Urban Justice Page #2

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he was a good guy, man.

l mean.... l don't know,

l gots to go, man.

Hey, man, look,

l'm sorry about Max, man.

Yeah, me too.

So, what are you thinking?

-lt's Gary.

-Gary doesn't have the balls.

Think about it. Now, his brother lsaiah

is trying to work his way up.

Killing Max could have been

his ticket.

-Let's take him down, then.

-Timing's not right.

We'll take him down

when we take down Armand.

Knock, knock, nigga.

What the f***'s your b*tch ass

doing off in here?

Looks like your luck just ran out.

You know what, man?

Luck is a funny motherfucking thing.

Oh, why's that?

Luck can change in the blink

of a motherfucking eye.

You're a badass white boy, huh?

Think you bad, huh?

Come on, motherf***er. You--

Motherf***er, you wanna tell me

who killed my son?

Man, l don't know sh*t.

You don't know sh*t, huh?

-Who killed my son?

-Nigga, f*** you.

l'm gonna be doing

the f***ing now.

-Man, f*** y'all.

-What'd you say?

F*** you. l don't know sh*t.

Sh*t! Man, in my f***ing ear.

-F***. l'm gonna smoke your ass.

-l'm gonna ask you one more time.

Hey, all right, look.

l'll get you some knowledge, all right?

-Shot my f***ing ear off.

-Who killed my son?

-lt wasn't who you think it is, all right?

-lt ain't who l think? What's that mean?

-Nigga, it wasn't us.

-Sh*t. You motherf***er...

...l'm gonna get your ass.

B*tch, you're dead, b*tch.

l got nothing but time for you.

Don't forget that.

You shot my f***ing ear.

Oh, f***.

l'm gonna get your f***ing ass.

Oh, sh*t.

Benny, what's your problem?

Armand, why are we playing

these games?

Well, Benny, l like games.

l've got a game we can play.

lt's got one question:

Why are you a snitch?

-No, l'm not a snitch.

-That ain't what l heard.

You should be working for CNN

the way you put my business out.

Armand, look at what l gave you.

There's a major deal

going down...

...and l risked my life to bring you

this information because l respect you.

Because l wanna do business

with you.

l wanna do business

with you too, Benny.

-Let me cut this cheque for you.

-Thank you.

You should know

nigga's cheque's gonna bounce.

What the f*** are you doing?

Oh, my bad.

l didn't like the way he smelled.

All right, look.

l've got most of the information

on the deal he was brokering.

-l'll keep you informed.

-Oh, the f*** you will.

You let me know when and where,

me and my boys will be there.

Like l said,

l will keep you informed.

What the hell

happened to you two?

Man, some big-ass white boy

jumped us.

A white boy.

-What?

-Nigga, are you deaf?

Yeah, man. That nigga is.

Look, some big-ass white boy...

...as in Paul Bunyan motherf***er,

came out of nowhere up in the spot...

...did some kung fu sh*t

on my little homey and me...

...grabbed that nigga's gun

and shot his ear.

-Nigga, please.

-What?

Hey, take it easy, all right?

Just put the gun down. Relax.

Where's Maurice and Anthony?

Man, them niggas gone, man.

He smoked both them fools.

-One dude?

-Yeah.

One dude smoked

two of my motherfuckers?

What are y'all, b*tches?

Do l have to buy y'all dresses?

You niggas want miniskirts, tutus?

Dip your motherfucking ass in olive oil

and put you in roller skates, b*tch?

Dude said his name

was like Ballister...

-...or Bollister or some sh*t--

-Ballister did this to you?

Yeah, that's that nigga, right.

Yeah, Ballister.

F***. The guy

l was telling you about.

You knew this motherf***er

was gonna do sh*t like this?

l got a lot of money

on this deal, partner.

Ain't got time for this bullshit.

-Clean that motherf***er up.

-Come on, man.

Yeah, l can see

what you're thinking, Benny.

You had deceit on your mind.

Think you're gonna take

a brother down?

Remember Scarface,

motherf***er?

'' Look at you now.

Look at you now, you f***.''

So it must feel good

to be able to put to use...

...those lessons

you learned in the military.

Yeah, well, l really wasn't

in the military.

You're not a salesman, Simon.

And you're not a cop. And someone

taught you how to fight like that.

No, no, no. All the fighting stuff,

l got that off home videos.

Whatever.

-Listen, could l ask you a question?

-Shoot.

Those bangers that were here,

what gang are they with?

Hyde Park.

They're Chivo's boys.

Chivo had something to do

with your son's murder?

l'll let you know.

-Hello.

-Hello, this is Simon.

Simon? Yeah....

Yeah, Max spoke very fondly

about you.

l saw you at the funeral.

l wanted to come over

and pay my condolences...

...but l just wasn't quite

in the mood, sorry.

l understand.

l wanted to see if the police

had been by to interview you...

...and whether or not they returned

any of Max's property, or....

They were more interested

in any files or paperwork...

...that he might have

brought home.

Did Max have anything

on a computer, by any chance?

Yeah, but the police took it.

Well, listen,

l just want you to know one thing.

l will find who did this to my son.

And if you need anything,

you call me, you hear?

All right, babe.

-Shoot it.

-Defence.

Come on, man,

Don't let them score again.

Man.

Pass the ball, man.

Make some shots, l could dish it

to you. You playing with no D on it.

They done got three points, man.

lt's 9-7. You wanna win this or what?

-You crazy?

-We need to talk.

Look around you, fool.

You see all those eyes on us?

Any of them see me get in that car,

l'm dead. You feel me?

Well, look, l'll just pretend like

l'm a policeman. You know?

You ain't no cop,

that's for sure, man.

Heard what happened

to them boys.

News in the 'hood travels fast,

don't it, now?

Look, man, l need your help.

-What's up, partner?

-lt's good, homes.

What kind of help?

l need you to help me find

who killed my son.

Ain't no way nobody ever gonna find

his killer, man, that's for damn sure.

You have to tell me what you know.

What you gonna do

if you find the shooter, huh?

l'm gonna kill him.

l don't care who ordered the hit.

l don't care

whose business is what.

l just wanna know

who killed my son.

lt's not looking good for me, man.

Get in the car.

All right, showtime.

What do you know?

Man, look, man, there's this Mexican

called El Chivo, all right?

-The goat?

-Yeah.

He runs the Hyde Park Gang.

Them motherfuckers there.

You think this guy

might have pulled the trigger?

Maybe.

l mean, maybe he had

somebody pull a drive-by.

Well, like l said, l don't really care

about who ordered it or anything.

l just want the shooter.

Well, if it came from Chivo,

he would know who did it.

You have any idea

why he might want my son dead?

Max, man.... Look, he hit

them bookie joints hard, man.

Chivo, he runs most of them.

You know how it is, man.

You start f***ing with a man's money,

you could end up dead.

Where can l find this guy?

He got a club on Slauson

called Anodyne, all right?

He's there most nights.

All right, you did good, man.

l'll see you soon, you hear?

Thank you.

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