A Gangsta Twist Saga

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Once the flight reached it's cruising altitude, Taz watched as Keno reached under his seat, grabbed his carry-on bag, and pulled out his portable DVD player. Keno smiled at Taz as he inserted his
Scarface
DVD into his Toshiba SD-P2800. He loved that movie. Every time they went on a mission out of town, he repeatedly watched that DVD. Taz shook his head from side to side as he watched his partner plug his headphones into the DVD player.

Keno noticed him staring and asked, “Are you trying to watch
'Face
with me, dog?”

Taz shook his head no and said, “I'm chillin', fool. I'm thinking about what I'm going to get into when we get back home. I'm so fuckin' tired of the same ol' shit we be doing. Either it's the club or riding around town, flossin' and shit. I think I'm going out to Norman and spend some time with Tazneema. It's been way too long since I chilled with her.”

“Yeah, that's straight, but tonight we're still going to the club and get our floss on. We gots to let the haters hate,” Keno said with a smile on his face.

With a smile of his own, Taz said, “Yeah, I know.” He sat back and reclined in his chair and started thinking about the mission they had just completed out in Seattle. As usual, everything went as planned. Hell, nothing ever went wrong whenever Won put something together. They had just successfully robbed some dope boys for over 1.5 million dollars, not including the jewelry and drugs that they took. Taz and his five comrades didn't fuck with drugs; all they took for themselves was the money. Won would look out for them with the jewels and keep the drugs for himself. That way, everyone would be happy, especially Taz and the crew. As long as they continued to maintain their strict and orderly ways, he didn't foresee any future problems with how they were earning their money.

It felt real good to be financially secure, but it felt even better to know that no matter what happened, it was highly unlikely that they would ever go back to broke. That was something that just simply could not happen. They were all millionaires.
Millionaires! Robbin' punk-ass dope boys has made us all fuckin' millionaires. Now, ain't that somethin'!
he thought as he closed his eyes.

As the plane was making it's final decent into Will Rogers Airport in Oklahoma City, one of the flight attendants lightly shook Taz and told him that he had to put his seat in the upright position for the landing. He opened his eyes, did as she had asked, and turned toward Keno.

Keno was smiling as he watched Al Pacino shooting up a bunch of Colombian hit men in his mansion. “Get 'em, 'Face! Don't go out by yourself, baby!” he said as if this was his first time ever watching the movie.

Taz tapped him on his shoulder, and Keno pulled the headphones out of the DVD. Taz told him, “Dog, turn that shit off. We're about to land.”

“Hold the fuck up. It's almost over. You know this is my favorite part of the flick. 'Face is about to get smashed, but he's going out like a warrior, for real.”

Taz stared at Keno briefly, shook his head again, and closed his eyes.

When their flight pulled up to the gate, Taz told Keno, “Call the others to make sure that they're on schedule.”

Keno reached into his pocket, pulled out a thin cell phone, and started dialing. After a few seconds he asked someone on the other line, “Are y'all straight? . . . That's cool. We just got in too. We'll be at the house in about thirty to forty minutes. Have you gotten at Bo-Pete and Wild Bill yet? . . . Get at them and let them know everything is everything. By the time y'all make it in from Tulsa and they get in from Dallas, it'll be time to hit the club. So make sure y'all's gear is up to par. It's time to party, my nigga! . . . All right, I'll tell him. Out!” Keno closed his cell phone. “Bob and Red just got to Tulsa, and they're on their way in now. By the time we get to the house and get dressed and shit, Bo-Pete and Wild Bill should be there too. Dog, I hate all of this separate flying shit. Why we gots to get down like that every time we bounce?”

Taz frowned at Keno but remained silent as they left the plane. As they walked through the terminal, Taz noticed two of the three undercover airport security officers staring at them. He wasn't worried because all they had on them was a small amount of money.
Thanks to Won, we never have to worry about petty shit,
he said to himself as he led the way out of the airport.

Once they were outside, they climbed into one of the airport shuttle vans and rode in silence to the long-term parking area. After they were inside of Taz's all-black 2005 Denali, he answered Keno's question. “Dog, ever since we've been getting down, we've always maintained our discipline, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, why would you ask me some stupid shit? You know Won has it set up for us to move in sets of twos. That's how we move when we're at home, and that's how we move when we're on a mission. I swear, sometimes you just don't think before you run that mouth of yours! Bob was right. You be too damn anxious to get into shit. You need to relax a li'l, homey.”

“Ain't that a bitch! That nigga Bob be just as anxious as I am. Shit, I ain't even talkin' about gettin' into shit. I was just thinking, like, damn! This shit always slows us down a little. Fuck! After we get paid, it's all about relaxing and having a good time, my nigga. You need to get off your ass and try it sometimes.”

“What you talkin' 'bout, fool? I go out every time y'all go out.”

“Yeah, I know. You go out with us, but you don't be trying to have a good time. All you do is post up and let a few bitches holla. But on the real, you don't be trying to holla back. It's like you're just passing the time, my nigga.”

Taz knew Keno was right, but how could he explain that he just wasn't into that bullshit-ass club scene? How could he tell one of his lifelong friends that all he wanted to do was continue to make sure that their rental houses around the city were straight, and enjoy the fruits of their work by staying in his big-ass house and working out in his home gym? How could he explain how lonely he really was? Those were things that he kept close to his chest, because no one would ever understand the pain that he felt and lived with daily . . .
no one!
“Whatever, nigga! You just make sure that you get real fly tonight, 'cause I'm bustin' out the burgundy chinchilla.”

