Yolo 2: A Beautiful Death

by Sa'id Salaam

  The both dropped the now worthless phones where they stood and got back in their vehicles. An hour later, they both arrived back at JFK airport. They arrived back at the gate and found Doc still sleeping. It would be a long nap for the dead man.

  “Just tell me who and where?” Killa growled.

  “The Black Mob is who and they’re everywhere. Way too many for you to handle by yourself. They’ll never stop until we’re both dead. They killed the only person I had left,” Yolo pouted.

  “I’m not letting them get away with this,” he vowed. “Whatever I have to do, they are dying. Every city, every member.”

  “Well, protect me until I have this baby. Our…baby. I know all the players. Know how they move and where they lay their heads. You need me,” she reasoned.

  Killa pondered. He could only shake his head when he realized she was right. One can’t go gunning for the mob half-cocked. “Every member in every city?”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Yolo sang, pranced, and cheered. Passerby’s smiled warmly at the vibrant old lady. “Hells yeah! Me and you! Killa and Yolo! Let’s give these fucks a beautiful death!”

  “Whatever, come on,” Killa said like a grumpy old man and turned to leave.

  “Where are we going?” Yolo asked when he led her to the ticket counter.

  “First stop, ATL. I gotta get guns. Lots and lots of guns.”

  “Ok, but I gotta get something from my truck,” she pleaded.

  “Leave it. We’ll get another one when we get down south,” Killa declined.

  “We can’t, they’re one of a kind. The person that made them um…well, he died.”

  “You killed him didn’t you,” Killa twisted his lips and cocked his head.

  “Ok, see, what had happen was…”

  “Come on, we gotta hurry. The flight boards soon,” he said cutting her off. He walked so briskly towards the parking deck she practically had to run to keep up.

  “Hey! Slow down buddy. You got your mom running,” a Good Samaritan protested as they walked. Killa glanced at his watch to see if he had enough time to kick his ass.

  “Mind your business faggot,” Yolo said pushing Killa along. It was her turn to lead once they got outside. She led the way to her SUV and hit the remote locks when they got close.

  Yolo opened the door and pulled the old lady dress over her head. Killa shot a glance at her ass when she leaned into the truck. She grabbed what she came for, popped them in, then spun around, and cheesed.

  “The fuck?” he grimaced at the platinum fangs. “Why doesn’t that surprise me? Come on.”

  “Wait! One more thing,” she protested and went back into her vehicle.

  This time Killa deliberately turned his head so he wouldn’t look at her ass. She pulled her dreadlocked wig on and twirled around.

  “Mi now ready to get ‘pon di plone.”

  Two hours later the plane landed in Atlanta. Killa hadn’t noticed he’d gone to sleep until he woke up with Yolo on his shoulder. He couldn’t help notice how peaceful and calm she looked. If someone were to see her at that moment, they wouldn’t believe she was the vicious murderer that she was. Killa knew though, knew all too well.

  “Get up!” he barked and nudged her off his shoulder.

  “Huh? Oh,” she replied in confusion from being snatched from her slumber. She practically had to run to keep up as he rushed through the terminal.

  A well-placed call ahead had a rental car waiting for their arrival. Bigs also rented a hotel room for him but forgot his special instruction.

  “So, who runs the Mob in Atlanta? He’s the first to go,” Killa asked as they rode along 285.

  “Big Bang, he’s a real killer,” Yolo replied cracking them both up. He might have been a killer but was a Girl Scout compared to the occupants of the car. “A real show off. Loves to floss, always in the limelight.”

  “Then that’s how he’s going to die…in the limelight,” he replied.

  “Actually The Limelight is a club…but, that works too,” Yolo giggled girlishly. “I’m gonna stick out like a sore thumb with this,” she said rubbing her belly.

  “Nah, you won’t. You’re not going. First kill is on me. I called it.”

  ****

  “Sup Killa, who dis?” Bigs wondered when he opened the door and saw Yolo standing next to Killa. His eyes zeroed in on her round belly. Dudes don’t tote pregnant girls around unless…

  “Sup yo,” Killa replied in defeat. “This is…”

  “Yolo,” Yolo spoke up before he could come up with a fake name.

