by Sa'id Salaam
“I’m definitely catching the show,” Killa snarled. That meant Pimp Daddy Pimp would be giving his final performance because he was about to get fucked up.
Killa pulled up to the diner Bria said that her brother hung out in. He spotted his target sitting in a back booth with a few more beginner pimps. They were taking turns trying to turn out the pretty waitress, but were getting nowhere. However, what they were getting was spit in their food every chance she got to.
“You’re not from ‘round hurr are you?” the waitress asked when she stopped at Killa’s table.
“Nah, here on business. Or should I say hurr?” he asked, so she would show that pretty smile once more. It worked.
“Not unless you from hurr!” she cracked up. “What can I get you? From the menu that is.”
“Of course,” he said taking note of the nasty glance she shot the nasty niggas in the booth. “I’ll just eat whatever you suggest.”
“See! Now you almost made me say something nasty to you!” she cracked up showing that smile once again. Killa took a closer look at the pretty brown girl and nodded in approval. In an instant, he could tell that she was clean and down to earth.
“You doing an awful lot of smiling down thurr, Darlene. I hope he paying for that!” Trey yelled over like he was her pimp.
“I hate that bastard! All those bastards, but ‘specially him!” she growled in a whisper with a now fake smile pasted on her face.
“Why?” Killa pried looking for confirmation.
“First of all, he keep trying to get me to prostitute for him. I don’t even be fucking like that, and he trying to pimp me! Then because that nigga pimpin’ his own sister! And his mama!”
“So why you not fuckin’?” Killa asked as if that was all he heard. She frowned at him until the joke processed then she laughed out loud.
“Well, anyway. You a Yankee so I know you don’t eat no pork, so I’ll order you a double cheese, double meat, and fries.”
“Sounds good,” Killa agreed and watched her ass as she walked away. Her panty lines suggested that they were French cut, which were his favorite. He then concentrated on eavesdropping on the dead man’s plans for the night. Plans that he intended to cancel.
“Got this new bitch I pulled over in Ferguson. I’ma put the dick on her and then put her on the track next to my mama and sister,” Trey said cracking his friends up. At least they got to enjoy his company one last time.
*****
As soon as dusk fell over St. Louis, Killa crept out on the prowl. He slipped back into the ghetto and staked out his victim’s rundown house. The sheer curtains allowed him to watch the occupants of the house. The two women of the house got dressed to be ladies of the night and then departed.
“Last time,” he said to himself on their behalf. His first mind was to kick in the door and put a bullet through Trey’s mind, but he didn’t. The girl had specifically requested that he be beaten to death and like Burger King, he wanted the customer to have it her way.
Still Killa tucked his pistol just in case he encountered any intangibles. 511 Beacher Street was about to be a murder scene. Killa’s eyes darted in each direction as he approached the front door. At the same time, he slid a pair of brass knuckles on each hand.
“My new bitch!” Trey cheered at the soft tapping upon the door. He rushed over, snatched the door open, and got the surprise of his life. It would also be his last.
“Ugh!” Killa grunted and socked Trey with everything he had. It was plenty too and removed all his front teeth. Trey stumbled backwards and fell over the coffee table.
“Who are you?” What do you want?” he asked hoping to give it to him to prevent getting hit again. It didn’t work because what Killa wanted was his life, so he slugged him again this time breaking his jaw.
“I’ll ask the questions. I actually have just one. Why in the hell would you pimp your own mother and sister?” Killa growled and threw another punch. Trey put an arm up to deflect the blow and got that broken too.
“Oweee!” Trey managed to squeal through his clenched mouth since his jaws wouldn’t open. “It’s the music, sir. The rap music, it fucked me up! It’s Pimp Daddy Pimp…”
“Got you killed!” Killa interjected and finished Trey’s statement at the same time. He then finished his life. Each blow landed with a satisfying crunch of bone and cartilage.
