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M.S.R.P. II • View topic - The Sugar Hill vs JBM Drug War [Drug Deal]

M.S.R.P. II

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PostPosted: Fri Mar 10, 2006 5:30 pm 
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Location: Everhwere...
”The Sugar Hill-JBM Drug War"
NPC Drug Deal by John Mosca


[Chapter One: “Meetings..”, Section One: “The Moolies”
Location: Sanctuary Night Club]


The six sharply dressed black men sat down before John Mosca in the VIP section of the club. John Mosca had just had Dorga sweep the entire place for bugs and taps. The guards searched the men as they entered and everyone was clean. John Mosca picked up his drink and sipped it. He looked aJohn Mosca at the leader of the men and stretched. ”So what do you want? Why did you call me for this meeting?”

The man looked to John Mosca and laughed. The leader a Mr. Gene Hearn spoke up for the rest of them. ”Mr. Mosca , we all know that you are a mobster in this area. We know you run things around here, and we like our ancestors before us want to make a deal with the Italians. The blacks in harlem got their dope from Ciro Terranova and we want to get our dope from you.”

John Mosca known as the ‘Snow Man’ in Chicago looked to the men. ”Look, I had my boy John Mosca Jr. run down your information. We know you guys control crack and heroin distribution in the projects and ghettos all over New York. But what do you want from me? I thought you got your stuff from the Ese’s down south?”

Gene sipped his Gin and Juice looking over at John. ”The ese’s dried up. Not enough heroin. We need that in large numbers. We here can sell fifty thousand kilo’s of Heroin ourselves. It’s a hot item, but we also got folks in Detroit, Chicago, and Delaware that can move stuff for us. Basically we need a hundred kilo’s a month.”

John Mosca laughed at the sheer amount they wanted. ”You guys have million’s?” John Mosca Jr. started laughing as well placing his hand nearer to his gun, things dident smell right.

”No, we don’t, but we also don’t have the turf to move it on.” Gene replied even more weary now that the truth came out. John Mosca arose from his seat and looked the black men in the eyes. ”I don’t like my time being wasted. You guys get da fuck outta here before I have my men carry your dead bodies out.”

John Mosca arose but Gene arose as well. ”Mr. Mosca , we need your help. You have money, you have the product, and you have the muscle. Look, we have half the turf we need. However the Carpenter St. Gang and Black Mafia Syndicate have the rest of the turf. Were going to war, we want all the turf in York. If we win this war that means us moving one hundred thousand kilo’s of heroin a month, if you supply us we’ll kick down to you eighteen million and split two amongst our thirty man gang.”

John Mosca sat back down. Eighteen million a month sure was tempting. He looked to the man and then took out a cigar. He lit the cigar and inhaled the smoke. ”What do you need from me?” He looked Gene in the eyes re-interested in the deal at hand.

”We need five hundred grand to finance some outside hitters to hit those two groups. We need guns, and we’ll need the product quickly for when those two groups go down we intend to fill the vaccum instantly.”

John Mosca knew it was a dangerous thing backing a faction during a war. He would need some time to gather information and scout. He arose from his seat. ”Gentlemen, give John Mosca Jr. a call in twenty four hours. If we go with you he will inform you then. Take care gents..”

John Mosca arose and walked out of the room to his office in the club. John Mosca Jr. showed the men out as John Mosca prepared to meet with his inner council. But first he needed information…

[Part Two- Meeting of the Inner Council
Location: Kuratko Funeral Parlor]

The inner council of Mosca ’s criminal prowless in the city consisted of Franscesco who ran the muscle crews, and John Mosca Jr. who ran the expert thief teams. John Mosca looked to his two men as he took out a manilla folder. ”Okay, the Junior Black Mafia otherwise known as the JBM has fourty members, they are led by Joseph “Jo Jo” Jenkins, Mark “Mark da Mack” Sloan, and Julio “The Ese” Rodriguez. They have ten men under them who act sorta lika Capos, and the rest of the men are under them. Now the Carpenter Street Gang is exactly as it sounds, it’s a punk as dope dealing gang. They have twenty members, with one leader, Antonio “Tone” Grizlle. Its an easy war. They definitely wont fuck with us.”

John Mosca Jr. looked at the files and back up at John. ”One problem Amico. The JBM are backed by the Rothstein brothers. A bunch of Jewish bookmakers down in Brooklyn. They don’t have muscle but they have influence with the Trafficante mob. Because they kick up to them.”

