Ride or Die

rod

7:23am

Cuz, wake up. Man you wouldn’t believe what’s going on. Can you come pick me up…

Hello… yea. I’m up. I’m up!

They kicked me off the MARTA bus on some bullshit. I’m over here by the City Trendz on…

*Click*

Hello…hello? Ugh…

The day prior had been exhausting for Stewart and that morning was shaping up similarly. He rolled out of bed and headed out of the door to pick up his cousin Tiffany. Tiffany was good at making a bad situation worst. There was no telling what had happened. As Stewart arrived he could see the stopped bus and Tiffany yelling from the sidewalk at the bus driver.

No…No! Fuck you, you raggedy mutha fucka. My cousin’s here now anyway. Get the fuck on!

 The bus pulled off and Tiffany bopped over to the car with a smile as if she wasn’t just yelling at the top of her lungs.  She flopped down in the car and gave Stewart a hug.

What up Cuz?

What’s up with you? How do you get kicked off the bus?

Maaaaaannnnn, So I was coming out of the station right and I saw my bus leaving. He was leaving like 2 minutes early and…

Tiffany’s stories had the tendency to be over animated and lengthy. Stewart had learned to drown out the unimportant parts and tune in on the pertinent details, because there was no stopping her stories once they had begun.

…and I said “give me a chance to get on the bus for you start making all these demands” and he was like “I said turn the music down!” and I said “You ain’t gotta yell at me, I just got off of work. I am tired. I’ve been living in this city me whole life, you don’t think I know that you can’t listen to music on the bus without headphones? If you wouldn’t have left early then my headphones wouldn’t have come out trying to run you down… ”. After that we just kept going back and forth and that’s when I called you because I knew he was going to kick me off.

So…why didn’t you just cut the music off and go sit down.

See you’re missing the point cuz. I shouldn’t have had to run him down in the first place. My music was already on and I was just trying to get home to my bed.

Yea…I see your point. He was unnecessarily rude and you were on edge because you were tired. Yall both just had a moment.

Yea… I just wish I could find him and beat him up or something. That whole situation was unnecessary.

Stewart and Tiffany shared a laugh as they rode to their neighborhood. They lived a few houses down from each other and were in constant communication. As children, Tiffany and Stewart were very close. Stewart would always protect and save Tiffany from situations she’d get herself into. They would always pop over each other’s houses to hang out. Tiffany was new to the neighborhood but Stewart had grown up there. He’d recently finished his enlistment in the Army and had moved back home to find work. He was a former member of a Black Ops unit that had been disbanded and was often bored due to his unemployment. He was always looking for something to get into. He had trouble finding work as most of his experience was in combat field operations and was classified. Tiffany had no idea that she’d just given Stewart something to do.

7:48am [the next day]

Tiffany walked up her steps to her door. She had just gotten off the bus from work. She had her headphones on and was singing along as usual as she stepped over the threshold into her house. As she lifted her head she jumped back, startled by the presence of 3 ski masked men in all black in her living room. One of the men stepped towards Tiffany and spoke in a familiar tone.

Good Morning Cuz.

What the fuck is going on in here?!? Who are you people?

Well…you can just call us the “Watchers”. We heard you had a problem on the bus yesterday.

Yea…

We are here to rectify that problem. See, we don’t take kindly to those that abuse their “powers” in positions of service in our community. We have a surprise for you Tiffany.

The masked men led Tiffany downstairs to her basement. It had been stripped down to the bare walls. In the corner of the basement was a middle aged man zip tied to the frame of a wicker chair, naked and gagged. The only light in the room came from a small bulb loosely hanging from the ceiling above the naked man. His genitals hung between his legs through the bottom of the chair frame.

What. The. Fuck.

 Tiffany was beyond disgusted and in shock. She wanted to leave but two of the masked men were standing behind her blocking the way back up the stairs. The third masked man pulled up a chair inches away from the naked man’s face and straddled it backwards. He smacked the back of the man’s head to wake him up. The naked man woke up and began to squirm.

See… it doesn’t feel good to be woken up unexpectedly, does it? How’d you sleep Mr. Philips?

The naked man began yelling through the gag and tugging at his restraints.

Ohh, glad to hear it Mr. Philips. You are here because you need a “Personality realignment”. I checked your file and it seems that you have had several complaints launched against you in regards to putting people off your bus. That’s not nice. We want you to understand that it’s nice to be nice to people. This is something you have to know in a position of service. Are you tracking? Gooooood. Now, you see that young lady over there Mr. Philips…

The masked man pointed at Tiffany.  The other two masked men grabbed Tiffany by her shoulders and brought her closer to the light. The naked man lifted his head to meet the eyes of the woman he had kicked off the bus the day prior.

…she is a loved one of mine and I don’t appreciate how you treated her yesterday. Now I’d like you to apologize. Is that too much to ask?

The masked man reached over and pulled the gag from the bus driver’s mouth.

Fuck you and that bitch! Do you know who I am? I am going to fuck you up when I get loose…

The masked man put the gag back over the bus driver’s mouth as he patted him tenderly on the top of his head.

Aww, I’m sorry Mr. Philips. The correct answer was “I apologize ma’am”. You were soooo close. I thought you had it there for a second, but thank you for playing. We aren’t going to send you home empty handed though. Johnny, tell ‘em what he’s won!

One of the masked men reached over into the darkness and retrieved an open jar of peanut butter. He tossed it to the masked man seated next to the bus driver. The masked man took one of his gloves off and and tasted it.

MMMM extra chunky, my favorite. Do you like extra chunky Mr. Philips? It doesn’t matter, you won’t be eating it.

The seated masked man pulled a set of surgical gloves from his back pocket and put them on. He scooped a large handful of peanut butter out of the jar and rubbed it on the bus driver’s hanging genitals. Tiffany watched in awe. The seated masked man began to whistle and a large dog could be heard barking in the darkness. The bus driver began to panic. A large black lab emerged from behind the other two masked men and sat down next to the seated masked man. The seated masked man rubbed the dog down as he feed it peanut butter from the jar.

Hey boy. You hungry? You hungry? I got some peanut butter for ya. Yea…you like that. You like that don’t you? Mr. Philips I want you to meet somebody. This is my friend Gunther. Gunther really dislikes mean people… but he loves peanut butter. I found him walking the streets half dead. He was malnourished and had been abused by his previous owner. I guess he broke free somehow. I gave him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich but he only ate the peanut butter side. Weird right? He followed me home that night and ever since then, when I see him I feed him a double peanut butter sandwich. Man that dog loves peanut butter…

The restrained bus driver went bizzerk, yelling and wiggling as much as he could gagged and bound to the wicker chair.

It looks like Mr. Philips want’s to play. You want to play with Mr. Philips? You want to play with Mr. Philips? Go head boy, go get ‘em…

© Stephen R. Freshley and wordbending, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this
material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Stephen R. Freshley and Word Bending a secret but not so secret blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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