Trey tried to crawl away but didn’t make it very far. A savage blow to the back of his head crushed his skull in. Even that didn’t stop the beating. Killa was in a murderous zone and beat the back of his head in.
Killa slipped out of his now bloody coveralls, revealing his One Ummah sweat suit underneath. He then shoved it along with the ruined boots he wore in a bag. After a quick look out the front door- to the left and then right-, he slipped out, and walked briskly to his car. Not a moment too soon either because a car pulled up as he was putting the bag of clothes in his trunk and preparing to change his shoes.
He assumed, correctly, that it was Trey’s date from nearby Ferguson. He watched the cute girl shake her cute ass as she approached the house. He watched in amusement as she tried to be cute when she knocked on the door. No way was Trey answering that knock.
“Uh-oh,” Killa chuckled when she tried the door and it opened. “Wait for it… wait… wait… for… it…huh?”
Much to Killa’s surprise, the woman didn’t come out screaming as she should have. The room was covered in blood from the dirty floor to the water stained ceiling, yet she still ventured inside. He got behind the wheel and started the car, but instead of pulling off he waited and watched curiously.
"Well, I’ll be damn!” Killa laughed when the girl came out with a flat screen under her arm and her pockets stuffed.
*****
Killa had all but made up his mind to return home to Atlanta, but a chance encounter changed his plans. He was stopped at a red light, when his whole car vibrated from the heavy bass from the SUV coming up behind him.
‘Pimpin’ ain’t dead, des’ hoes just scared. I’m pimpin’ nigga’s daughters so daddies beware. Pimpin’ ain’t dead…’
Killa almost ran the red light to get away from the disgusting lyrics until he looked over at the completely wrapped truck. Yup, it was Pimp Daddy Pimp’s vehicle. It got even better when he got a look at the rapper sitting in the backseat.
“Sho-nuff!” he said happily to himself, seeing that it was the same smartass from the airport. Thoughts of BIG and Tupac getting killed in stopped cars flooded his mind. He grabbed the gun and reached for the handle. A girl popped up from Pimp’s lap with the wet mouth of a blow job in process and saved his life. Well, not actually saved, but extended it for a while longer.
Killa lagged back and fell behind the truck. A few blocks later, the SUV came to an abrupt stop that made him think he’d been spotted. Again he grabbed the gun ready for war. The back door flew open and the girl was shoved out onto the street.
“Fuck you!” she spat after spitting out a mouthful of semen.
Killa was delighted to get to use the device he had shipped. He reached into the bag and armed it as he sped up to catch the vehicle. When the vehicle stopped at the light, Killa made his move. He whipped up alongside it and shot the driver and bodyguard, who was riding shot gun with a shot gun. Pimp Daddy Pimp locked eyes with his killer just long enough to place his face.
“You!” he said remembering their encounter at the airport.
“Yup!” Killa replied and tossed in the bomb. He mashed the gas and quickly pulled away out of the blast’s zone.
Pimp Daddy Pimp made a move for the door but didn’t quite make it. The low explosive charge went off with enough force to stun and maim. That allowed the white phosphorus to burn him alive until he was dead. The irony didn’t escape the comical killer either.
“Turns out Pimpin’ is dead,” Killa chuckled and headed back to his hotel.
Chapter 8
‘In breaking news out of St. Louis Missouri, controversial rapper P
imp Daddy Pimp was killed along with two of his bodyguards. The foulmouthed lyricist, who was known for the song ‘Pimp yo mama’, died in an explosion. Police say that military grade munitions were used in the assassination of the rapper.’
“Assassination? That’s for important people. Them niggas got kilt!” Yolo joked to the twins who laughed accordingly. “That reminds me of a story your daddy told me.”
“Dada! Dada!” Sun and Shyne repeated excitedly. Anytime their mother mentioned his name or showed them his picture, they broke into their little cheer. “Dada, Dada!”
“That’s right, your daddy fed a rapper to the lions at the zoo. See me, I would have cut him up while he was still alive and made him watch them eat his body parts. But, that’s just me.”
