Yolo 2: A Beautiful Death

by Sa'id Salaam

  “Just wanted to let you know you had a hole in your head.”

  “A hole in my what?” he shot back and got shot.

  “Your head,” Killa giggled and walked away.

  “Take your clothes off, all of them. Socks. Panties, everything,” Cheese ordered once they got inside.

  Yolo smiled as she pulled off her backpack and pulled out her weapons of mass destruction. She popped in her fangs and raised the knives.

  “I’m ready,” Yolo sang causing Cheese to look up from his undressing. All he had on was socks and an erection, that’s a fucked up way to die.

  “Fuck you got going on?” he asked as if it were some kind of game. He got the point when she stuck the point of one of the knives into his beer belly. “Bitch!”

  “Your mama,” she giggled and ducked a blow. Every time he swung at her she dipped, ducked, and stuck him.

  Blood covered the room from floor to ceiling as the battle raged on. Cheese was losing blood and steam but so was Yolo. The tough girl underestimated the effect of giving birth and was exhausted. Her foot slipped in a blood puddle and Cheese was able to catch her.

  “Now you die bitch!” he screamed as he lifted her by her throat. Her wind was cut off instantly from the pressure. In a panic, she dropped the knives and tried to peel the death grip from her neck.

  Yolo kicked and clawed but to no avail. Cheese understood his wounds were fatal and planned to take her with him. Her hearing dimmed followed by her vision. Everything began to fade and she knew she was dying. Her babies popped in her mind as her life flashed before her. Somewhere in the distance, a gun fired. She wasn’t sure what it had to do with until Cheese released his death grip. Down they went with him landing on top.

  “Fucking hard headed!” Killa grumbled as he kicked the dead man off Yolo. He tossed her over his shoulder and whisked her away.

  Yolo awoke on the drive back to the motel but kept her eyes closed. She strained to comprehend why he saved her. She was dead. Cheese had killed her, so why did he save her?

  Chapter 9

  “Still not talking to me?” Yolo asked with her lip poked out. They were halfway back to LA and he still hadn’t said a word. Even now, he just sucked his teeth without turning his attention from the highway. “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “Take it as a hell no!” he corrected. “Call this Captain dude; let him know we’re on the way.

  “Ok!” she said happily and made the call from Fat’s phone. By now, Fat’s phone was the equivalent to the kiss of death. Killa and Yolo on the phone was like having the Grim Reaper at your front door.

  “It’s them,” Captain whispered when he saw the name on the phone. He dropped it and scurried away so they couldn’t come through the line and get him. His woman just shook her head at the display.

  “It went to voicemail,” Yolo said sounding disappointed.

  “So, leave a message,” he said like it should have been the obvious thing to do.

  “Hey, it’s me, Yolo…”

  “And Killa!” Killa leaned in and added.

  “And Killa; and we’re coming to kill you guys. All of you; ok, bye!” she sang waving like he could see her.

  The two killers had a good laugh once she hung up. The mood in the car lightened allowing for small talk.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you…did you really kill 100 people before you turned 21?” Yolo asked sounding star struck.

  “Nah, that’s a myth. An urban legend,” he admitted breaking her heart. “Actually, I was 22.”

  Yolo cheered, clapped, and then went suddenly somber. Killa was about to ask her what was wrong until he saw for himself. The sign for Cedar Sinai passed overhead reminding them both of what was there.

  “I gotta stop in LA and holla at the big homie. He claims he got something for me,” Killa offered.

  “Cool, I can see my babies while we’re there,” she said.

  He put the blinkers on and merged over for the unscheduled trip. The captain would just have to wait a few more hours to get murdered.

  ****

  “Aw…” Yolo cried when she looked in and saw the twins holding hands in the incubator.

  “Cool,” Killa admitted since he was too cool to saw ‘aw.’

  After an hour of gawking, Killa led Yolo away. Thirty minutes later, they met up with Big Cyke.

  “No…fucking…way!” Yolo exclaimed in stunned disbelief when Cyke demonstrated their new toy.

  “Easy too,” Killa added as he took over the controls to the deadly device. “I’ll take it! How much?”

