Once in the Life Page #9

an uptight broad, wore her hair

pinned up in a bun. She comes back from

talking to the old man. All of a sudden

she's wearing it down around her

shoulders. You know, like

out of nowhere, she's all relaxed. She's got that

well-f***ed look, you know? She never said

another word to me for the rest

of the year, not a f***ing word

except, "thank you, Mr. Murphy," when I handed in

my test, and that was the reason I suddenly became

a mathematical genius. Broke my mother's heart. Because I knew about it, I could never look her

in her eyes again. Now I ain't going

to sit here and tell you that he didn't give you

and your poor mother a hard way to go, but me and my mother

put up with more of his bullshit

on a day-to-day basis than you could ever

imagine, Mike. So believe me

when I tell you I know

how you feel, bro. Believe me, man, I do. Damn. That's f***ed up,

yo. Tony:
Now, you know

how some b*tches cry about the wind being high,

cops being on their trail, about the snow and the sleet

being a**hole-deep and all the pimps

can go to hell. Sitting in greasy spoons,

jukebox saloons, killing a lot of time, sucking on beers,

crying hard-luck tears while the pimps

ain't got a dime. Both: Just sitting and bullshitting, sucking them

party friends. Nodding so tough--

they're out messing with stuff-- that they miss

all the righteous tricks. Why, you could

lap their lid for the lowest bid,

set that young ass on fire-- the cheapest young girl

you could buy. Digging that c*nt

for a solid month while it's dope that's been

doing all the pimping. But not this triple-a

broad of mine. She was a sex machine

that could walk between raindrops come typhoon,

blizzard, or Gale. Standing on the hot brick,

she'd turn a trick. Man, she'd trick

with creeps and freaks, toenail creeps,

breeds I can't even name, eskimo, negroes, Jews,

apache, sioux. To her, it was

all the same. Any way she would follow

that righteous dollar to hell if she had to go. And be down there

just waiting that trick with Satan. She was really

a money-making ho. Why, for a lick or a lap

of that mental trap, the tricks defied her due. Of course, her longest bread

was made by head, and, Jim, how that b*tch

could chew. Now all my troubles began, and I quit snorting

and commenced the hit. Now, you know

how that go. I shot up more dope

than any one b*tch could get. I sold my shack, my Cadillac, the rug from up off my floor. I stole from ma and pa, and I shot up all that dough. My woman cried

and damn near died when I ran up with her mink, but I stayed in my role, and I stole, and I sold

everything but the kitchen sink. Down I fell

to the depths of hell. I had put myself in a cross. My habits got tall,

my money got small, but the deadliest blow of all came when this b*tch

took ill on short notice and could no longer gin. Her head was dead,

her ass was red, the lips on her c*nt

was cold. I figured, what the hell, since the b*tch ain't well,

I'll get me a wife-in-law. Now there's this redhead b*tch

with a whorehouse itch over in Bernie Willis' stable. I call her big mabel, do my best while you convalesce,

get back on your feet again. "Like hell," she cried. "I'll see you dead

before I see you go. "May the black coach of sorrow

pick your ass up tomorrow "if you walk beyond that door. "Now, I ruined my health

and a bid for wealth "so that you

could have your bed. "But you done

went dopehead-- "shot up all of that bread. "Now, you talking

that stable sh*t? "But you see,

I'm wise to the lines "that you pimps

drop on the frails "and the games

you try to play, "and if this sh*t

don't cease like motherf***er, "I'm calling the po-lice. Have them carry

your ass away." Well, I just kept on

fixing my sh*t because I was aiming to split. This is what I said. Mike:

What did you say? "B*tch, you ain't no lady. "You know the game,

but they call it cop and blow. "You done had your run,

and now you're done. "I'm going to find me

another ho. "Now, wouldn't I look silly

with a broke-down filly on a track that

was way too fast?" Mike: Mm-hmm. "Besides, a b*tch ain't sh*t

without a good man's wit, "and your thoroughbred

days are past. "No, I'll put you in charge

of my whorehouse at large, "give some girls the rule. "But you sound like hell "talking about

putting me in jail, "you must be

a goddamn fool, b*tch. "Step aside. Let me slide. Hurry up. Get off my back." "I'm going to find me

another young woman who can run

the real fast track." Now I lean on my back

in another ho's shack running down my pedigree. We heard a tremendous thunder

that shook the door under, and I'm wondering

who in the f*** that could be. Just then a policeman walked in with a great big grin

fixed in a deadly expression. Wants to know,

"your name rock?" "Pimping rock." "Hurry up.

Sign this confession." "That's him," she cried, swinging her arms

in the deepest of glee. "That's the dirty son of a b*tch

with the con man pitch that made a stinking ho

out of me." Just then, a deadly blow

knocked me to the floor, and I fell into a black repose. When I awoke, my jaw was broke. Blood was all over my clothes. And that's the tale that I tell

from my prison cell, sitting here on my bed. Murder one, possession of a gun, and, yeah, I shot that

stinking b*tch dead. [Gunshots] Torch: I'm really

sick, Mike. You got

to help me. Mike, I'm really

f***ing sick, man. You got to just let me

have a little taste. No way, man. No way I can let you

have any of that sh*t. I just need

a little bit, man. That's all.

I just need a little bit. Sorry. You got to

excuse me, bro, but I can't let you

do that. All right? I'm going

to be sick. Hey. Come on.

Billy? Billy. You ok? Huh?

You ok, bro? You all right? Oh, sh*t. [Coughing] Shh. Motherf***er, let me

have a little bit, man. I just need

a little bit. Come on, man.

I need a little bit. Come on. I don't fix soon,

I'm going to f***ing die. Come on. Come on.

Come on. Don't say that. You ain't

going to die. He's going to wish

he was dead if he don't

get straight. It still don't

make no sense in putting that sh*t

in his veins, Tony. He ain't going

to get better no time soon

without it. Torch, when's the last

time you fixed? Yesterday. Come on, Mike.

I'm f***ing sick, man. Come on. Man, why

I got to have a dopesick junkie

for a brother? Huh? You don't want

him to be sick? Let him fix. [Moaning] Ok. Ok. Go ahead.

Com mierda. Put that f***ing

poison in your body. Why the f***

should I care? Come on. Sit over here. Thanks, bro. Don't call me that. Sh-- I'm sorry, bro. Hey, don't

call me that. Aah!

Mike! You heard

what I said? Don't you ever

call me that as long as you live. Aah! Mike! First my sister.

Now this f***ing sh*t? Put your head

out the window, man. You need to chill. You're only

my half brother anyway. I don't even know why I thought that sh*t

meant anything to me. Get the f*** out. F***. You got your

works, baby? Yeah, in my jacket. All right. [Moans] F***. You guys got

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