This indeed did raise a problem for John Mosca . He scratched his chin. ”How much you think they kick?”

John Mosca Jr. began thinking about how much money he had lost with the Rothstein’s and how many customers they had. He then began to calculate in his mind. ”They make about two hundred grand a week, so that’s a twenty grand envelope a week.”

John Mosca wrote down some details for John Mosca Jr.. ”I want you to take them an envelope of our own. You take em an envelope with half a million in it. You tell em this is for the loss of income they are gonna experience because of the Rothstein’s disappearance. You tell em we aint askin, they have no rights in New York, were doing this out of courtesy but take it or not were making our move.”

John Mosca Jr. dident like the appointment but he dident let that dismay him. All of a sudden John Mosca Jr. stepped up. ”Wait, let me go, I know a Captain down there. I’ll send the message. John Mosca Jr. you send a couple of your gunmen with me as back up.” John Mosca Jr. nodded and they both looked to John.

”First stage is John Mosca Jr. finding us some moolies who can pull a trigger from out of town. I want no italian’s in this. We need ten black gunmen, the best you can find and the best money can pay for.”

John Mosca Jr. nodded. ”I know some up in Cincinatti. Marquel Johnson known in his neighborhood as “God” runs a street syndicate there. They push crack, and every other kind of dope. He has done hits for Italian bosses before, especially colombos. Him and nine of his lackeys should work, but they’ll be expensive.”

John Mosca laughed. ”I don’t care, were talking about controlling the H game in the ghettos. We’ll pay for him. Once him and his guns are up here we equip em, then we send em out against the Carpenter St Gang, while John Mosca Jr. and John Mosca Jr. go down to Miami and work things out with Traffacante. Once we have things worked out those gunmen will then unleash hell on the JBM, we then supply the Sugar Hill Syndicate and they push the dope here, Harlem, and Detroit. Let’s get busy, John Mosca Jr. call the moolies and tell em we’ll do it.”

John Mosca Jr. nodded and went over to a corner to make the call. The plan was now in motion, and if all went well it meant a huge pay day for John Mosca and his gang…

[Chapter Two: “Preparations for War..”, Section One: “God”
[u]Location: Street Corner, Cincinatti Ohio]


Marquel Johnson was a tall light skinned fellow with bulging muscles and a bald head. Ruling his neighborhood ruthlessly they called him “God” around here. John Mosca Jr. had hired him to do a hit before with the Colombo Civil War’s and so he knew exactly where to find him. He sent one of his thugs into the boxing gym to get Marquel out who only returned to John Mosca Jr.’s side with a black eye.

Marquel came walking out of the Gym with five of his guys. He dident even have a gun drawn but his anger turned to a smile when he saw John Mosca Jr. “Johnny “Little Tiger” Marseca Gun’s”. ”They aint locked you up yet?” Marquel said looking at the mobster. John Mosca Jr. laughed as he gave Marquel a hand shake. ”I think your name is higher on he FBI’s most wanted list than mine. So can we go somewhere? I got a business proposition..”

Marquel snapped his fingers and pointed at the Gym. His men walked inside of the Gym and Marquel looked at the thug who came with John Mosca Jr. and flexed acting as if he was gonna hit the thug. ”That means you too boy meet’s world..”

The thug ran off and John Mosca Jr. looked at the running thug. ”Woah, I need better help. Anyways Marquel, my boss needs muscle. Ten guys and yourself is one of em. We need ten of the finest black hitters this side of the Mississippi. Your gonna be whacking out fourty guys though. Its a lot of work.”

Marquel scratched his chin. ”What the fuck? I need to bring fifteen of my guys, and I need you to provide the guns and a place to stay. And I need you to pay me a million dollars.”

John Mosca Jr. knew that per body the going rate was twenty thousand dollars. He knew Marquel was way overcharging him. ”Nah bro, I aint no rookie. You get the logistics handled, and you need to bring fifteen guys, you get half a mil plus we can sell you dem shits, ya know H for like three grand a o (ounce).”

Marquel thought about the half mil and knew it was a good price. He then thought about the cheapness of the H and smiled, that would make him more than the half mil. [b]”Aight, when’s it all go down?” Marquel asked while John Mosca Jr. pulled out the envelope of cash.

