The world suddenly began to move in slow motion. Pain saw his partner Lex fall before he heard the shot. Paco had drawn a weapon and blasted Lex twice in the chest. The aspiring star spun and collapsed to the ground. His body heaved one last time and the life drained from his body. Jay made a move, giving Pain fleeting hope that someone would stand with him in the battle for his life, but to his surprise Jay took off running. He had almost made it to the corner when one of Paco’s people gunned him down. Jay took four shots to the back and fell face-first into the street. Pain found himself alone, staring down the barrels of several automatic weapons.

At that moment, Pain’s entire life flashed before his eyes. He was about to become one of the biggest rising stars in hip-hop, but the little greaseball Spanish cat standing in front of him was threatening that. In a last attempt at saving his life, Pain lunged for Paco. Before he had even gotten within arm’s length, a slug tore through his side. He was so coked up that he didn’t even realize he had been shot until the second bullet hit him. He tried to run off, but received two more slugs to the back. Pain lay on the floor, kicking his legs as if he were still trying to run. As he watched Paco standing over him, gun trained on the middle of his forehead, all he could think about was how he was never gonna make it onto MTV.

“Yo, kid, you made the papers!” Spooky exclaimed, showing Jah the article about Ralph’s murder. “You pushed that boy’s shit smooth back.”

“Why don’t you say it a little louder, I don’t think the people on the fifth floor heard you,” Jah said, breaking up a block of weed on a magazine.

“Fuck these square-ass niggaz!” Spooky shouted. “They know who the fuck we be. Our murder game is superofficial.”

“Spooky, don’t be saying that shit too loud. The block is on fire right now and I ain’t trying to get knocked with this thing on me.” Jah exposed the butt of his .40.

“Jah, why the fuck do you still have that thing, didn’t I just give you another gun?”

Jah sucked his teeth. “Spooky, stop sweating me.”

“Yo, you been on some real moody shit since the night of the party. What’s good with you, duke?”

“Nothing, I just got a lot on my mind right now,” Jah told him.

“You know what,” Spooky said and sat beside him on the stoop, “I think the problem is your ass is backed up. You need to get yaself some pussy instead of always running around plotting on a dollar.”

“Nigga, when I’m plotting, your ass be right alongside me.”