NBA playoff season is on like Donkey Kong. There’s many questions on who will move forward to the next round, but there’s only ever BEEN ONE ANSWER. THE ANSWER! While this might be a new smooth breakthrough record for this summer, some genius combined it with a highlight reel of the Jordan-crossin, courtside-braidin, NO-PRACTICIN basketball style GAWD (debate open and closed), Allen Iverson. Enjoy the reason I am still sadly a Sixers fan, and sauce to this throwback.
The honorable Yukon Gold is a retired judge, a soggy old man, aged in barrels of xenophobia and nepotism. He’s got a son in the DA’s office, will probably be assigned the case if the bastard I’m hunting is lucky enough to get cuffs over a bullet in the brain. Yukon is annoyed, wanting to know why I’m wasting such an important potato’s time. He makes it clear he should have been the first to give a statement. I tell him I’m just going by alphabetical order of first name. He hems and haws as I wipe the shit off my grin.
He’s confident he knows exactly who the killer is. Says he saw him flee the scene. But something about his description of the suspect doesn’t jive with me. The details don’t add up. He says some green junkie name Ed pulled the job. Claims it was a robbery gone bad. I ask him how he could know that. He says Ed’s “type” always lurk around the neighborhood, plotting schemes, eyeballing the wealthy that pass through. Yukon figures Ed did Russet in for a quick dollar, kindling for a pipe. I don’t argue with him. Yukon’s playing some other game. I know better than to believe he’s fingering the right guy. I also know better than to ignore his lead. That’s a quick route to reassignment, a land of paperwork and evidence bags. Not the life for me. I’m no good with a pen.
I tell him I’ll look into it and he’s far too eager to give up an address, a rundown building, an abandoned lot on the edge of gentrification, a graveyard for needles and rubbers. Suddenly Yukon’s interests are very clear. Family wealth runs deep. Probably looking to turn the neighborhood over. Create a safe haven for spineless cowards like Red. Keep the “others” out. I’d press him on it, but powerful men don’t talk to guys like me. Not unless I can prove intent. Yukon’s guilty of plenty of things, but murder isn’t in play here. He seems satisfied in the knowledge that I’ll bring Ed in. I think about thanking him for his help, a useless lie, but he’s already gone, headed back to whatever crypt he crawled out of for the night.
And just like that, I’m off to see what Ed doesn’t know…
Ever thought, “hey, that lady looks EXACTLY like lime-cat”, or “wait a minute…pretty sure I saw that governor on the cover of Mad Magazine”. Well you’re not entirely crazy, or at least you’re not the only one! With election-season on the runway for full on take-over of every possible screen, Team Coco took notice of who some of the latest declared candidates remind us off.
Spot on, or nah?