one of the guns for the 8th time
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this year. Such was gang warfare.
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The wrist watch on the table beeped three times and Nick
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snapped awake. Glancing over at the clock nearby he layed back
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down and caught his breath. Two hours to get ready and get to
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work, no problem. Shit, shower, shave, and dress. He walked out
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into the general room and powered up the 'puter. No new mail
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this morning, not that he had expected any, but he always
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checked in case a bill came in or something.
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50 minutes this time, he swore that he had been
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driving the speed limit, but if that were true, he would have
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been here 20 minutes from now. Oh well. No enforcers had
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pulled him over so it wasn't a big deal. Nick climbed out and
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locked his door and headed into the store he worked at. Half
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an hour of bullshit paperwork, half an hour of cleaning up and
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he pulled the front gate open to allow customers in, not that
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there were any waiting or anything. Slowly, other stores
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around his pulled their gates opened, and the mall began to
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come to life.
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Lesse, bad rentals last night meant Friday night,
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meaning this was Saturday probably. If so, that was fine by
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him. That just meant the day would go by quickly since all the
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gang-bangers would be out of school and hanging out in the
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mall. This wasn't the most popular clothing store for most
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people, but it catered to teenagers mostly. That was where the
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money was. Nick also knew the area so he made sure never to
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order red merchandise. That alone would start a fight in the
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store sometimes. This was a 'Crip' mall, and all smart
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managers kept red out of their store.
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Of course, this early in the morning only the elderly
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mall walkers were out, and a few serious shoppers, but no one
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worth paying attention to. It was always well past noon before
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the real customers began shopping. Nick began to change a
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nearby display, taking off the popular striped shirt that had
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sold so well, and replaced it with a new blue striped, hooded
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sweatshirt. Size 40 Guess pants below it, and the display was
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done. Those two pieces of clothing in the window guaranteed him
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a little over 800 dollars in sales alone.
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Time passed quickly while doing little things here and
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there. An occasional sale here, a friend or two there and it
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was noon. Jo-el came in just before noon to help out with the
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noon rush that was sure to come. More and more people began
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coming through the door to look for new clothes. Each 'Crip'
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that entered the store left with a bag and the outfit that had
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been displayed in the window. It was always easy selling to
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the gang-bangers. They weren't that bright, and very open to
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suggestion.
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The afternoon passed quickly and it was almost time
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for Nick to take a break when two guys walked through the
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door. The Detectors indicated neither were carrying guns, but
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that wasn't what bothered Nick. As one turned to the other,
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Nick caught a glimps of a red shirt under the jacket of one of
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the guys. Cursing to himself, he signaled to Jo-el to let him
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handle these guys. Maybe they wouldn't say anything today,
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maybe they would just look around and then leave....who the
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fuck was he kidding?
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Before he could greet them, one turned to the display,
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made a quick gesture with his hand indicating the gang he hung
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with, and pushed the display over. Not a good idea. Before the
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display hit the ground, 3 'Crips' had moved in behind Nick and
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2 more stopped at the entrance to the store, both waiting
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there in case they were needed. Nick held up his hand
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motioning for everyone to stop. Gang signs flashed once more
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and everyone knew where everyone else stood...almost. Both
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groups looked to Nick wondering if he would choose sides.
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Nick warned all of them to back up and stay cool and
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then motioned with his left hand while countering it with his
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right. A simple gesture but it told everyone nearby that he
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didn't give a shit either way, and that he didn't hang with
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either gang. He played it safe in times like this, making sure you
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weren't aligned helped keep your store in one piece. The
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'Blood' in front of him began bitching about the display and
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warned Nick that if he should align with the 'Crips', he
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wouldn't see next week.
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What a bland threat. 'Bloods' had no imagination. Either
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way, Nick made sure that word got around he didn't align with
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any group. He just worked there.
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The rest of the day passed without incident, and sales
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had been really good. Like usual, after a really good day he
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offered to buy drinks for his workers after they were done
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cleaning the place. This put everyone in a good mood so the
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work went all the faster.
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The group of four climbed in Nick's car, and they took
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off toward Club Crash for beer and maybe dancing. Jo-el
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climbed in the front seat, with Corey and Amber in the back.
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It was no secret that Corey like Amber so everyone else always
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gave him the chance to be with her. Of course, that never
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really helped since Corey wasn't that outgoing.
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Music boomed out into the parking lot as they pulled
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up, each pulling out IDs and some money to get in the place.
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This was the spot to be at on Saturday nights, and the music
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was always good. The group of four waited in the line and
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slowly approached the building. Val, the doorguard nodded to
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Nick and motioned to put away his ID. A few greetings and
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small talk and the four were through the door without losing a
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dime. Nick had the right friends it seemed.
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Nick smiled as he walked in, and that was rare. His
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workers smiled in return knowing that Nick was enjoying
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himself if he smiled like that. A couple of beers later, and
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they were all dancing. Jo-el and Nick danced together,
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silently celebrating being number one in the district for the
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first time. Since both managed the store, a nice bonus would
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be included on their next paycheck for the sales they had had
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earlier today. As soon as the two had hit the dance floor, Amber
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grabbed Corey's hand and pulled him up to dance. Corey smiled.
