Friday, February 17, 2017

The Miss Adventures Of Innocent Eigth Excerpt



The Miss Adventures Of Innocent

Cry Baby

Ice The Meance had been beaten for the last three hour. His eyes were swollen shut. He couldn't see. He was sure his jaw was broken. He was handcuffed. An hour ago a knife was taken to his clothes and he was left nude. He wasn't sure if she was still using her fist or if she was using weapons now. Everything was a blur. He remembered it starting with the Prince hitting him on the back of the head with the butt of a pistol then everything going black. He felt the cold water waken him....he was shocked when it hit his face. He wanted the ice water now to numb the pain because now everything throbbed. An aching aching throb.

" Take it easy Van. It's still early," The Prince said checking his gold plated watch with yellow diamonds in the face. " The Movado says it's two o' five. You know Eminem says the murders don't start until 3 AM."

The Asian woman named Miss Van had her hands wrapped with the remains of Ice's JNCO jeans. She was hitting him bare knuckles for two hours straight and would've continued but Prince made her wrap her hands up. He was protecting his investment. She argued for about twenty mintues...she didn't want to look weak. But the Prince was the boss. It was just Miss Van hated Ice so much. She had been waiting to beat him since the Prince had written to her about the young rapist.

" Ice, I am going to ask you this one more time and then I am going to break some ribs," Van said. " Who the fuck hired you to get the Prince whacked?"

Ice moaned. The words coming out he no longer recognized. Everything was one long ache. He wasn't sure why they were still beating him. Only one of two things could be true at this point. He was either lying or he wasn't going to snitch. That was it.

He wasn't sure what he had just said but he heard the Asian girl say something that sounded like "money" to the Prince then he blacked out again. He woke up to someone slapping him and a pain in his cheast. He was sure his ribs were now broken.

" Well cousin. This is what we've come to," The Prince said as he walked around puffing on a G-Pen. He was in his wifebeater now. His tattoos visible as paced back in forth smiling. His cousin still in disguise but now out of her fat suit sat on the counter of the record store with her legs crossed. Her body was in immaculate shape. Her own wifebeater a bit damp from being in the fat suit but even with the make up and ridiculous wig she still was very attractive without the weight by the industries standards. She looked at The Prince and smiled. She hadn't spoken once but seeing as how Ice couldn't see she came out of the fat suit. She wasn't such much hot as she was vain.

Van spit on Ice as he cried and moaned. She grabbed him by the arm and sat him up against the wall. She slapped him again. He had blacked out and she wanted to wake him up.

Vincent stood tapping his foot. Things were moving too fast for him. He was used to The Prince doing gangster shit. He had seen the Prince do way worst shit. Before the Prince went to Prison the first time he watched the Prince rob someone that had robbed him. What started out as revenge ended up being an all night robbing spree. He watched the Prince rob people for all he could get. Cell phones, money, he even robbed someone for almost empty bottle of Hypnotiq which was why the Prince always drank Hypnotiq, it was a joke. But the worst moment that night to Vincent was when the Prince robbed a woman for her phone number. He said he had seen Marlon Wayans do it in a movie and thought it was hilarious. But he wasn't sure if the Prince was going to kill Ice or not. You never knew when the Prince was joking or not. Vincent knew how the Prince had gotten his tattooed tears. He knew the Prince could kill. But it seemed petty to kill some rapping nigger. It was the Prince's temper though. He could snap at any moment.

" I just don't know cuz. It's like we got these niggers right? These hip hop, rapping tapping ass niggers. I mean guys like me. The educated, poetic, handsome free people of color have to deal with these silly niggers," the Prince walked over to the body of the barely concious Ice. He leaned down as he inhaled the G-Pen. " You always want to hit the weed Ice. Always trying to smoke with a G. That's why I never let you hit the real shit we get from the Bay. But I like you Ice. I hate you but I like you. I'm let you smell this shit I just got from the Bay fool."

The Prince blew smoke into Ice's face and laughed loudly. "Mother fucking rapist. Van you know this nigger asked for some groceries from me in prison. He never paid me back either. Even when his bum ass mama sent him a little change. I gave this nigga four packs of swiss cakes. Now there are two in each packet. So that's eight right? I am good at math. I went to college. I'm educated."

