The young hustlers had retaliated against all out of town Hustlers. If you were'nt from "The Block" you were subject to get jumped on the spot. It was Friday morning, the first of the month. "Mother's Day" some liked to call it. Game Tight, Gee, and Doe sat on the steps of the hole-in-the-wall club on The Block called "The Crooked Window." "Pass the mothafucka blunt nigga," said Game Tight to Gee who had leaned back on the steps in a haze of smoke. After coughing for a few seconds he spoke. "Fu.... Fu.... Fuck you nigga. I.... I.... bought this shit. It's some mothafuckin killa too homie. Got a nigga twisted." Doe sat silently looking out into the middle of nowhere. His fifth of Wild Irish Rose was half empty. Gee was the oldest at twenty one, followed by Game Tight who was twenty. Doe brought up the rear at eighteen. Back in the day the P.G. Crew would give them dollars to buy candy from the local store before and after school. When the Crew closed down shop for good they saw it as their opportunity to come up. Originally there were five of them, but within the last five months they had buried one of their lil soldiers while another had been confined to a wheelchair for life.
