You steel yourself and decide to use your credit card, despite the dangers that it might bring. However scary the police may be, you’re more scared of Jamal’s potential wrath if you asked to use his EBT card.
You walk up to Maurice and hold out your card.
Hey, um, do you take ca-
Before you can finish, Low Life lurches in front of you, clearly highly inebriated and carrying the opened jug of alcohol, already half empty.
<Nigga what the fuck are you doing? I said you wasn’t to steal shit! That mean don’t open shit without paying!
<I’m payin’, what fuckin’ difference do it make? Now how much is dis shit?
Maurice pauses and looks at the carton with a mix of confusion and anger.
<Ion even know what that shit is! I dunno man, a dollar?
Low Life grins widely.
<Now that’s a good deal! Pleasure doing business.
<Whatever man. Just get the fuck outta here.
<I’m goin! I’m goin! No need to be all rude n’ shit.
He stumbles out the door, chuckling to himself.