The Prince hit the weed again and shook his head. " That's eight cakes. Eight fucking cakes. I could have ate them shits while I wrote albums in my cell. Van I need my money back. Break a finger for every fucking cake this nigger owes me."

Van sneered then spit on Ice again. "You're not worth my fucking spit you fucking freakazoid. But it's the closest you'll ever come to exchanging fluids with a bad bitch."

The screams were echoed down the halls off the empty mall.


Innocent had got off from the night club at about three in the morning. It was a slow night. She made about three thousand. She spent shit like that on a bag though. She drove her Lexus that was paid for (she owned it) to her apartment in the high end area of Atlanta. She wasn't tired. She learned along time ago that there were two type of bitches in her business. The lazy and the hard workers. She didn't truly dance at the club. She moved lazily at work. There wasn't much work in seducing people. It was natural to her. She was used to staying up for several days even if she had to dance. She just wasn't her at work. She learned to seperate work from her actual life. A lot of the girls at her job couldn't do that. They worked all night slept all day. There life had become the club. Innocent figured if your life was the club you couldn't leave the club.

She entered her apartment and placed her keys on the counter. She stretched and turned on her television. She had her PlayStation two hooked up and she placed her Melanie Martinez CD in it. She ran her bath water placing scattered rose petals in the water before she began lighting her candles.

Moments later, she lay nude in the bathtub smoking a fat joint. She had her eyes closed as the music played loudly. She hadn't heard anything from Vincent that night. She was getting anxious. She lay in bed. She had sent him several messages since the night she had the dream. Each one more desperate. She even left her number. She had memorized her last message to him and it went:

" Vincent. Since I last saw you I couldn't stop thinking of you. I have had nightmares about you. I really haven't changed that much from school. Yes I got plastic surgery but it was because I was never really confident in myself. I felt ugly in school. I never had a boyfriend before. I just wanted some confidence. I was had a flat body my whole life. I hope you don't think these surgeries affected my brain because they didn't. I am still Mildred. I am just sad that people like you think I am some bimbo just because I have curves now. If you do think I am a fool I want to prove to you I am not. But thank you for reminding me how far I have come. Please call me."

She wasn't sure if what Vincent was thinking but she felt she had defended herself well. She thought if he wasn't judging her and being understanding of her situation then maybe he would get in contact with her. After all Vincent was not a woman. And with all the women empowerment videos she had seen throughout college she felt she had a point. She lived in a society where from a certain stand point a woman could do whatever she wanted to her own body. They had porn videos were women would get spanked brutally. This was legal abuse. The average person didn't see that the woman was getting brusied they just saw ass. They saw ass and thought sex. Forget the fact that women had been objectified for so long. She really saw no point to it all. She figured Vincent paid very little attention to detail anyway. The man had an MBA and a law degree. He probably had his fair share of women.

She soaked in the water....and as she lay there she felt a tear roll down her cheek. She hadn't cried since the surgery.


"It's three o' clock Prince," Vincent said as he yawned. " What's the point of this shit? Haven't you had enough? She's going to kill him. She's a martial artist man. She's going to kill him if you don't stop."

The Prince turned to Vincent. His eyes were red. He was stoned. His cousin had a hand over her mouth supressing a giggle. She had said nothing the whole time in fear Ice might recognize her voice. But she knew the Prince very well and almost laughed because she knew what was next.

" When I was a kid Vincent my first step father came into a room once while I was playing mortal kombat with my other cousin from my black family. He thought the game was too violent and said he thought I had had enough of the game," The Prince walked over to Vincent and put an arm around his childhood friend. " I laughed in his face Vincent. A little kid laughing at his genius step father. Now you wouldn't be telling me I have had enough would you?"