Smiling, Keno said, “Oh, so we're sportin' the minks, huh? That's cool, 'cause I ordered a tight-ass creme chinchilla a few weeks ago. I've been waiting for it to get kind of chilly to sport that bitch. So it's on and poppin' tonight, nigga. You better be careful!”

“What are you talkin' 'bout now, fool?” Taz asked as he pulled into the circular driveway of Keno's mini-mansion.

“That chinchilla be making them hoes fiend, and you know you ain't with that much female attention.” Keno started laughing as he got out of the truck. Taz smiled and gave him the finger as he pulled out of the driveway once he saw Keno go inside of his home.

By the time Taz made it to his home, Wild Bill, Bo-Pete, Red and Bob were all standing beside Bob's all-black Escalade. Bo-Pete's all-black Navigator was parked behind Bob's truck. They turned toward Taz as he jumped out of his truck.

“What up, fools? I'm glad to see y'all made it. Come on in so we can hit Won and check on everything,” he said as he led the way into his 15,000-square-foot mini-mansion. Even though he stayed alone, he loved all of the space he had. Staying way out on the outskirts of the City made him feel secure. His whereabouts and safety were two things that were very important to him. But more importantly, he just loved being secluded.

Once they were inside, he led them to one of his two dens so they could all relax. Bob went to the bar and poured himself a shot of Rémy Martin, while Bo-Pete and Wild Bill pulled the cover back to Taz's pool table and started a game. Red turned on Taz's sixty-inch plasma screen and turned the channel to ESPN. Taz went upstairs to his bedroom and set his bag down. He grabbed the phone and sent a text message to Won. After that, he walked back downstairs and rejoined his comrades.

The plushness of his home was so amazing that one would swear that a woman had decorated. The two dens were both identical; soft brown Italian leather sectional sofas, with a pool table in each, the same color as his furniture. Plasma screen televisions and the most sophisticated entertainment system money could buy gave his dens the feel as if one was in a high-tech arcade or something. The other ten rooms were just as tasteful, as were the four bathrooms, for that matter. Taz left no stone unturned when it came to his home. After all, he was a millionaire.

Just as Taz was about to speak, there was a loud knock at the front door. He sighed and said, “Man, go let that fool Keno in, please.”

Red got up and went and let Keno inside. A minute later, he returned followed by Keno. Keno was dressed to impress. He had on a pair of creme-colored Azzure jeans with matching colored Timberland boots. You couldn't see his shirt because his creme-colored chinchilla mink was zipped all the way up. He smiled as he unzipped his coat and said, “What up, my peoples?”

“Damn, nigga! When you get that?” asked Bo-Pete.

Before Keno could answer him, Taz said, “He ordered it a few weeks ago. Now, sit down so we can take care of this shit. We need to get this out of the way.” Taz sat down, flipped open his laptop, and quickly started tapping on the keys. After a few minutes of this he stopped, smiled, and said, “Now that's what I'm talkin' 'bout!”

“It's all there?” asked Red.

“Yep. Here, check your account,” Taz said as he passed the small computer to Red.

Red quickly punched in his password and pulled up his account in the Cayman Islands. After a few minutes he, too, smiled and said, “Oh yeah! I'm loving that shit!”

After passing the laptop around, each member of the six-man crew saw that their accounts in the islands had an additional two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, profit from their short trip to Seattle. Not bad for twenty-four hours of work. Not bad at all.

Wild Bill closed the laptop and said, “Well, that's that. Let's go get something to eat before we hit the club. I'm hungry.”

Laughing loudly, Bob said, “Nigga, for a li'l nigga, you always hungry. But I feel you, gee. I'm starving my damn self. That airline food ain't nothin' nice.”

Taz's cell rang. He quickly flipped it open and said, “What up, Won?”

“What's up with you, Babyboy? I see y'all made it back safely.”

“Yeah, we're good. How 'bout your end? You straight?”

“Always. Have you checked your accounts yet?”

“Yeah, we just finished. Everything is everything. Good lookin' on the jewels and shit.”

“No problem. I tried to get y'all as much as I could for them. I'm glad you're satisfied. Now, check this. I'm on the move, so stay ready because you and the troops will definitely have to stay on standby for this next one. It could happen as soon as next week—possibly sooner.”

“Don't trip. We got you. All we need is the call. As long as you set it up, we'll be ready,” Taz replied confidently.

“I know, Babyboy. That's why you're my man. Now, tell them knuckleheads with you that I said enjoy, be merry, and most of all, be good! Out!”

Taz closed his phone and gave Won's message to the crew. They all laughed.

Taz then ran upstairs and changed into his gear for the night. He put on a pair of black Rocawear jeans and a black T-shirt; then he grabbed his black Timbs and his burgundy chinchilla. He stepped toward the bedroom mirror and smiled. The lights shined brightly against his one-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar platinum and diamond fronts. He reached into his drawer and pulled out his Rolex, then his two-hundred-and-fifty gram platinum chain and put it around his neck. The diamonds in his Jesus piece sparkled in the lighting as he adjusted it around his neck. “Now that's what a nigga calls bling-bling!” he said aloud as he grabbed his wallet and went back downstairs. “Time to go clubbin'!”