Friday, October 15, 2004

Life On The Line Part 8

The next day The Saint went downtown and talked to the cops. He managed to convince them he was never WBG's partner. They tried to convince him the meeting between WBG and The Thugs happened a week before Easter, but he stuck to his guns. So we both managed to come out of the mess unscathed. Everything quietened down for a few weeks, that is until JB showed up at my office.

Trashman: "Get the fuck out of here."
JB: "I need a job man."
Trashman: "Didn't I just tell you to get the fuck out of here."
JB: "Really dude I need a job."
Trashman: "If I have to throw you out I will, and I won't use the fucking door."
JB: "OK OK I'm going, but let me ask you a question first."
Trashman: "I ain't in the mood for your shit."
JB: "I just want to know if I'm going to be hit."
Trashman; "As long as you're out of here in five seconds I won't hit you."
JB: "No. I want to know if I'm going to be killed like PRK was."
Trashman: "What the fuck are you talking about? You know as well as I do that had nothing to do with WBG and you know I had nothing to do with it. Wait a minute are you wearing a wire?"
JB: "I'm going. I'm going."
Trashman: "You little rat fuck."
JB: "I'm sorry man."
Trashman: "Get the fuck out and just in case they can't hear me right now tell those fucking asshole detectives to fucking call me."
JB: "I...I...I don't know what you're talking about."
Trashman: "FUCK YOU. GET OUT."

JB ran out like his ass was on fire. The first thing I did was call The Saint and tell him what the cops just tried to pull and he needed to watch his step. The next day I received a call from Detective 1.

Detective 1: "JB was by here and said you threatened him."
Trashman: "Fuck you. You heard it all on the wire. I told him to leave my property, he was trespassing."
Detective 1: "Wire? What wire? I don't know what you're talking about."
Trashman: "Eat shit. You're still trying to connect me to the murder. You've got a hard on for me. In fact I think you're in love with me. Come on Detective 1 you know you wanna stick it in my ass."
Detective 1: "You know using that language over the phone is a crime."
Trashman: "Whatever. I will tell you this. From now on I only deal with Detective 2. I'm done dealing with you. I'm starting to think you're dirtier than I am."
Detective 1: "Let me tell you something you fuck. You're the criminal, not me. I call the shots, not you."
Trashman: "You know using that sort of language over the phone is a crime."
Detective 1: "Fuck you. You piece of..."
Trashman: "Goodbye detective."

I hung up the phone. Enough was enough. I closed down my little operation. There was no way I was going to jail for promoting prostitution after I had just dodged the bullet in the murder investigation. I figured I could live off the winnings I would get from playing cards with the rich boys that hung around The Saints shop. I had enough money I wouldn't have to worry for a while.

Everything smoothed out again for a few weeks. I was just starting to relax. Then JJ (my two legged pit bull) came to see me. He had one of those looks on his face. The kind that says I should be really worried.

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