" No. Of course not," Vincent gasped. " All I am saying is I got shit to do. Look I wasn't expecting any of this shit. I haven't even heard much from you since you got out of the Asylum. You get me here with one of the richest black women of our era and a Princess of one of the Asian Gangs from Koreatown. I am wondering what's the point of this shit. I hate this piece of shit porch monkey and I don't even know this fucking nigger so I can imagine how much hate you harbor for this prick but what is the point? The kid isn't even in his right mind anymore. Look at his face it looks like he got hit by Mayweather fifty times or some shit. His arms are broken. His fingers are broken. What is the point of this shit? My parents wanted me to see this shit. I missed out on Benz for a fucking rapist, piece of shit porch monkey? What's the point of this meeting? I am here to talk entertainment!"

" Are you not entertained?"

" I am but I have seen you and Van kill better. This is no replacement for a birthday. I will tell you that."

The Prince nodded to his cousin. She hopped off the counter and went through the door behind the cash register. She came back seconds later with the .380 cobra pistol in her hand and two people. An old black woman and a young boy about the age of thirteen.

" Is he awake," The Prince asked Van.

Van knelt in front of the nude Ice and slapped him again. He wouldn't wake up.

" Get the ice water," The Prince ordered Van.

Ice twitched at the mention of ice water. He slowly came back to reality...then...splash. He was awake. He moaned.

" Ice. I would like you to hear some voices," The prince nodded to his cousin again.

She cocked the pistol and pointed it at the old woman.

" Juwan. It is me your grandmother. Give them what they want! They are going to kill me and your little brother. Tell them what you know," the old lady pleaded.

" NaNa I wob blue," Ice said with a broken jaw.

" So Ice," Van said as she put her hand in the remaining ice water that occupied a bucket. " Who hired you to get the Prince knocked off?"

The next thing Ice remembered was the gun shot. It echoed loudly and his ears ring. He heard his grandmother scream and his little brother sob. He felt the tears coming out of his swollen eyes. Then he heard the scariest words he had ever heard.

" The contract consist of this. Ice you no longer live. We own your life or we will kill your family. This old ass bitch and your brother that was going to end up just like you one day too...a fucking gang banging prisoner. Period. You will do what we tell you to do. From here on out you are our slave. You are the property of Mushroom Kingdom Entertainment. That is it fool. Sound good to you Vincent? That sound like a good contract? Whatever this nigger makes off of his record sales we fucking spilt between our two families. This kid is going to be the next big star you understand me," The Prince asked Vincent.

Vincent smilied. " Now that is what I am talking about. That's how you please a Neo Nazi. Make slavery legal again. Glad to see you have become a business man Prince."

The Prince's cousin escorted Ice's Grandmother and little brother back through the door and returned with bottles of Hypnotiq for everyone.

" Turn on Ice's new record 'Tragic' ," The Prince ordered Van.

" We left the club with your bitch that's tragic," Ice's voice came on over a hard trap instrumental filled with bass.

Toast were made. Jokes were cracked. Everything was going lovely. Vincent even decided to go on social media and look at all the people that went to school with him that he no longer spoke to because they seemed so lost and foolish to him. He couldn't relate to people that weren't raised with a golden spoon. People like him and Prince used to fuck their babysitters and give away clothes after they wore them once. He never had to worry about fitting in. His world was the 'in' they dreamed about. He operated outside of the imaginary cool. He attracted all eyes. He was the dream and that night the dream had come true. Finally. He was heading to the top with all the people he really loved. His father would have been proud.

As he logged into his Facebook he checked his friend request.....

It was her. The chess player. The woman that used to embarass him on the chess board with her fake disgusting body. They sliced her open. Injected her. She looked so fake to him now. He felt his blood boil. A white woman wanting not just a body but a black woman's body. It was Milder Baxter Douglas McGee.

He wondered if the Prince needed any more talent for his entertainment company. If so he had the perfect girl.

" Two fingers left....that's why I didn't kill him. Two fingers. Peace," The Prince said looking into Vincent's eyes. He was drunk and high. He nodded to Vincent and smiled.

Vincent looked at the Prince and thought to himself The Prince may take pity on Mildred. He may even be attracted to her. The Prince considered himself somewhat of a pimp. No. Vincent decided he would deal with Mildred on his own.


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