”You fly up in a few days. Make sure you bring solid guys. Any fowl ups and its on you.” John Mosca Jr. shook his hand again and walked to the Gym, waving the thug over, they walk to their rental and head out. The envelope had cash and instructions for Marquel who would hopefully provide the muscle needed to fight this war without using Italians…

[Chapter Two: “Preperations for War…”, Section Two: “Florida…”
Location: The Espasito Resteraunt, South Beach]

The resteraunt was closed to the public on the night that John Mosca Jr. and John Mosca Jr. arrived. Flordia was home to two gangs, the Omicidio and the Traffacante Mob. It was the latter that they had come to see. Walking into the resteraunt John Mosca Jr. looked around and saw his friend sitting in the back.

James “Jimmy Black” Tuscanti was one of the few old hard liners left in the mob. Considered a mustache Pete by the up and coming young turks, this man still commanded respect in his ranks and though he was eighty he was built as if he were fifty. Walking over to him, he notices as he rises and John Mosca Jr. throws his arm around him in a tight embrace. ”Ello Jimmy. I want you to meet a friend of mine, Frankie”

Jimmy looked to the revered and notorius hitman smiling. ”It’s an honor, please both of you’s sit down. A drink gentlemen?” John Mosca Jr. waved it off as he took out a suitcase and laid it on the table. ”We know that your boss backs the Rothstein’s in Brooklyn. Now while Brooklyn was Lucchesse turf and theirs alone for a long time were there. Now Trafficante thumbed his nose up at Lucheese, backing the Rothsteins putting them under his flag when they shoulda been kicking up to the York family but that’s fine. Anyways, they are fucking going. There in our turf and they are hindering some deals we have going on.”

Jimmy’s look turned grave. ”You know my bosses likes the Jew’s. They bring in twenty grand a week alone. This aint gonna happen.”

John Mosca Jr.’s returned look was more grave and serious. ”Look Jimmy, aint no one askin here. My boss said they gotta go, now technically if Traffacante retaliates its going to go to the commission because that’s our turf and your playing in our back yard. And with Santucci backing us and my Don, who’s gonna win? You’ll even lose your interest in the Atlantic City Casinos because your even encroaching there. So play nice eh?”

Jimmy dident like being talked to like that. He knew that what they were saying was the truth but he dident like how they expressed it. ”Whats in the fuckin briefcase?”

John Mosca Jr. popped the top of the suitcase and revealed the half million in cash. John Mosca Jr. looked to Jimmy. ”To replace lost future incomes. You guys can take this and roll with it. Make sure your boss gets it all, whatever he gives to you he gives to you.” John Mosca Jr. stood and hugged Jimmy kissing his cheek. ”Nice working with ya…”

He turned and walked out forcefully making his point known. Before turning he looked to Jimmy. ”You deal in H? I guess I can help you make some money by selling to ya real cheap, what do ya say?”

Jimmy did deal in H, a nice small portion but a cheap connect was a cheap connect. ”Yeah, talk to me when you get some..” Jimmy returned to looking at the table as the New York mobsters walked out. John Mosca Jr. got on his phone dialing John…

”It’s on..” John Mosca Jr. told John Mosca and John Mosca nodded. He hung up and began making calls of his own…..

[Chapter Three: “War with the Carpenter Street Gang..”, Section One: “It aint Gizzle Grizzle..”
Location: The Ace Bar, Brooklyn NYC]

The two hitmen for the first job were Marquell and his understudy Leroy. They had arrived to New York a day ago and sat around in the basement of Kuratko while the word was being put out. When they got their marching orders for the first hit in the war they proceeded to prepare. Each would use a Taurus raging bull pistol for the attack. They would shoot the cocksucker as he emerged from one of his hangouts and make it very bloody and messy.

Getting inside the Lancer Evo that John Mosca had provided from the warehouse they checked their weapons making em ready. Their weapons would never have prints because no one ever touched them without gloves. The duo slid the clips into the weaponry after coating each bullet with Garlic Oil. The oil made the bullets slide out faster and even when it hit someone if the bullet dident kill, the victum would die from blood poisoning.

The duo sat in the car discussing the hit for the night. ”Allright we gotta clip Antonio Grizzle. Grizzle is known to hang out at several places the Ace’s being one of them. That’s where we hope to find our guy tonight. This is what he looks like.” Showing Leroy his picture which had been obtained by Gene, ”We hit him and make it bloody. Let’s get it goin..”

