Wrong Game, Right Player (BoyxBoy)

13

Tyrell
(Saturday morning)

"Ion fuck witchu." I said to Bri over the phone.

"Why?" Bri asks, but snorts at the same time. She knows exactly why I don't fuck wit her.

"You stay telling my business." I respond.

"Ok that's true, but you gotta give me props for not saying a word about your situationship with C.K." She said, "Quan and Ta'Leah figured that out for themselves."

"Ight, so yo mouth size reduced by 0.2%." I conclude.

"Fuck you."

"I already got that covered, cousin."

C.K. comes into the frame. He wraps his arms around my neck before placing his head on top of mine. Bri mugs him.

"Yea I know, you dirty bastard." She responds.

"Yo mama still built like a Henny bottle." Christian said outta nowhere.

I choke on my spit.

"And yo mama's bow-legged ass legs look like the number 12." Bri retorts.

I start coughing. Legs lookin like the number 12?! She outta line-

"Your dad's hairline looks like a lightning bolt." Christian interrupts my thoughts.

"Ayoooo!" I exclaim, "Why yall gettin on yall own flesh and blood like this?!"

"This is nun. We've said worse." Bri tells me.

"Remember 'Grandma Carlton's back goes in like an obtuse angle'?" Christian reminds her.

"Wait-"

Bri laughs, "Oh that was a good one. What about 'Grandma Yvette's spine curves like the letter J'?"

I shake my head, but I can't stop myself from laughing. Not even the grandmas are safe from catching smoke.

"And yall swear I'm the asshole." I said.

"A lil girl called you scary and you told her 'What's scary is the fact yo skin drier than our biscuits'." Bri reminds me.

Christian pulls away from me to gently smack me upside my head. I turn my head and frown at him. "What did I do?" I question.

"Why would you tell a lil girl that?" He asks in a disappointed tone.

"If she wanted somebody to lie to her, she should've took her pansy ass to Chick-fil-a." I shrug.

"Unt unt, what you not gone do, is come for Chick-fil-a." Bri said.

"Yall sandwich ass. Pure ass. They put a soggy piece of chicken in between two buns with one pickle underneath it. Ion know how anybody called yall the GOAT before we dropped our shit." I rant.

"You must've got that "Chick-fil-a" sandwich from the slums." She argues, "That's besides the point. People always gone fuck wit us more cuz we don't got reckless niggas behind the counters."

"That's yall problem," I said, making C.K. snicker. "I wish a bitch built like Mr.Krabs and a nigga shaped like Larry the Lobster would come talkin crazy in my face. My Pleasure, nah more like My Pleasure escorting you the fuck out."

C.K. throws his head back laughing. Bri just stares at me in disbelief. I get paid too little to be putting up with bullshit from customers all week. Popeyes is such a perfect job for me and I'm finna be so sad when I have to part ways with the ghetto establishment.

I actually gotta be caring and considerate as a nurse.

Mane fuck it. If a nigga wit a broken ankle pisses me off, he gotta go. I'm finna send him out into the world without crutches or a wheelchair.