My name is Chess and this is another of my stories. My friend Chris Thompson had sold drugs since we were 14 or 15 years old. He had done it quietly and with no fanfare. I didn't know what he did until I was about 18 or 19. He always seemed to have money and never seemed to want for anything. That was a dead giveaway because his family was poorer and in worse shape than mine. He was smarter and more astute than the other boys though. He Kept a low profile.. He sold his drugs quietly. He didn't wear a lot of flashy clothes and didn't drive around in flashy cars.
The police never knew his name and even other players had no clue as to who he was until one day he was the Boss and owned all of West and South Philadelphia's real estate. Chris kept things quiet mostly ,during his short reign..very little mayhem. Then one day, he moved past that and into the position of buyer and supplier. He bought from the "New York" boys as he called them and supplied several other organizations...thus taking himself off the street. Just like that, he had cashed out and gotten out of the game altogether.
With Chris gone, things changed in the streets. By that, I mean....a huge war slowly erupted and the alliance between the five major guys that Chris had handpicked to succeed him fell apart.
Panama Jack got it first...The Dapper Panamanian Drug Kingpin was coming out of his favorite barber shop one morning with a fresh haircut and shave, when a Black Escalade drove by and two shotgun blasts dropped him where he stood.
Bossman Jones was next...He was coming out of a strip club with a pretty little thing, all set to take her home with him, when two guys wearing hoodys, jeans and sneakers ran past him and fired into him with Glock nines...Killing him and the stripper!
The Bullets continued to fly...The "Playa President" was getting ready to enter his Brownstone when two Black BMW's drove up....Four pistols sparked at the same time and he fell to the ground...as dead as dead could be.
Greasy Jake was next...He was in a Hoagie and Steak shop eating a Cheese steak, when a kid about 16 in jeans, a white tee shirt and white sneaks and wearing black aviator shades walked up
behind him and shot him twice in the back of the head....The greasy cheese-steak was still in his fat stubby fingers as he hit the ground.
Fathead Newton saw the writing on the wall..He and several of his top people caught the first thing smoking out of Philadelphia the night after Greasy Jake bought it and that was that.
When the smoke and the blood cleared....The winner and new King of Philadelphia was a vicious
little young player named "Goldie" His real name was George Goldberg Stevens.. He was the love child of an African American woman and a Jewish Father, who had been the neighborhood jeweler. We called him "Georgie" must of his life and he was Slackjaw's protoge'. Angered at Slackjaw's murder (allegedly done by Greasy Jake's people) and vowing not up give up a bit of the Southwest Philly turf..."Goldie" had now taken over West Philly, North and South Philly.
Chris was no longer in the game, but he was close to the streets and what he was hearing from his former New York Connection was that they didn't like doing business with Goldie.
Unlike Chris, he was loud...He was talkative and he was flashy..He rode around in high end automobiles with his initials mongramed on the side "GGS"...He had had more than a few run ins
with the police and with all of the drug murders in Philly now, was almost certainly a target of the FBI. They wanted Chris to talk some sense in him before they had to do it. The New York guys weren't the most talkative people...if you know what I mean. Chris told them that he was out of the game now and that they could do what they felt right...Yet even he didn't want to see New Yorkers in Philadelphia running things. He told me all of this one morning when we were having coffee at the diner...the diner where I had met Cherry.
"Chris, why do I feel like a gangster now?" I laughed as he brought me up to speed on things.
"Gangster? You?? You aint no gangster Chess, not hardly and neither am I..not anymore."
He said.
"So why are you puttin me down on who's who in the drug world?" I asked.
"Just making conversation Chess. Allejandro, my guy from New York did me a lot of solids back in the day...so I figure I owe him at least this one last thing. I'm gonna go talk to the youngin..Try to straighten him out...." said Chris.
"He don't have to listen to you Chris....He's the man now you know." I said.
"Yeah ,I know Chess....but a word to the wise is sufficient....He took down some pretty heavy players and they still got people on the street who aint too cool with him...Plus these New Yorkers don't like him at all...He might want to slow his roll down some and make himself ,you know...a little more likable if that's possible." said Chris.