Marquel backed out and began the drive towards Brooklyn, first target of the war was about to unfold..

[2 Hrs Later]

Griggs was walking out of his hangout with his girlfriend on his arm. A cigarette in one hand and his other arm around his bodacious girlfriend. The minutes turned to seconds as the hitmen stared out of their cars down the block. Placing on the ski masks and glasses, they made sure no one would know them. Opening up the doors and closing them slightly, they began walking down the street. Leroy was nervous as hell but the promise of fifty grand for a weeks work was what kept him here.

Walking down the street they looked at Antonio who was busy grabbing ass and looking at breasts. They took out their silenced Taurus’s and aimed them at his chest. ”Eh foo, heres a little message from the Sugar Hill Syndicate.”

Antonio looked up his eyes filled with fear for this had been the night he left his guards at home. He wanted to cry, beg and plead for his life but designed within himself to run. Running backwards leaving his girl like a coward Marquel aimed his gun at the woman.

*~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* The shots hit the womans face as she fell backwards. The last pop entering her brain sealing the deal. Antonio looked back just in time to see the flashes of the guns as they aimed at him. *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~*

Antonio fell backward as the shots hit his chest and head. Rushing over Marquel stood over him and nodded. Leon the young killer stepped up and aimed his gun at the man’s face. *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~*

Antonio was now a dead man. Rushing down the blcok they quietly get inside of their EVO and drive off. The street black, cold, and silent no one would know Antonio’s fate for a good fifteen minutes, just enough time to be back on the freeway headed to Atlantic, City…

[Chapter Three: “War with the Carpenter St. Gangs”, Section Two: “Rock and Roll”
Location: 12th and Carpenter St, Brooklyn, NYC]

Curtis and Fred two of Marquel’s gunmen had been assigned the next hit in the Carpenter St. Gang war. They would hit the second in command, a man notorious on Brooklyn’s streets. Nathaniel “Rock and Roll” Williams was a gangster to the core. A man who once braved a gunfight with six rival gangsters putting them each on their backs by himself. Known as a live wire he earned the name Rock and Roll willing to hit anyone, anybody, anytime as long as it helped the gang.

Curtis and Fred would first need to steal a car and then use it to find Nathaniel. The first task came easy for Curtis and Fred. Waiting till it was dark they walked around the streets of downtown Atlantic, City staying in the shadows and avoiding light as much as possible. Walking down a street they found a young woman in her early twenties approaching her Nissan. Placing on Ski Mask’s and dark sunglasses they watched her every move. They watched as she took out her keys walking up to the door. Walking up behind her, Curtis the bigger of the two placed his hand around her mouth and his other arm around her. She tried to scream yet it was muffled and halted.

Fred pointed the gun at her face and she stopped moving out of fear. Dragging her to the shadows they took out a knife and began cutting parts of her clothing. Using the strips of clothes to tie her hands and feet and a gag over her mouth. Taking her keys, Curtis unlocks the door and then the trunk. Rushing her over, they place her in the trunk of the car and close it. Taking off the Ski Mask’s they placed the key in the ignition and headed out.

[3 Hrs Later, 01:14 AM]

The car drove through the streets of Brooklyn and soon they were looking for Rock and Roll. They continued driving up and down Carpenter street till they saw a group of young hustlers on a corner peddling drugs. As they looked closer they noticed that Nate was amongst the hustlers, talking and counting money.

Curtis drove up the block some more and then turned down the street. Turning around on a cul-de-sac he came back towards the gangsters. The gangsters saw the lightless car and knew it was a drive by. They began to scatter in many different directions yet Nathan fitting his profile stood strong with his gun out. The car sped up and Fred rolled down the passenger window. Using a HK MP5 he began blasting the fast silenced rounds at Nathan. Nathan took two to the chest and leaned back, *~*Pift*~* *~*Pift*~* He looked at Fred and began blasting with his own Desert Eagle. *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* The eagle’s bullet hit Fred in the arm as Curtis stopped the car. Fred jumped out and aimed the HK at Nathan spraying his body up and down filling it full of lead. The body was dead before it could fire more shots.