  “On the house. It’s a gift from the homies down in San Diego. With the Mob gone they can eat again,” Cyke replied. That seemed to be the sentiment all over the country.

  “Can I do it?” Yolo asked bouncing like a 5 year old. Killa twisted his lips to keep from laughing and let her take over the controls.

  “Damn, she rocking that shit better than you! Better than me!” the big homie exclaimed.

  “Yeah, yeah. I guess I’ll let her do the honors then,” Killa admitted. He turned to his longtime friend and exchanged a pound and a hug. “Love you Cyke.”

  “Jihad,” he corrected. “Love you too and remember, laa ilaha illallah!”

  “True dat!” Killa nodded and agreed. Yolo twisted her pretty face to the strange words so he explained. “Nothing has the right to be worshipped except God, alone.

  “True dat,” she smiled and gave Jihad a pound. “I would hug you but my man be getting jealous.”

  “Get in the car!” he barked.

  ****

  “So how long we gotta be out here?” Janice whined as the yacht pulled away from the dock. The woman bitched, moaned, and complained all day everyday but she had some good head, so it was cool.

  “You can leave if you want! Swim your ass back to shore!” The Captain spat. It sounded hard but she heard his voice trembling in fear.

  “I’m cool,” she said wisely. “Want some head?”

  “Fuck kind of question is that? Of course I want some head!” The Captain collapsed the deck chair so she could get to his dick under the big ass belly.

  Janice worked the fat, stubby dick like a pro hoe. She spit, licked, sucked, and gnawed on it like a puppy with a chew toy. The blow had just gotten good when Captain noticed an unidentified flying object. No, not E.T., but a drone.

  The once innocuous hobby craft was retrofitted with a camera and two fully automatic Mac 10s. Each machine pistol held a two hundred and fifty round drum of ammo meaning it could really fuck some shit up.

  “That’s called ‘the flute,’” Yolo said in reference to the technique Janice was using. No sooner than she said it, she switched to the ‘whistle while you work.’ “She must have an app for that.”

  “Damn, I almost hate to interrupt,” Killa said truthfully. “I wouldn’t want to get killed while I’m getting head. Then again…”

  “Remember what I gave you some head?” Yolo said trying to be sexy.

  “No! Anyway, time to say good-bye to The Captain.”

  “What the fuck is that?” the captain asked as it drew closer.

  For a reply, the small aircraft belched a flurry of .45 ACP rounds at them. Janice spit his dick out and stood. She tried to run but got gunned back down. The fat bastard rolled off the lounge chair a split second before Yolo shredded it with another burst of machine gun fire.

  “Fat fucker is pretty fast,” Yolo giggled as she chased the man around the deck.

  “Damn it! Almost had him,” Killa cheered by her side. Holes opened in the deck right on his heels. When the fat man ran out of deck, he leapt off the side. “Oh shit!”

  “Ugh!” The Captain grunted as a slug hit him in his big ass before he hit the water.

  Yolo circled the drone around for the kill. She was just about to hit the trigger until she had a better idea.

  “Is that…” she asked with glee.

  “It is! It is!” Killa cheered at the sight of an approaching dorsal fin. “Tur
n on the recorder!”

  “I’m on it!” she shouted and hit record.

  The shark seemed to smile at the massive meal. He would be forced to share as two more fins appeared. The carnivorous fish snatched chunks off the man filling the water with blood. That attracted more sharks and started a feeding frenzy.

  “That was fun,” Yolo giggled and brought the drone back.

  “It was. Who’s next?”

  Chapter 10

  “Err body talkin’ ‘bout heaven. Heaven, heaven, heaven, err body wanna go to heaven! But heaven ain’t free! Ain’t sh…uh, nothing free!” Pastor Roland Anderson said catching himself before he cursed, again. Last time he referred to the congregation as mutherfuckers. It took a month for them to get over it.

  The good Reverend Roland had a foul mouth to go along with his foul manners. He wasn’t much of a preacher either since he didn’t believe in God. Church was a non-profit cash cow that hid his money laundering service. Black Mob dope boys ran dirty cash through him and it came back crispy clean.

