"I should kill you." My sister muttered looking at the cameras from my office.
"Relax." I rolled my eyes.
"Relax? Do you see what that idiot is doing?"
I nodded. "I see. Just relax." I told her.
"He's bagging our product like he's stupid." She hissed.
"It's just weed. Relax." I told her.
I'm the leader of a drug cartel. Not what's expected for a college going girl, I know but in order for me to go to college, I had to pay and drugs help me do that. I run my business from a far along with my sister.
Our names aren't know, just how we like it and the streets are always talking trying to figure out who we are.
The shit people make up and feed to my so called competitors is bogus. No where near what and who we are. I've heard that we are some Dutch man from New York. I've heard that we were a color blind old man that used to work at the mills too and when the idea of a woman came up, they all laughed. Stupid, Stupid Niggas.
"You stupid!"
"No, you're stupid. You give more product in the bag, the more people will come to us. That is mediocre. If we were talking about something heavier I'd tell you to go slap his head off. Where's Dre?" I asked her.
"Doing something with the weighing systems." She waved her hand.
"Okay." I shrugged clicking into the room where he was.
"Ladies you there?" He asked
"Yup." I said.
"Listen, all the weighing systems are gonna be calculated and program to keep a bag that's too heavy or too light into a separate pile. Meaning no one sales. The only thing now that's being bagged by humans is the weed. Get that over to being ground like you wanted and we can have a machine do that too." He said.
I nodded. "Alright. Work on it." I said.
Just about everything within or warehouse is computer operated. None of us have ever been inside the place when the workers were and we only have two.
Early in the morning, one of us goes in the warehouse and leaves a typed message of specific instructions and puts in the machines just the right amount of product to fill baggies how we want it.
We got good workers. They are older and make sure they aren't seen leaving or coming into the facility. Each day we make a letter, it's put in the shredder and when they come back in the morning it's gone. I personally enjoy old people for one reason- they mind their damn business and do what they have to do to leave.
We lock and unlock the doors when we are ready from where ever were at so no way the place can be broken into.
"I'm tired." I sighed.
"I know you are." She said and looked down at my homework in front of me.
I looked up at the television and then the computer screen.
"This should be the last of it." I told her.
Both of them took their cloves off and put their hands up once they were done and I smiled.
Naomi got on the computer and wrote a message so that they could see it that read that they did a good job and they could go.