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Things were going great tonight, and everyone was
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having a good time. Doubt lingered in the back of Nick's mind
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though, as he knew that something would happen before the
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night was over. It always did, and tonight was no exception.
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_Obumbratta_ finished up, and the Dj began to mix in
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the next song when it happened. Nick felt two hands pull him
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back and watched as someone stepped in front of him to dance
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with Jo-el. Regardless of what happened, it always happened to
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Nick. Disregarding any polite conversation or formalities, a
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kidney punch and a kick to the heel brought the guy down. A
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gesture to a bouncer, and the guy was out of the club before
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he realized what happened. With a breath of relief, Jo-el
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continued dancing, glad that the whole thing was over. Nick
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knew better. So did Corey.
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Both of them had been coming here on Saturday nights
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for three months now. Both knew the people, and both knew what
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to expect. Corey just kept out of it when at all possible.
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Nick looked around for the friends of the guy that just got
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thrown out. He knew they were around. No doubt one of them had
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sent the guy to do exactly what he did to gauge Nick's
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response. Minutes passed and Nick calmed down and began to
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dance again.
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_TimeBomb_ began and all of them danced faster. Nick
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liked this song in paticular and he had often borrowed the CD
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with this song from Corey. One little incident wasn't enough
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to take the smile away from his face so he danced until he was
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tired. One by one they walked off the dance floor to the
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table, and ordered a new drink. It was always a good sensation
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dancing like that only to come back to a cool beer afterwards.
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Leaving the club laughing and talking about the good
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time, Nick glanced over and noticed the worried expression on
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Corey's face. Nick didn't have to look over to know what was
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up, but he did anyway. Five guys sat on or around Nick's car,
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all waiting for him. It wasn't until 30 feet away that Nick
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saw the guy that had been thrown out. Lewd comments and
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obscene gestures accompanied threats toward the small group.
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Nick removed his jacket and handed it to Jo-el. He
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warned her to stand back and that it would only take a few
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minutes. Moving away from the car the group circled Nick and
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made sure to cut him off from any help from Corey. That was
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fine by all of them. The first guy moved in on Nick and threw
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a few wild punches, all of which missed horribly. Two
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resounding cracks later, blood covered the guys face and
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Nick's fists. Nick pivoted to the next one and gestured that
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it was his turn.
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Both fighters took a defensive stance, and
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immediately, Nick knew that this boy had been schooled in
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Karate. Both prepared themselves mentally and began a volley
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of punches and kicks at each other. Few landed, and what did
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land was just small hits or grazes, none of which mattered to
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either. For two minutes the fighting continued, and as Nick
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began to re-approach, a figure behind him moved slightly and
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produced a knife from his pocket.
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One step toward Nick, and he fell face down, hitting
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the ground with an audible thump. Corey stepped back and
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prepared another hit if needed. One hit to the base of the
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neck, and weapons were kept out of the fight. Jo-el sighed and
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leaned back against the car waiting for the whole thing to be
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over with. She had watched Nick fight, and knew that these
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gangbangers weren't going to touch him at all.
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Minutes passed and Nick finished his opponent with a
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snap kick to the chin and two jabs to the nose. Barely winded,
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Nick turned to the next. Not a second passed before the guy
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made the sign that the fight was over. Nick nodded, took his
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jacket, and they moved over to the car. Instead of helping
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their friends, the remaining two just shook their heads and
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walked on. Such was gang loyalty.
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It was almost 2 in the morning before they got back to
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the mall parking lot. Nick pulled up to the three cars of his
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friends and parked. Climbing out, Nick left his door open and
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began talking with everyone. No work tommorow so no hurry in
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getting home. Standing around in the almost empty parking lot,
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talking under the stars had become a weekly thing as much as
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the dancing. The fresh air did them all good. A rather
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uneventful day for a Saturday, but Nick knew that everything
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would begin again on Monday when he opened the store. It always
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did....
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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= Questions, comments, bitches, ideas, etc : z1max@ttuvm1.ttu.edu :FUCK =
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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= Official F.U.C.K. Distribution sites and information =
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= Board Number Other =
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= ----- ------ ----- =
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= Ionic Destruction 215.722.0570 Eastern HQ =
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= Flatline 303.466.5368 Western HQ =
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= Purple Hell 806.791.0747 Southern HQ =
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= Culture Shock 717.652.5851 Dist. =
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= PCI 806.794.1438 Dist. =
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= Celestial Woodlands 806.798.6262 Dist. =
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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= Accounts NOT guaranteed on any F.U.C.K. distribution site. If you are =
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= interested in writing for, or in becoming a distribution site for =
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= F.U.C.K. call the Woodlands, and apply for an account, or mail Max =
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= at z1max@ttuvm1.ttu.edu or on the Woodlands. Knowledge is power... =
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