Reaching the liquor store, the group waltzes inside to survey the selection. Jamal waves to the man at the counter.
Wassup Maurice! Ain’t seen you fo’ a while big dog!
<Yo Jamal. Jus’ gettin’ on by, same as always.
Yea mane, dem bills is tough. Gotta do whatcha gotta do to survive.
<True shit. You still gettin’ bread fuckin’ dat whiteboy’s wife?
Yea, it ain’t dat much though. ‘Specially since he on the run now.
Meanwhile, Low Life rummages through the shelves, eventually finding a plastic jug full of what you can only assume is moonshine. The label lists an obscene alcohol content, and the packaging is so crudely made that you half expect someone just left it there without the shopkeeper’s knowledge.
<YESSSS! This the good shit!
He seems to be about to open it when Maurice’s voice rings out.
<You niggas ain’t stealin’, is you? If you is, you gon’ regret it.
<Nah, nah, we ain’t, don’t worry.
Lil Doorknob motions urgently to Low Life not to open the jug.
Low Life returns him a stare like he could not give less of a fuck.
You aren’t all that interested in the drink selection yourself, until something catches your eye. Is that a bottle of heckin’ A Song of Cuck & Soy whisky? It’s limited edition, and you’d been waiting years for it to have a rerun. What incredible luck!
What do you do?