  “Well hello Yo…the Yolo? The craz…eh…thee Yolo?” the big man shuddered in fear.

  “I prefer Lovely Little Lunatic over crazy bitch, but yes, I am she,” she sang quite pleased with herself.

  “And…” Shawn grimaced at her baby bump.

  “His,” she replied and hooked her arm under Killa’s.

  “Get off me,” Killa grumbled and pulled away.

  Big Shawn led them straight into the showroom since that’s what they were there for. He waited for the usual reaction people gave when entering the showroom but didn’t get it. Yolo was no stranger to guns and ammo.

  “Cool,” was as excited as she got when she saw the boxes of grenades. She picked two up and juggled them while Killa toyed with the laser sight on a pistol.

  The empty table that served as a shopping cart was slowly filled with murderous devices. Guns, bombs, knives, scopes, and silencers were added. They were almost done when one final object caught Killa’s eye.

  “What’s this?” he asked holding it up.

  “Um…a hack saw? You know, for cutting metal. I forgot the combination to a lock and had to cut it off,” he explained. He frowned when Yolo and Killa smiled brightly at each other. “What?”

  “Big Rock!” they answered together.

  “Saving the best for l, l, last,” Yolo giggled.

  “What’s up with this Big Bang cat?” Killa asked ready to mark the mark off his list.

  “Nothing. He’s dead. Word is he and every other Black Mob leader got killed at a meeting. Fat runs the show in the A now,” Bigs explained.

  Sometimes people are called by nicknames that don’t really fit. A six foot three inch 280-pound dude is called Tiny. Or a chick goes by Precious and she’s really worthless. This was not one of those times.

  Fat was a fat motherfucker. The five foot five inch man tipped the scales at almost 400 pounds. His legs were actually bowed under the pressure of all that weight. He breathed with loud gurgling sounds from all the phlegm and fat in his throat. Still, he was a dangerous man who would rather have you killed than wonder if you could be trusted or not. Who’s more trustworthy than a dead man? They’re not saying shit.

  “He’s the opposite of Bang. An introvert,” Yolo stated.

  “Well that changes the dynamics. I’ll take some of that,” Killa said pointing at a box of plastic explosives. “Time to bake ol’ Fat a cake.”

  “Cash or charge?” Bigs wanted to know of the twenty thousand dollar total. He handed over the card key to their hotel room.

  “I’ll transfer it later. I need to hit the room and get a shower and a nap,” Killa replied and hit the door. Yolo smiled and waved as she left behind him.

  A short drive later, they arrived at an extended stay hotel. It was filled with visiting workers and other professional transient families. The innocuous couple would fit right in.

  “We’ll head out to get clothes and other stuff when I wake up,” Killa said over his shoulder as he led the way to the room.

  “Ok babe,” Yolo said happily.

  Killa stopped dead in his tracks at ‘babe’ to protest, but blew it off and continued walking.

  “Here we are,” he announced opening the door. “Oh no!”

  “Oh yes!” Yolo cheered at the lone bed that made him sad.

  Killa was too tired to protest so didn’t. Instead, he kicked his shoes off and climbed on the bed. He yawned once, blinked twice, and fell
fast asleep. Yolo climbed on the bed and joined him in slumber land.

  Chapter 5

  It doesn’t matter what position a man and woman go to sleep in in the same bed because they will always wake up cuddled up. They could start off on opposite sides but come morning she’ll be snuggled up in his arms. It’s only natural since men are the protectors and maintainers of women. This is also how a lot of blurred lines get crossed. Go to sleep in the friend zone and be lovers by dawn.

  Not Killa though, he detested Yolo. He was the first to wake and found her round ass pressed up against his morning wood. To make matters worse, his arm was draped protectively over her with his hand on her belly. He could feel the baby moving around inside.

  “Get off me,” Killa muttered and rolled away. He planted his feet on the floor and got up.

  “Man,” Yolo pouted missing the embrace instantly. This was the first time she had ever spent the night with a man. He was also the only man she had sex with, the result of which was currently moving around inside of her belly.