"Likable??? Georgie? I mean "Goldie" Nobody likes him...People in Slackjaw's crew don't even like him...Don't waste your time Chris." I cautioned.
"No?, You don't think I should say somethin to the youngin?" he asked.
Just then...A familiar figure walked in the diner...He had on shades like a jazz musician and a nice
pressed White button down shirt and nice blue slacks and shiny black wingtips...It was Fathead
Newton.
"What's up Chris??, How you doin Chess??? How's retirement treatin ya playa?" he laughed.
"Fathead...I thought you skipped town." I asked.
"I did for awhile...but now I'm back."He said.
"Well, I'm glad to see you Fathead...but if I was you, I'd keep a low pro...you know...Til I can talk
to the youngin.." said Chris.
"Screw him....I been in New York, talkin to Allejandro...He's sending some muscle down here to watch my back as I set up shop again...You tell that youngin that if he don't come correct, I'm gonna be coming to his funeral." said Fathead Newton.
"Yo man, why don't you just calm down and let me smooth this over?" asked Chris...Ever the negotiator...
'Do what you gotta do Chris..Say what you gotta say...but I aint taken no foolishness off of that kid." said Fathead.
Chris shrugged...He looked at me and I looked at him....He was my friend and my partner...He knew that I was down with him....Ride or die..
He tapped Fathead on his shoulder......
"Nice Cuff links...Next time I see you, you'll put me down with where you got em......" said Chris.
Fathead smiled and nodded.
The police never knew his name and even other players had no clue as to who he was until one day he was the Boss and owned all of West and South Philadelphia's real estate. Chris kept things quiet mostly ,during his short reign..very little mayhem. Then one day, he moved past that and into the position of buyer and supplier. He bought from the "New York" boys as he called them and supplied several other organizations...thus taking himself off the street. Just like that, he had cashed out and gotten out of the game altogether.
With Chris gone, things changed in the streets. By that, I mean....a huge war slowly erupted and the alliance between the five major guys that Chris had handpicked to succeed him fell apart.
Panama Jack got it first...The Dapper Panamanian Drug Kingpin was coming out of his favorite barber shop one morning with a fresh haircut and shave, when a Black Escalade drove by and two shotgun blasts dropped him where he stood.
Bossman Jones was next...He was coming out of a strip club with a pretty little thing, all set to take her home with him, when two guys wearing hoodys, jeans and sneakers ran past him and fired into him with Glock nines...Killing him and the stripper!
The Bullets continued to fly...The "Playa President" was getting ready to enter his Brownstone when two Black BMW's drove up....Four pistols sparked at the same time and he fell to the ground...as dead as dead could be.
Greasy Jake was next...He was in a Hoagie and Steak shop eating a Cheese steak, when a kid about 16 in jeans, a white tee shirt and white sneaks and wearing black aviator shades walked up
behind him and shot him twice in the back of the head....The greasy cheese-steak was still in his fat stubby fingers as he hit the ground.
Fathead Newton saw the writing on the wall..He and several of his top people caught the first thing smoking out of Philadelphia the night after Greasy Jake bought it and that was that.
When the smoke and the blood cleared....The winner and new King of Philadelphia was a vicious
little young player named "Goldie" His real name was George Goldberg Stevens.. He was the love child of an African American woman and a Jewish Father, who had been the neighborhood jeweler. We called him "Georgie" must of his life and he was Slackjaw's protoge'. Angered at Slackjaw's murder (allegedly done by Greasy Jake's people) and vowing not up give up a bit of the Southwest Philly turf..."Goldie" had now taken over West Philly, North and South Philly.
Chris was no longer in the game, but he was close to the streets and what he was hearing from his former New York Connection was that they didn't like doing business with Goldie.
Unlike Chris, he was loud...He was talkative and he was flashy..He rode around in high end automobiles with his initials mongramed on the side "GGS"...He had had more than a few run ins
with the police and with all of the drug murders in Philly now, was almost certainly a target of the FBI. They wanted Chris to talk some sense in him before they had to do it. The New York guys weren't the most talkative people...if you know what I mean. Chris told them that he was out of the game now and that they could do what they felt right...Yet even he didn't want to see New Yorkers in Philadelphia running things. He told me all of this one morning when we were having coffee at the diner...the diner where I had met Cherry.