  He was once self-employed until Casper got wind of it. He sent the late, great Grimsley down to Mississippi with an offer he couldn’t refuse. He certainly couldn’t wear his fancy hats if he didn’t have a head. Can’t carry it in your hand because you’re dead.

  “Heaven got money! A whole lot more then y’all moth…than y’all put in the plate last week. How we ‘posed to eat if ain’t sh…eh, nothing on the plate? Now break bread damn it! Damn ain’t a curse either. I seen it in the bible. I think,” he preached.

  “Not that much!” Yolo said a little too loudly for church. She grabbed Killa’s wrists to stop him from dropping a thick roll of cash in the basket. He held it up for a second so the perfidious pastor could peep it.

  “Why not? I’m going to take it back anyway. Over his dead body,” Killa chuckled.

  Yolo winked at the preacher and got his full attention. He turned it up a notch for the new meat. That was one of the perks of being a piss poor pastor. He hit all the women in the congregation at least once. Married, single, young, and old; he ran through them all.

  “What did you do?” Killa wondered when he saw the change in the man’s demeanor.

  “Just put out a lil’ bait and he bit,” she giggled.

  They only half listened as the man strutted like a rooster, whooping and hollering about nothing. He told so many lies about God Killa subconsciously cast a glance up to see if a bolt of lightning was coming. It didn’t, but no matter, he was dying today anyway. And it was going to be brutal.

  “Yes Lawd, I see some new pu…faces in the house. Y’all stand up and introduce y’all selves,” he said looking directly at Yolo. She had just the right amount of cleavage to make Killa invisible.

  “Introduce ya self,” Yolo teased with an elbow to Killa’s rib.

  “Nah,” he replied to her while raising a hand to wave. Yolo huffed and stood to do the honors.

  “Hey y’all! I’m Yolonda and dis my brudda Ki, Ki, um Keith,” Yolo said making it up as she went along. The pastor’s smile broadened hearing the man next to her was her brudda. That’s deep south for brother.

  “Yes Lawd!” he repeated and went back to lying on God. He wrapped up with a prayer and class was dismissed.

  “Wait for it. Wait…for it,” Yolo giggled as they prepared to leave. The preacher was by their side before their first step hit the ground.

  “Nice to meet you Rev, if y’all will excuse me,” Killa begged off and left him alone with the bait.

  “Hey Pastor,” Yolo said ducking her head shyly.

  “Hey ya’ self sweet thing,” he told her breasts. “Y’all just moved to town?”

  “Un uh. We just passing through. We staying at the motor lodge for the night and gone in the mawnin,” she said casting her pretty brown eyes up at him.

  “You look like you in need of some spiritual healing,” he suggested, as he looked her over.

  “What if I’m in need of some dick?” she asked truthfully.

  “That’s what I meant,” he assured her. “I’se here to help.”

  “So, want me to bend over this a here pew and let you do your bizness?” she offered.

  The parasite pastor pondered for a second before answering.

  “Too many people here now. Come back tonight so I can nail your ass to the cross!” he cheered triumphantly.

  ****

  “Did he really say that?” Killa asked incredulously when Yolo returned to the car and filled him in. “Someone needs to nail his blasphemous ass to a cross!”

  “Oh, stop in there,” Yolo ordered pointing her finger.

  “Here? Why?” he asked pulling into the hardware store parking lot.

  “I need a hammer and nails,” she replied wickedly. “So I can nail his ass to a cross.”

  “You’re not going alone,” he said firmly. “Look what happened last time. I had to come in and save your ass.”

  “That was a fluke. I got lightheaded, trust me; I’m fine. I got him, ‘Sides you need to run around town and take care of the rest,” she said in one breath. As much as she appreciated him saving her, she was embarrassed by it. Now she needed redemption, and Pastor was it.

  “I guess,” he conceded. He did want to move on to the next city and kill more people.

  “This will work,” she exclaimed picking up a pneumatic nail gun.

  “So will this,” he said grabbing an axe.

