Falice 2

Plead the Fifth

[Another stand alone one shot placed here instead]
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The Serpent King is FP Jones's biggest enemy. It didn't help that said southside royalty was also his own father, Forsythe Pendleton Jones; the man he is unfortunately named after.

Unlike his father, he wishes to take no part in the Southside Serpents. This decision often resulted in their ongoing feud. Forsythe couldn't get through to his son, and vice versa.

Forsythe slams his son up against the wall. FP turns his face away from him; he hates the stench of hard liquor that his father always reeks of. His father forces him to look at him by taking his chin into his hand.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

"I'm not going to do it." FP refuses his same demand over and over again. It's no different than before.

"You're expected to go through your initiation whether you like it or not. You have to learn to take over for me one day."

"I'm not going to let you groom me into being your second in command," FP shakes his head. "I don't care about the damn fucking mantle. I'm not going to be one of you! You can give me your stupid name for all I care, but I'm not going to become you!"

"Are you talking back to me, boy?"

"Let me go."

Forsythe pins him down on the table. He eyes FP's Bulldogs jacket on the chair.

FP had come home from football practice not too long ago. With their championship game coming up, he has put a lot of effort in keeping up his winning streak. He single-handedly lead the team to victory against the Raven Baxters last week. He has a lot to offer on the field.

He practiced every day after school. He wants to impress the scouts; he was told they would be at the playoffs for him. He has a real, good shot at pursuing scholarships. His coach has set up meetings with college recruiters left and right, but he's never mentioned a word of this to his father. He is certain that the second the man finds out, he will do everything in his power to talk him out of it -- rather, ruin it for him by any means necessary to keep his options limited.

Forsythe grabs it and holds it above him. "This? This is what you want?" He venomously spits. "This isn't meant for you. I raised you as a southsider. You're a Serpent by blood. The least you can do is honor our lineage."

"Since when are you father of the year?"

"You're going through with the initiation or you're dead to me!"

"Lucky for you, I'm already halfway there for option two!"

"Even that damn whore of yours, what's her name?" Forsythe thinks out loud. "Smithy, yeah, yeah that smart mouth blondie. She brings us more honor than you ever could. It's too bad she doesn't rub it off on you."

FP glares at him. "What did you call her?"

Forsythe stifles a laugh. It's just like him to get under his skin. "It pisses you off, don't it? Well, you've pissed me off for ages! It's either you honor our family or don't consider yourself a Jones."

"I don't want to be a Jones," FP challenges.

He quickly learns that it was a mistake to refuse it this time. A line was crossed, farther than it ever has before.

One thing lead to another and FP was on the living room floor feebly trying to crawl away from the man. Forsythe crouches down to his son's level. He balls his collar in his bruised hand. He'd beaten him plentiful.

FP didn't put up a fight. It was a losing game when it came to his father. He believed that just letting his father get all of his anger out on him would make it end faster. There was no use in defending himself.