"Chris, why do I feel like a gangster now?" I laughed as he brought me up to speed on things.
"Gangster? You?? You aint no gangster Chess, not hardly and neither am I..not anymore."
He said.
"So why are you puttin me down on who's who in the drug world?" I asked.
"Just making conversation Chess. Allejandro, my guy from New York did me a lot of solids back in the day...so I figure I owe him at least this one last thing. I'm gonna go talk to the youngin..Try to straighten him out...." said Chris.
"He don't have to listen to you Chris....He's the man now you know." I said.
"Yeah ,I know Chess....but a word to the wise is sufficient....He took down some pretty heavy players and they still got people on the street who aint too cool with him...Plus these New Yorkers don't like him at all...He might want to slow his roll down some and make himself ,you know...a little more likable if that's possible." said Chris.
"Likable??? Georgie? I mean "Goldie" Nobody likes him...People in Slackjaw's crew don't even like him...Don't waste your time Chris." I cautioned.
"No?, You don't think I should say somethin to the youngin?" he asked.
Just then...A familiar figure walked in the diner...He had on shades like a jazz musician and a nice
pressed White button down shirt and nice blue slacks and shiny black wingtips...It was Fathead
Newton.
"What's up Chris??, How you doin Chess??? How's retirement treatin ya playa?" he laughed.
"Fathead...I thought you skipped town." I asked.
"I did for awhile...but now I'm back."He said.
"Well, I'm glad to see you Fathead...but if I was you, I'd keep a low pro...you know...Til I can talk
to the youngin.." said Chris.
"Screw him....I been in New York, talkin to Allejandro...He's sending some muscle down here to watch my back as I set up shop again...You tell that youngin that if he don't come correct, I'm gonna be coming to his funeral." said Fathead Newton.
"Yo man, why don't you just calm down and let me smooth this over?" asked Chris...Ever the negotiator...
'Do what you gotta do Chris..Say what you gotta say...but I aint taken no foolishness off of that kid." said Fathead.
Chris shrugged...He looked at me and I looked at him....He was my friend and my partner...He knew that I was down with him....Ride or die..
He tapped Fathead on his shoulder......
"Nice Cuff links...Next time I see you, you'll put me down with where you got em......" said Chris.
Fathead smiled and nodded.
(Conclusion Next..........)
15 comments:
Looks like a war between this Goldie guy and Fathead Newton is inevitable.. Chris may have to get back into this and take over the streets again just to keep the peace.
Wow...This entire series has been nothing short of explosive...Bullets flying..New players rising...You are bringing the mayhem Keith....Now what happens next.
I liked the love triangle between Chess, Cherry and Rell better than this street violence opus...but I know the the majority of your readers love this type of thing...I just hope that the next series is a little toned down.
I am curious though as to what is going to happen next...I see Chris taking back the streets from both Fathead and Goldie.
All I can say is wow Keith..This is getting better and better.
Chris is going to take back the streets ...He was born into this..He can't just give it up. He's not Chess.
Keith..I know that a war between Fathead and Goldie is brewing...I can't wait to read the next installment.
If I may add my two cents..I think Chris is going to bring both guys together to put up a united front against the New York boys. New York looks like they want to take over.
I can't wait to meet this guy Goldie.
It's gettin hot on them Philly streets Keith..You bringin it brother!! Can't wait to read more.
Lovin this Keith...I can't wait to see Chris and Chess go up against Goldie.
Bullets have been flyin my brother...I'm wondering how long Chris and Chess can stay above the fray.
I love the action in these stories..Not a slow chapter..From Eddie's wild heist to this...Can't wait for the next one Keith.
This is something else...I'm following this very closely Keith...Can't wait to see these two camps (Goldie and Fathead go to the mattresses.)
The Politics of War and the street corner...This is how it all goes down Keith. Love this.
Doesn't look like there will be any sex in this one will there?
Just askin?
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