As Yolo spoke, she pulled up more information on the recent bombing. The crime scene photos and reports told her exactly what she had suspected. Killa was back.
‘In local news, The Amityville Rapist struck again last night. Fourteen year old Yashika Monae Lewis was raped and strangled in her bedroom, while her mother was competing in a Tonk contest at a local bar.
Police say the perpetrator cut off both of the victim’s hands which indicate that he’s increasing in violence. Here now is Detective Warren, head of the taskforce in charge of catching this monster.’
‘Thank you. The perpetrator has become more brazen by attacking the latest child in her own home…’
Yolo felt moisture seeping into her panties as she watched his thick lips move as he spoke, she imagined them moving against her vagina and smiled. The smile was quickly replaced by a frown, when she noticed a deep scratch across the cop’s face. The pink groove made a stark contrast against his dark brown skin. There was another smaller scratch on his neck as well.
The frown on her face deepened as she processed all of the information. She added it all together, took it back apart, multiplied and then divided it, and finally came up with her answer.
“You son of a bitch!” Yolo growled at the cop on the screen. “No wonder his DNA isn’t on file! No wonder her hands were cut off! Your dirty ass did this shit! You wanna cut off body parts? Well, I’m going to show you how it’s really done.”
With that Yolo decided to catch her a predator.
*****
“Just what are you up to?” Christi asked once more as Yolo snapped pictures of her. The excuse of wanting to see her in the new outfits they picked up wasn’t flying.
“You can’t talk and smile at the same time!” Yolo snapped sarcastically as she snapped more pictures of the cute teen. Nothing sexy, unless you’re a child molester or perverted cop who preys on young girls and whose days are numbered because he’s going to be brutally murdered.
Yolo had gone to great lengths to set her trap. She had a slight setback when she couldn’t find any lions to feed the man to. She couldn’t find any pigs either, so she came up with something far worse. It was something fucked up actually, but it can’t be said that he didn’t deserve it though.
It took some doing, but she finally was able to get it all together. She rented a small house at the end of a cul-de-sac. She purchased a couple prepaid cell phones, some scalpels, saws, a morgue table, and a set of non-stick cookware.
Another girl was murdered before Yolo could execute her plans to kill the killer cop, and she took the girl’s death personal. She planned to make her killer suffer for not only her death, but for each and every victim’s life he had claimed. A bullet in his brain was too quick. No way was he getting off that easy. The trap was set and now it was time to add the bait.
*****
“Mmm,” Detective Warren moaned at the young girl who came across his screen. It was a wrong number since the text was for Keith, but that didn’t matter.
Yolo had stalked the cop for a few days which only made her angrier. Not only did the cop have a beautiful professional wife, he also had a pretty teenaged daughter of his own. He considered the less fortunate ghetto girls as disposable and preyed upon them. Once he had his way with them, he disposed of them. Leaving their dead bodies all around town, like garbage. But what goes around comes back around.
“Wrong number, but you’re cute,” Warren texted back.
“LOL, OMG, IKR” Yolo texted back, trying to sound like a teen. ‘LOL’
“Got any more pics?” the cop asked, feeling a stiffy coming on from Christi’s cute face.
“LOL, OMG” she replied and sent off a few more of the pictures she took of Christi. The pedophile police responded with a shot of his penis.
“Nice!” Yolo said to herself as she admired his dick. “Too bad you’re a married sexual predator. Not to mention, I got a man.”
“Let me see yours,” Warren texted with one hand while stroking his erection with the other.
“I’m only 14,” came the reply that made him cum instantly.
“Even better!” he replied like a true child molester.
Yolo sighed and pulled one of her pants legs off, pulled her panties to the side, and snapped a few pictures of her vagina. She got mad at herself for becoming aroused.
“Looks tasty. Can I taste it?” the cop wanted to know.
“LOL, OMG. I guess so. My mom works nights so you can come over.”
