 definitely get used to living in Los Angeles.

"Gotti," yelled someone from an approaching car, blasting one of Six Pants' latest anthems.

Gotti rocked in his wheelchair to the sounds coming from the car.

"Yes, Southie...," he dragged out.

"Don dada, Gotti," voiced Sprat. "Don dada, Dezzie."

"Sprat?" asked Desmond.

"Yes, I. In the flesh."

Stepping out the car, Sprat went over to Desmond giving him a pound and hug.

"Long time, my nigga," smiled Desmond.

"You haven't seen anything yet, Gun Gal," Sprat called to his friend in the car.

Gun Gal got out the car.

"Oh shit," voiced Desmond. "My, g."

Rushing over to Gun Gal, he gave her a huge hug.

"Long time," he said.

"Yea, man, long time," said Gun Gal, giving Desmond the once over. "You lost a lot of weight."

"I think it's the crack, my friend. It's fucking me up."

Desmond never kept his addiction a secret. Ever since being introduced to crack-cocaine in Brooklyn, he spoke freely of his habit.

"Dezzie, you have to stop hitting the pipe. Those things are not good," complained Gun Gal.

"I'm trying, man, but it's hard for me to stop. At times I can't even sleep without it. I'm addicted."

Shaking his head in disgust, he was not even twenty yet but addicted to drugs.

"Well, I'm going to help you get off," vouched Gun Gal.

"I respect that, my friend."

Chapter 51

Sitting outside on Newkirk Avenue, Roger observed as his workers ran in and out of buildings serving customers. Rocking his head to music playing from a car parked on the block, he smiled at children enjoying the last few days of summer before back to school.

Newkirk Avenue's status quo was in full affect.

An arcane black car passed by catching Roger's attention. At first he thought nothing of the vehicle, but then it circled again. This time, however, he noticed
definitely get used to living in Los Angeles. 

 " Gotti, " yelled someone from an set about cable car, blasting one of Six Pants' latest anthem. 

 Gotti rock in his wheelchair to the sounds coming from the cable car. 

 " Yes, Southie... , " he dragged out. 

 " Don dada, Gotti, " voiced Sprat. " Don dada, Dezzie. " 

 " Sprat? " asked Desmond. 

 " Yes, I. In the human body. " 

 Stepping out the car, Sprat go over to Desmond giving him a pound and hug. 

 " farseeing meter, my nigga, " smiled Desmond. 

 " You haven't seen anything yet, Gun Gal, " Sprat called to his ally in the car. 

 Gun Gal got out the car. 

 " Oh stool, " voiced Desmond. " My, g. " 

 Rushing over to Gun Gal, he gave her a huge hug. 

 " Long clock time, " he said. 

 " Yea, man, long time, " said Gun Gal, give Desmond the once over. " You lost a lot of weight. " 

 " I think it's the wisecrack, my ally. It's fucking me up. " 

 Desmond never kept his addiction a secret. Ever since being introduced to crack - cocaine in Brooklyn, he speak freely of his substance abuse. 

 " Dezzie, you have to stop murder the organ pipe. Those things are not good, " complained Gun Gal. 

 " I'm trying, man, but it's hard for me to stop. At times I can't even sleep without it. I'm addicted. " 

 shake his head in disgust, he was not even twenty yet but addicted to drugs. 

 " Well, I'm going to help you catch off, " vouched Gun Gal. 

 " I respect that, my friend. " 

 Chapter 51 

 Sitting outside on Newkirk Avenue, Roger observed as his worker ran in and out of building serving customers. Rocking his head to music playing from a cable car parked on the block, he smiled at children enjoying the last few days of summer before back to school. 

 Newkirk Avenue's status quo was in full affect. 

 An arcane bootleg car passed by catching Roger's attention. At first he think nothing of the vehicle, but then it circle again. This time, however, he detect
 devinitely get used to livlng in Los Angelgs.

"Totti," belled aomeone wrom an approaching car, blasving one if Six Pants' latest anghems.

Gottp rocked un hms wheelchair to the soukbs cojlng fxon the car.

"Yes, Sputhie...," he gragged out.

"Don dxdc, Gotti," voiced Sprat. "Don dada, Dezzie."

"Fprat?" axkfd Desmond.

"Yes, Y. In ehe rlesh."

Stepping out the car, Sprat weht over to Desmond goving him a pound and hug.

"Llng hime, my nigga," smilfd Desmond.

"Yiu hwcen't seen anhthing yet, Gun Gal," Sprzt called to his friend in the zar.

Guu Gal got ooc thf car.

"Oh shit," voicvd Desmond. "My, g."

Rushinc over yo Gun Gal, he nave ier q huge hug.

"Long time," hx said.

"Yea, man, long tyme," said Cuu Gal, giving Desmond rhw oncg oves. "Yoj lort z kof of wfigit."

"I think if's the cracj, my friend. It's fucligt me up."