  Yolo looked into the mirror facing the bathroom and watched him pee. He then stripped and stepped into the shower. She took the opportunity to relieve her bladder as well.

  “Get out!” Killa shouted from under the steamy water.

  “I gotta pee,” she replied and did just that. “I’ll go get us some food, ok babe?”

  “Whatever. Just don’t flush the toi…ow!” he howled as the water turned ice cold from her flush.

  “Oops, sorry,” she giggled. She watched his silhouette through the flimsy shower curtain as she washed her hands.

  “Just don’t get hit by a car, or fall off a cliff, or eaten by a lion,” Killa called behind her as she left the room.

  ****

  “What to get? What to get?” Yolo pondered as she cruised the aisles of the local grocery store. It would be the first meal she cooked for her man and wanted it to be special. In the end, she filled the basket with typical breakfast food.

  Killa was on the bed talking on the phone when Yolo returned to the room.

  “Honey, I’m home,” she sang with a giggle.

  Killa rolled his eyes and kept on talking. Yolo blew him a kiss and went into the kitchenette area and got to work.

  “Bigs came through!” Killa announced cheerfully when he hung up. “We got a homeboy who can get me next to this Fat bastard.”

  “That’s great, honey,” she sang and cracked an egg into a bowl. Half the shell fell in and she fished it out with her fingers.

  “You sure you know what you’re doing?” he wanted to know.

  “Yes! I’m an excellent cook!” she defended herself.

  “Is that right? What’s your best dish?” Killa asked twisting his lips.

  “Bab…um…eggs!” Yolo lied. Her best dish was broiled baby, or baby kabobs, or baby back ribs, or baby burgers…

  A few minutes later, she presented a passable plate of scrambled eggs, turkey bacon, and hash browns. She tried to put a little switch in her ass as she went to the bathroom. It was wasted because Killa dug into his food. He paid her no attention, but she didn’t believe him. She ducked under the shower and got clean.

  “I need some clothes,” Yolo announced wet and naked as she emerged from the bathroom. Killa was still eating and almost choked when he looked up.

  “Huh?” he asked confused by her firm thighs. He zeroed in on her crotch with a couple days growth of hair. Then her round belly with a dark line running from her navel to her box. Her breasts were full and heavy.

  Lunatic or not, she was lovely.

  “Put some clothes on,” he barked from embarrassment.

  “That’s what I said. I don’t have none,” she whined.

  “Well, put on what you had and let’s hit the store!”

  “Ok!” she clapped then bent over to pick up her pants since she had his full attention.

  ****

  “You like this, bae?” Yolo asked holding a maternity shirt up for his approval.

  “Stop calling me bae!” he barked in reply.

  “Shame on you! That’s no way to treat your girlfriend,” an old lady scolded. Yolo stifled a laugh and pretended to be hurt.

  “She’s not my…forget it!” he growled and marched off to the men’s department.

  He collected socks and drawers while she racked up on panties and bras. They would hit the mall later for clothing. The next stop was the hygiene aisle to get some toiletries. Then it was on to Big Shawn’s apartment.

  “Come on in,” Bigs said opening the door and stepping aside so they could enter. The man inside stood up to be introduced.

  “I’ll just go…” Yolo mumbled and rushed into the showroom. She wasn’t buying but wanted to fondle the weapons.

  “Killa this is Ramel. Ra, Killa,” Bigs introduced the two men to each other.

  “Heard a lot about you,” Ra said shaking the legend’s hand.

  “Can’t believe everything you here,” Killa said modestly, seeking to deflect the praise.

  “Heard you wiped out a whole Jamaican posse at a funeral!” he said wide eyed like a child meeting his hero in person. Killa was a super hero to kids in New York City. They didn’t play Batman, and fuck Spiderman. Everyone wanted to be Killa.

  “Well…yeah, I did do that,” he admitted as they sat.

  Big Shawn sparked a blunt and passed some cold beer around. The conversation ranged from who was the best rapper to which singer had the fattest ass. Once that was settled, they got down to business. Bigs offered Ra ten grand on Killa’s behalf to help with the hit. Ten grand he eagerly accepted.