“What’s the address?”
*****
“Oh, this is just perfect!” Detective Warren cheered aloud when his GPS told him he’d arrived at his destination. He couldn’t believe his luck. First, a precious young thing just falls into his lap, now she lives at the end of a dark block. The distance between the houses meant no one would hear her scream.
Only problem is there’s really no such thing as luck. Devine decree determined matters, and it decreed that today would be his last day. Tonight he would be the one screaming to death. The how, however, was up to Yolo and unluckily for him that chic is a lunatic. This was going to be brutal.
The cop was rock hard at the prospect of another young victim. He needed to either jack off again or wait for it to go down since he didn’t want to ring her bell like that. If anyone else happened to be home, he could always pull out his badge and play things off.
“I’m here” he texted once his erection went down.
“Come on in,” the reply said.
“I’m gonna cum in alright,” the cop laughed to himself. “In your mouth, your ass, and your tight little young pussy.”
“Come in,” Yolo called out through the darkness when he rang the bell. The cop turned the knob and rushed inside.
“Ouch!” he exclaimed when the dart entered his neck. “What the hell was that?”
There wasn’t time to explain the sedative since he quickly hit the floor with a heavy thud. It took a lot longer to work on Animal Planet, making Yolo wonder if she hadn’t used too much. He was breathing deeply when she began cutting his clothes off. Once he was naked she drug him into the dining room to get started. She did play with his dick a little first before getting down to business.
*****
“Huh? What the…” Detective Warren said when he awoke several hours later. He tugged at the restraints holding him to the morgue table until he was satisfied that he wouldn’t be able to break himself free.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Yolo sang as she breezed back into the room. “Ready for dinner?”
“I’m Detective First Class Glen Warren. You are committing several felonies by holding me against my will,” he barked trying to sound like he was in control. Yolo cracked up proving that he wasn’t. “What do you want?”
“Get back! But we’ll get to that after you eat.”
“Fine. Now, let me loose so I can eat,” he sighed as if he wasn’t going to try to subdue her the second she did. Yolo was a bit old for his taste, but he would still rape and murder her so his time wouldn’t be wasted.
“I’ll feed you,” she said and retreated into the kitchen. The cop took the opportunity to try his restraints once more. It was only then that he realized that he couldn’t feel his legs.
/> “I can’t feel my legs,” the cop moaned when she returned. To make matters worse, he couldn’t look down because his head was strapped down.
“Yesss! It worked!” Yolo cheered and pumped her fist triumphantly at her first successful epidural. Last time she tried to give one she failed miserably and had to listen to the girl’s screams the whole time she cut her up.
“I’ll let you feel them in a few minutes,” Yolo offered. She left out the part about them being in the other room. He already had a lot on his plate at the moment. She cut a piece of the meat and added a few vegetables with it on the fork. “Open up.”
“Mm,” the cop hummed as he chewed. He would have pretended it was good, even if it wasn’t, but it actually was. He nodded and smiled as he chewed then swallowed. “Delicious! What is it?”
“Deez sauté with wild mushrooms and chipotle,” she replied with a self-satisfied simpering smile from the compliment.
“Deez? I’m not familiar with that. Deez what?” he asked accepting another mouthful.
“Deez nuts! Got eeem!” the silly killer shouted and cracked the fuck up. The joke was wasted on the un-hip cop, who didn’t get it. “Actually, they’re your nuts not deez.”
“I don’t understand,” the cop said and opened up for another bite. Yolo shrugged her shoulders and kept on feeding him. He cleaned his plate like a good boy.
“Can I play with your dick?” she asked, batting hers eyes coyly.
“But of course! Let me up and we can really…” he said, but was cut off by her leaving the room. She was back in a flash and started playing with his dick.
Generally men love to watch a woman play with their dicks, but only when it was still attached to their body. His eyes grew wide when he recognized what was happening.
“YOU CUT MY DICK OFF!” he shouted and tried again, in vain, to free himself.