Unlucky for Fred one of Nate’s associates decided at the last moment to become a rider and ran out guns blazing. He hit Fred in the back of the head dropping the man instantly dead. Curtis put his foot to the metal as he drove off sad to see his homeboy fall to the hail of bullet fire…

[1 Hr Later]

Parked in an abandoned house Curtis walks around to the back of the car and see’s the woman still alive yet passed out from the Carbon Monoxide. He begins taking off his clothes and places them inside of the trunk on the woman. He then dresses in a nice jogging suit and sneakers brand new from the mall. He places the small bag with C-4 inside of the car and closes the trunk walking away.

Walking down the street he waits at a bus stop for five minutes before the bus comes. Taking the bus over to the Subway he hops a train headed for Atlantic, City. As the train lef the city the car explodes as the C-4 timer winds down. The woman, clothes, and murder weapon incinerated instantly as the explosion tore up half a city block. Curtis was headed back to Atlantic, City alone after one of his soldiers had fallen….

[Chapter Three: “War with the Carpenter St. Gangs”, Section Three: “Bop Daddy”
Location: The Home of Billy “Bop Daddy” Fairbanks, Brooklyn NYC]

After the fall of Fred Scott in the battle of Brooklyn over the Carpenter St Gang, Marquel decided to go on the next hit alone. There target was an older man everyone knew as Billy “Bop Daddy” Fairbanks. He had been a member of the original Black Mafia of Philadelphia and his son ran the JBM. He was selected to fall in the Carpenter St Gang war because he was the only one who could still unite all the youngsters together. He and he alone had the respect of them all.

The hit would be accomplished at the man’s home in Brooklyn NYC. This one would be silent, the Sugar Hill Syndicate was already making loads of noise with the hits on Rock and Roll and Grissel. This one wasent a message but about necessity. Marquel and his two men he was taking on this, Jamal and Jeffrey were all dressed in black suits. They all had suitcases which hid the HK MP5’s they would wield. They each wore BowTies, knowing that to the neighbors black men in bow ties would not look odd. You see, Bop Daddy was a member of the Nation of Islam, a Captain of the FOI in the local mosque.

The three men knocked on the door and stood and waited for “Bop Daddy” to appear. The elder gangster approached the door wearing a black suit and a white bow tie himself headed to a meeting at the mosque. As the door opened he saw the three men and smiled. ”Can I help you brotha’s?”

Marques stepped forward smiling. ”As-Salaam Ailukum. Yes, I’m Assistant Minister Saladin Ayubi-Muhammad of the Cincinatti Ohio temple. Minister Jamal Muhammad is in town speaking at your mosque today and he wanted us to discuss security with you. Is that alright brotha.”

Bop Daddy showed the men inside and kissed his lovely wife who had on a white skirt, white blouse, and a white head covering like all black muslim women. Marques placed his suitcase down and opened it. Moving the papers on top he brings his HK MP5 up quickly.

”What da fuck is going on?” Bop Daddy asked reaching for something in his pocket not finding it.

”My brotha, some fear you want to help merge the JBM and Carpenter Street Gangs, were here to make sure it dosent happen. As Salaam Ailukum.”

*~*Pift*~* *~*Pift*~* *~*Pift*~* The bullets began spraying and entered Bop Daddy’s chest and cranium. His wife screamed for a second before the second hail of bullets were unleashed. *~*Pift*~* *~*Pift*~* *~*Pift*~* The bullets entered her chest and head sending her back.

”As Salaam Ailukum..” Marques said with a smile as he walked past Bop Daddy spitting on his face. The gun back inside of its suitcase he taps his two unused assistants on the shoulder. ”Let’s go..”

They walked out of the home and locked the door behind them. Walking down the stairs they walk out to the Lincoln Towncar rental and got inside. Driving off they headed for an unknown location to get more orders…..

[Chapter Three: “War with the Carpenter St. Gangs”, Section Four: “Last Warning Shots…”
Location: 20h and Carpenter St, Brooklyn, NYC]

The Carpenter Street gang was in disarray. Its major leaders dead, Bop Daddy dead no one knew exactly what to think anymore. The JBM would make its move first to consolidate the gang into it’s organization but the Sugar Hill Syndicate knew better. They would send a warning shot to let the Carpenter St. Gang know not to trust the JBM.