  “Our boy Fat is having a cookout at his crib. The whole crew will be there,” Shawn relayed.

  “One shot, one kill,” Killa said happily. His smile dissipated instantly as Yolo returned and sat next to him.

  “Like I told Bigs, I can get us in but I don’t know about one shot. There will be like a hunned of them!” Ra added.

  “Ever hear of Jim Jones?” Yolo tossed in tentatively.

  “The rapper?” Ra scrunched his face. “They just be rapping, them dudes ain’t killers!”

  “Nah, not the rapper the imposter, the false prophet!” Killa corrected happily.

  “Georgetown, Guyana,” Bigs added as he caught on too.

  Ra was too young to remember but old enough to Google. The room fell silent as he read up. A slow smile and nod formed as he caught up. “Don’t drink the Kool-Aid!”

  “Or…champagne,” Yolo giggled and filled them in on her first hit. She put Treble and his whole crew down for dirt naps with one bottle of bubbly.

  ****

  “You look nice, babe!” Yolo gushed when Killa came out of the bathroom dressed. He looked quite dapper in the linen suit and loafers.

  “Stop…calling…me…babe!” he insisted once more.

  “Ok babe,” she said under her breath and giggled. “Wish I could come. I wanna kill too!”

  “I’ll bring you a plate and some champagne,” he replied and cracked up.

  “Ha ha, you can bring me some chicken…for the baby,” she threw in and wiped the sarcastic smile off his face.

  “Yeah,” he remarked and left. Killa drove the rental car and met Ramel downtown. He got in and rode with him to Fat’s large house in Henry County.

  “You got that?” Killa asked Ra as he sped along the highway.

  “That killa! It’s in the glove box,” he laughed.

  “Nice!” he remarked as he carefully lifted out four ounces of fruity colored weed. “You should have saved some for us.”

  “Ta-dah!” Ra proclaimed and whipped out a neatly rolled blunt.

  They couldn’t smoke the pretty buds in the bag because they were poisoned. The world became a happier place with every toke of the potent plant. By the time they reached Fat’s estate, they were both wearing goofy grins and cracking on each other.

  “My wife would love that,” Ra said pulling next to a convertible Audi.

  “Give it to her then. He w
on’t be driving it after today,” Killa assured him. “None of them will.”

  “Hmm,” Ramel hummed. All the men and women in attendance wore diamond, gold, and platinum and had thousands of dollars in cash on their persons.

  “Fifty-fifty. To the victors goes the spoils,” Killa said reading his mind.

  The Black Mob associates and their women guests totaled just under a hundred people. Luckily, it wasn’t catered because Killa didn’t leave witnesses.

  “Sup Ra,” Oz greeted and gave Ramel a pound.

  “Chillin’, this my man…”

  “Call me X,” Killa interjected. He didn’t want him to slip up and alert them to his presence.

  “Where’s Fat?” Ra asked and followed the directions into the den.

  “My kind of cookout,” Killa announced seeing a girl knelt before the fat man sucking his fat stubby dick.

  “Want me to come back?” Ramel asked not wanting to interfere with his blowjob. That’s just plain rude.

  “Nah, you cool.”

  “This my man X. Just came down from up top. He gon’ be working with me.

  “Sup X?” Fat greeted in between loud breaths sounding like Darth Vader.

  “Yo, I brought some killa weed,” Killa said holding it up.

  “Say lil’ Lip, roll that up and pass it around,” the host ordered.

  “He’s not going to make it,” Killa laughed as Lip rolled blunt after blunt of weed. Handling it bare handed and licking cigars exposed him to the deadly cyanide mixed in.

  Fat came with a grunt and held the woman in place, giving her no choice but to swallow. Once he finished he let her up wearing a bitter frown from the bitter semen.

  “Give her one, she earned it,” Fat laughed. The girl took a blunt and shot Killa a flirtatious glance as she passed.

  “Yeah right,” he laughed at her back.

  One by one the blunts were passed around. Lip fell face first and died on the spot.

  “You ain’t smoking?” Ra offered holding out a blunt.