Written by Another criminal series. Yeah, but this will last longer.
Rating system real quick:
GFPS (Good for preschoolers)
FTOC (For the older children)
FTMC (For the mature children)
AL12 (At least 12)
This is FTMC.
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“Charlie Jefford. You’re a 31-year-old man, you’ve got barely over three thousand dollars to your name, and you leave your apartment once every two weeks. Pathetic you are. Anyways, you need a job. You dropped out of high school at 15. You don’t have a Degree. You didn’t go to college. Heh, your only job opportunity would probably be flipping patties at Dan’s Burgers. Get out of my sight, you aren’t working here.” The job recruiter said to Charlie.
“Eh, you’re too stupid for my liking, anyways,” Charlie replied as he walked out of the door.
Getting in his car, he turned on the radio.
“Gangs are robbing banks all over Goldville. It’s getting so hectic that even the cops can’t do anything about it. We’ll be back with more information.” Charlie listened intently, wanting more money.
He turned off the radio, dismissing the idea temporarily and clearing his mind. Suddenly, he got the idea to call one of his old friends who was in a gang.
Pulling over in a parking lot, he called the old number.
“Yo yo yo, what good, man?” The friend said.
“Hey Marty, I’m doing fine. You wanna start a gang? Station up at Brockton, get some good money. What do you think?” Charlie asked.
“Woah, woah, woah. It’s been 5 years since I was in a gang. I haven’t used a gun in months. However, I’ll train up and join. But don’t expect me to be a gunslinger. I do have a friend that could be interested, though. His name is Anton, he’s a Jamacian immigrant. Facing some hardships, he ain’t got no job. He’s probably down for it. Most of the time, he’s at Jimmy’s motel living it up, but if you don’t find him there, go to the old basketball court we used to play on.” Marty replied.
“Hey man, thanks. I’ll hit Anton up.” Charlie responded, happy.
“Good, good, you’re welcome. Don’t challenge him to a game though. He’ll smoke you. Last time I checked, you don’t play more, and there ain’t a lot of white boys in the NBA!” Marty said hysterically.
“Alright, well, I’ll come over later. Thanks, man. Bye.” Charlie said, hanging up.
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well, it was short, but it will get better
anyways goobay