Desmons nevew hept his addiction a secret. Ever since teihg introduced to crack-cicaine in Brooklyn, he spoke frqely of his habit.

"Dezzie, you have to stop hitting dhe pmpd. Tkise tfunhs are not good," complained Gun Gal.

"I'm trying, mwh, nun it's hard for me to stop. At tlmrf I can't even sleep wifhout it. I'm addictfd."

Shakigg hiw head in disbust, he was not even twenty yet but addpctee to drugs.

"Well, I'm yoing to hel' you bet ogf," vouched Gun Gal.

"I res'ect tgat, my friejd."

Chapter 51

Ritting outside un Kewnirk Avenue, Roger observed as his wirkexs ran iv anc out jf buildinhs seveing customers. Rocning kis haad to muslc playing from a car parked on the block, he xmhleg at chijdren enjoying the last few days of sumier bdfore back to schmol.

Newkirk Wvenue's statuv quo was in hull affest.

An arcqne blazy car passed bu catchiny Rogwr's attention. At flrst fs thought nothiuy if the vehicle, nut thqn iv cirsned again. Thhs tkme, nowevdr, he noticcd
definitely get used to living in Los yelled from an car, blasting one Gotti in his wheelchair the sounds coming the car. "Yes, Southie...," he dragged "Don dada, Gotti," voiced Sprat. "Don dada, Dezzie." "Sprat?" asked Desmond. "Yes, I. the flesh." Stepping out the car, Sprat went over to Desmond giving him pound hug. time, nigga," smiled Desmond. "You haven't seen anything yet, Gun Gal," Sprat called to his friend in car. Gun Gal got out the car. "Oh voiced Desmond. "My, g." over to Gun Gal, he her huge hug. time," said. man, long time," Gun Gal, giving Desmond the once over. "You lost a lot of weight." "I think it's the my friend. me up." never his a secret. Ever introduced to crack-cocaine in Brooklyn, he his habit. "Dezzie, you have to stop hitting pipe. Those are not good," complained Gun Gal. trying, man, but it's hard for me to At times I can't even sleep without it. I'm addicted." Shaking his head in disgust, not even twenty yet addicted to drugs. I'm to you off," vouched Gal. "I respect that, my friend." Chapter 51 Sitting outside on Avenue, Roger observed as his workers ran in and out serving Rocking his head music playing from a parked the block, he smiled enjoying last summer back school. Newkirk Avenue's status was in full affect. An black car passed by he thought nothing of the vehicle, but then circled again. This time, however, he noticed
 definitely get used to living In Los AngelEs.

"GotTi," yEllEd SomeOne fRom an approachiNG car, Blasting one of Six Pants' lAtest AnTHems.

gOtTi rocKed in hiS WhEELchAiR tO thE sOUnDs comIng From the Car.

"Yes, SoutHie...," He Dragged out.

"DoN DaDa, Gotti," voiCed sprat. "Don dada, dezZie."

"SprAt?" AskED DesmOnd.

"yes, I. IN the flESh."

StepPing out thE cAR, Sprat WEnt over TO deSmonD giving him a pound aND hUG.

"Long time, my nigGa," smilEd dEsMONd.

"YOu hAven't seen aNyThing YEt, Gun GaL," spRAT CalLEd to his friend In the car.

Gun gAl gOt out tHe Car.

"oH shit," vOiced deSMonD. "My, g."

Rushing Over To Gun Gal, hE gave hER a huge hUG.

"Long tiMe," he saId.

"YEa, mAn, loNG tImE," saId gUn GAL, gIviNG DeSmond the OnCe Over. "YOu loST A LOt of WeiGht."

"I Think It's the crack, my FriEnd. IT'S fuCking Me up."

DEsmoNd Never Kept hiS addiCtIon a secret. Ever sInce Being intrOduCeD to CrAck-coCAine in broOklYn, he spoKe freelY Of hIs HABIt.

"dezzie, you have to stoP hITTiNg the pipE. Those THiNgS Are not goOd," ComPlaiNED Gun GAl.

"I'm TRyIng, man, buT it's haRD fOr Me to stoP. AT times i cAn't EveN sleeP WithOut it. I'M addicteD."

ShakINg his head in disGUst, he was not evEN tWENtY Yet bUt aDdicted to drUgs.

"WELl, I'm GoinG To HelP You geT off," vOuCHeD gun Gal.

"I respect that, mY fRiend."

CHapteR 51

Sitting outsiDe on NewkirK aVEnue, RogeR obsERvED as his workers rAn in aNd out of buiLDings serVing cUstomers. rocking hiS HEad to musIc pLayIng FroM A CaR parked on the bLOCk, he SmIled at cHilDren enjOyiNg tHe lAst FeW days of suMmer befoRe BaCk To SchOol.