  It was going to be a messy night. No, not timeline bitching and hating messy, but bone crunching and blood splattering messy. After paying for the killing apparatus, they retreated to the room to get some rest.

  This time Killa insisted on double beds and got it. He was first to shower and climb into bed. A few minutes later Yolo came out in his t-shirt. She walked right past the empty bed and climbed in with him.

  “A-yo, do you mind” Killa complained.

  “Not at all,” she giggled and snuggled up close. Killa shook his head and closed his eyes.

  The alarm of Killa’s phone alerted them from their sleep. The clock read 9 pm. It was time to kill. Both killers rolled out of bed and got dressed. They grabbed the tools of their trade and hit the road. The plan was to drop her off back at the church while he went to murder the barber, the baker, and the candlestick maker. Yup, he was going to get it too. He came up with a way to move coke in the candles and was about to get snuffed out.

  ****

  “Lawd, Lawd, Lawd!” Reverend Anderson moaned when Yolo sashayed into the church.

  “Can you please stop saying that?” she winced. His constant taking of the Lord’s name in vain hurt her soul.

  “Ok?” he replied curiously. He didn’t believe anyway, so it didn’t matter to him. “What’s in the bag?”

  “This…” she said pulling out the nail gun. “…is a nail gun.”

  “Huh?” he asked and got a nail driven right into his forehead. “Ow!”

  “Ow is right,” Yolo laughed and put one in his knee. He realized things weren’t going well and turned to run. That didn’t go well either with a nail in his knee.

  “W, w, wa, wait!” he pleaded holding up his hands and getting shot in them.

  “N, n, n, no I w, w, won’t wa, wa, wait,” she taunted and put another nail in him. They weren’t fatal, but they hurt badly. “Now get against the wall and put your hands up!”

  “Yeow!” he screeched as he complied and got nailed to the wall. The large cross over the pulpit was too high so that would have to do.

  Yolo ran nails through his pants and shirt as well as his palms. His screams reached the high heavens when she put a nail in his bunions. She nailed his feet to the floor right through his wing tips.

  “Ok, ok, you win,” he panted in defeat. “The money is in my office. The b, b, black satchel under my desk.”

  “Money?” Yolo inquired raising one eyebrow curiously.

  “Yeah, tell Big Rock I’m sorry. It’s all there, one million.”

  “I’ll be right back,” she
said and went to check out his claim.

  Sure enough, one million dollars in neat stacks were loaded in a bag. Yolo scooped it up and turned to leave. Something caught her eye on the way out bringing a smile to her face. She skipped happily over to the gas line and disconnected it.

  “S, s, so w, we good?” Anderson asked hopefully when she came back with the bag.

  “I am,” she laughed and headed for the door. She walked out and hopped in his car and called Killa.

  “I’m…a little…busy right…now,” Killa said over the ear piercing screams. Getting chopped up with an axe while still alive is obviously painful.

  “Ok, I was calling to let you know I got a ride. The preacher let me use his,” she said before being cut off by the thunderous roar of the church exploding.

  “What the hell was that?” he quizzed.

  “The preacher. See you at the room.”

  ****

  “Honey you’re home,” Yolo sang as the door opened. In walked Killa covered in blood. The blood of three different men. “Oh my.”

  “Oh my is right,” he muttered heading straight to the bathroom. Yolo jumped up and followed him.

  “I got money,” she smiled, and then smiled brightly when he peeled off the bloody shirt.

  “Keep it,” he blurted pulling off the pants and boxers at the same time.

  “It’s a lot!” she cheered watching his dick dangle when he moved. “A whole mil…”

  “Keep it,” he repeated and stepped inside the shower. He flinched from the burst of cold water then adjusted the temperature.

  Yolo twisted her lips in thought trying to figure out why he would give her a million dollars. Was he going to kill her and take it back just like the money he put in the collection plate? She shook the thought out of her head. She quickly stripped and stepped inside the shower behind him.

  “What are you doing?” he barked when she pulled the washcloth away.

  “Helping,” she replied and began washing him. Blood swirled down the drain as she washed it away. “Turn!”