Bad Apple - the Baddest Chick(70)

Munchies thought, with Supreme gone, he would be able to profit fully from everything, especially with a young girl trying to take over the business. He shunned Apple and taunted her, exclaiming, “I don’t deal wit’ little f*ckin’ girls!”

Days later, Apple stepped into Munchies’ spot flanked by three hard-hitting, baseball bat-swinging thugs, and accosted Munchies in front of his patrons. They held the overweight Barry White lookalike to the floor and went to work on him with the bats, hitting him everywhere, except the face.

Munchies wailed out from the pain, hugging the floor. After the beating, Apple placed her heel on his bruised chest, glared down at him with a hardened stare and said to him, “I’m the new bitch in town. Young or old, I’m that bitch that will f*ckin’ kill you. Don’t ever doubt me again, you fat f-uck!”

Munchies grasped that she meant business, and Apple never had a problem with him again. He soon became her little bitch, doing anything she told him to do.

*****

Guy Tony asked the young waiter for Munchies, and she quickly went into a back room. A short moment later, Munchies emerged and greeted Guy Tony with a smile.

“Guy, yeah, she said that you were coming. You hungry? Thirsty?” Munchies asked in good spirits.

“Fuck the hospitality! You know what I’m here for, Munchies.”

Munchies nodded. “I got that for you in the back. Follow me.”

Guy Tony walked behind him, and the two moved down a short, narrow hallway and entered one of Munchies’ back rooms. Munchies, clad in a white-and-red Sean John warm-up suit, with diamonds dripping off his wrists, neck, and ears, placed himself behind his desk. He liked to be flashy and loved money more than anything else. He reached into his desk drawer and tossed Guy Tony a small brown lumpy envelope stuffed with cash.

“That should cover me, right?” Munchies asked.

Guy Tony took the package in his hand and opened it to inspect the contents. It was filled with twenties, fifties, and hundreds.

Munchies began smoking a cigar and pouring himself a drink.

Guy Tony looked at him suspiciously. He was soon overcome with a nervous feeling. For as long as he knew Munchies, he never gave up a large sum of money without bitching first, always exclaiming, “Y’all f*ckin’ breakin’ my pockets, man. Highway robbery, that’s what it is. Robbery.” But Munchies still paid what was owed.

Guy noticed he seemed a little too cool handing over five thousand dollars without a mumbling complaint. “You OK, Munchies?” he asked.

“I’m good.” Munchies smiled and downed his drink. “Never been better.”

Guy Tony looked around, quickly studying every detail of the cluttered room. He noticed the closet door behind him was ajar, and that suddenly became his point of interest. He had a feeling someone was hiding in the dark, waiting for him to let his guard down.

“Guy, have a seat. Drink?” Munchies offered.

It was another giveaway that something was wrong. Munchies never wanted him to stay longer than he had to.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ma take off.” Guy Tony watched Munchies’ eyes and noticed them focusing on something behind him, looking toward the closet door, possibly signifying they weren’t alone in the room. He placed his hand near his weapon, ready to strike.

“You sure, Guy? I mean, you ain’t gotta rush off too soon,” Munchies said loudly.

Guy Tony’s survival impulse kicked in, and in one rapid motion, he pulled his weapon from his waistband and rushed to the closet and saw a figure trying to emerge from it. He slammed the door shut on the stranger’s arm, which had a .357 attached to it. There was a loud scream. The man was trapped inside the closet with his right arm crushed in the door, as the gun fired wildly in his hand. Guy Tony put more pressure on the door and heard the stranger’s arm snap like a twig, and then another loud scream.

Guy Tony became aware of Munchies reaching into his desk for a weapon, but before Munchies got the draw on him, he fired, striking him in the abdomen and causing him to double over from the sudden shot.

“Ah shit! f-uck!” he cried out, falling back into his chair, holding his wound.

With Munchies out of commission for a moment, Guy Tony focused his attention back to the gunman trapped in the closet. Swiftly, he swung open the closet door, aimed, fired, and the man dropped dead at his feet, a gunshot wound to his head.

“Muthaf*cka!” Guy Tony looked down at the man sprawled out lifeless at his feet and fired another shot into his head. Breathing hard, he turned his attention back to Munchies with a bitter stare, the smoking gun at his side.

Munchies sat slumped in his chair, looking somewhat disoriented. He looked up at Guy Tony standing over him with the gun trained at his head. He pressed his hand against his bloody wound and coughed, a look of defeat on his chunky face.

“Don’t kill me, man,” he pleaded. “It wasn’t me.”

“Who told you to set me up?” Guy Tony shouted.

“I was just doing what I was told.”

“Who, muthaf*cka?” Guy screamed, stepping closer, the gun aimed at Munchies’ head.

“It was Apple, man. She’s the one that put the hit out on you. I swear, man. I didn’t wanna do it, but she promised me that if I took you out, my debt with her would be wiped clean.”

Guy Tony couldn’t believe it. For a split moment, he felt like his world didn’t matter anymore. He regretted taking out Supreme to help Apple rise, when Supreme was actually the lesser evil. He felt he had been played one time too many, so now it was war. He vowed to destroy Apple by any means necessary.