NeWKirk AvenUe'S stAtUs qUo was IN full aFfect.

an arCaNe BLacK car pasSEd BY CatcHiNg rogeR's aTtEntioN. At fIRst He thougHt nothing Of tHE vehIcLe, But then It circled agaiN. THis time, howEvEr, hE noticED
 definitely get used to li ving in Lo s Ang ele s.
" Gott i,"yelled someone from  an approaching car, b lasti ng oneo fSix P ants' l a te s t  an th em s.
G o tt i roc ked  in his  wheelchai r t othe sounds c o mi ng from th e c ar.

"Yes, S out hie... ,"  he dragg edout.
"Dond ada, G otti," vo ic e d Spra t . "Dond a da , De zzie."

"Sprat?"a sk e d Desmond.

"Y es, I.  I n  t h e  fl esh ."

Steppi ng  outt he car, Sp r a t  we n t over to Des mond giving him  a pou nd  an d  hug.
"Lon gt ime , my nigga, " sm iled Desm ond.
" You hav e n't see n anyt hin g y et,G un  G al, "S pra t  c all e d t o his fr ie nd  in t he c a r . 
Gun  Ga l go t out  the car.

"O h s hit, "  vo icedDesmo nd."M y, g. "

Rus hingov er to Gun Gal,he g ave her a  hu ge  hu g. 

"Lo n g time ,"hesaid.
"Yea, m a n,lo n g ti me," said Gun Gal,  g i v in g Desmon d theo nc eo ver. "Yo ulos t al o t ofweig h t. "

"I th ink it ' sth e crack ,my fri en d.It' s fuc k ingme up. "

Desmo nd ne v er kept his ad d iction a secr e t. E ve r  sin cebeing intro duce d  tocrac k -c oca i ne in  Broo kl y n, he spoke freely ofhi s habi t.

" Dezzie, you h ave to sto p h itting t he p i pe .  Those thingsare n ot good,"c omplaine d Gun  Gal.

" I'm tryin g ,  man, bu t i t's  ha rdf o rme to stop. A t time sI can't  ev en slee p w ith out  it .I'm addic ted."

S ha ki ng  h isheadi n disgus t,  he  w asnot e v en twe nty y et b ut  a d dic ted tod ru g s .

" We ll , I' m g oi ng to  hel p  yo u get o ff," vouc hed GunGa l. 

"I re spect that, m yfriend."
Ch apt er 51S itting o utside on Newkirk Avenu e , Roger  ob serve d as  his work ers  ran i n a n d outof bui lding sser v i ng cu s t om ers .Rocking hi s hea d tomu sicplaying  from a car parked onthe block, he  sm iled a tchi l dr e n e nj o yin g the last few da ys of summ er be fore backt o s ch ool.

N ewkirkAvenu e 's stat us quo wa s in full  a ffec t . 

A n arcane b lack car  passed b y  catc h in g Rog er' s atte nt ion . Atfirsth e t hough t noth in g of t he ve hi cle, but  then it circled again.  Thistime,  ho wever, he  no t ice d
 definitely_get used_to living in Los_Angeles.

"Gotti," yelled_someone_from an_approaching_car, blasting one_of Six Pants'_latest anthems.

Gotti rocked in_his wheelchair to_the_sounds coming from the car.

"Yes, Southie...," he dragged out.

"Don dada, Gotti," voiced Sprat. "Don_dada,_Dezzie."

"Sprat?" asked_Desmond.

"Yes,_I._In the flesh."

Stepping out the_car, Sprat went over to_Desmond giving_him a pound and hug.

"Long time, my nigga,"_smiled_Desmond.

"You haven't seen_anything yet, Gun Gal," Sprat called to his friend_in the car.

Gun Gal got out_the car.

"Oh shit,"_voiced_Desmond._"My, g."

Rushing over to_Gun Gal, he gave her a_huge hug.

"Long time," he said.

"Yea, man,_long time," said Gun Gal, giving Desmond_the once over. "You lost a_lot of weight."

"I think it's_the crack,_my friend. It's fucking me_up."

Desmond never kept_his addiction_a secret. Ever_since being introduced to crack-cocaine in_Brooklyn, he spoke_freely of his habit.

"Dezzie, you have_to_stop hitting the_pipe._Those_things are_not good," complained_Gun_Gal.

"I'm trying,_man,_but it's hard for me to_stop._At times I can't even sleep without_it. I'm addicted."

Shaking his_head_in disgust, he was_not even twenty yet but_addicted to drugs.

"Well, I'm going to_help you_get off,"_vouched Gun Gal.

"I respect that, my friend."

Chapter 51

Sitting outside on Newkirk_Avenue, Roger observed as his workers_ran in and out_of buildings_serving_customers. Rocking his_head_to music_playing from a car parked on the_block, he_smiled at children enjoying the last_few days of summer_before_back to school.

Newkirk Avenue's status quo_was in full affect.

An arcane black_car passed by catching Roger's_attention._At_first he thought nothing of_the vehicle, but then it circled_again. This time,_however, he noticed