The afternoon was sunny in Brooklyn yet a bit chilly. And while three of its most powerful leaders had fallen, Chaz “C-Murder” King still held his ground. This was his corner and he had plans of his own. He would show the rest of the gang how bold and fearless he was in order to get them allied to his side. The plan was sound to a point, and so he continued out on his corner pumping. Selling rocks and packets of White Bitch (Heroin) to his regular customers. However without a steady supply he knew it would be days before he was out. That was allright though, finding a connect was easy on the east coast.

Chaz had about five of his men out with him each armed with steel in case something popped off. He looked around the corner as an addict came by. ”Wars don’t stop the crack fiends.” He smiled as he gave the woman a hit of crack in exchange for a twenty. A group of black males walked down the street headed towards Chaz and his click.

Chaz went to pull out but the males dident react. Chaz decided to wait trying to see if they were friend or foe. Nassire Jones lead the group of black hitters as they walked up to Chaz. ”Eh wsup, Bryan Fairbanks sent us over. The JBM is ending your alliance with us.” The gangsters who were really wanksters around Chaz began run. The men took out weapons. ”A gift from the JBM!”

Chaz pulled his heat quick and began firing. Firing into the direction of the coming people walking towards him. The bullets struck one of the guys in the chest and he fell back. *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* Nassire opened up with his heater. *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* Chaz was hit twice in the chest and fell backwards. Nassire and three other thugs quickly ran over to Chaz. *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~*

The man in the hit team who was hit in his chest arose from the ground and shook himself off. Looking over to to Chaz he spat in his direction then tapped his bullet proof chest. They ran off to the waiting Caddilac Escalade and it drove off. The men began driving out of the neighborhood and resumed normal speeds.

Driving out of the city they headed up to Upstate New York to where John Mosca had a guy who compacted cars for him. The last person in the Carpenter Street Gang had fallen….

[Chapter Three: “War with the Carpenter St. Gangs”, Section Four: “Consolidation”
Location: Ace’s Bar, Brooklyn, NYC]

The gang had been asked to assemble together at the bar by one of its oldest members. Rick “Rick James” Lang had asked the gang to meet together to hear a proposal from a new leader. This leader had given Rick James fifty grand just to get everyone at the meeting and they would handle the rest.

They looked at the door as it slid open. The gangsters walked inside of the bar and smiled. It was none other than Sam Christian, Gene Hearn, and Louie Ali. The Carpenter Street gangsters had been at war in the past with the Sugar Hill Syndicate. They never liked the idea of Harlem nigga’s coming down to Brooklyn to peddle their shit. But now they were here and there very arch enemies walked into the room. Still the resolve and strength of the gang was at an all time low due to a morale drop with the death of three of its most powerful leaders and one up and comer.

Sitting down before the men Gene Hearn took his hat off and smiled. Gene was a former member of the 20th and Carpenter Street gang. He had left it because of its boxed in vision to just sell nickel and dime dope. He had a desire to be bigger and that’s why he went up north and with his friends founded the Sugar Hill Syndicate. ”Evening gentlemen, all of you know me. I’m Gene Hearn, you used to call me G-Rock but that was before I had vision.”

Gene took out a ciagerette and placed it to his lips. ”My niggas, I call you my niggas cuz I got love for you. The JBM fucked you over. The JBM fucking skunked your friends. The JBM want the whole city, they want the entire dope route. And so those greedy mothafuckas and their jewish backers sent hit men into your city and fucked yall up. Yall cant fight back, what, how much money yall have? Twenty Grand? Twenty Grand don’t fight no wars. When those Wop’s went to war up in Atlantic, City and New York they put down millions. And the JBM with those Jew’s backing them have the same amount. They can crush you with their wallets. They can afford to bring OUT OF TOWN hitters in to fuck wit yall. Yall got two options.. You can join us or you could join them. Naturally I want you to join us why? Because we have a serious distributor giving us those bricks at a low price which means MEAN profits for us. We got the guns, we got the money and we’ll fight JBM for you. Yeah you heard me right, we’ll fight JBM for you. We want you to lay fucking low, take a break. We got cash for each one of you. Within a weeks time we’ll have taken JBM apart. The choice is yours. Either your with us or your with them..”

Gene stopped talking and inhaled on his cigarette. One of the young men in the room stood. ”If JBM hit us, why they hit Bop Daddy? I mean that’s Jo Jo’s dad.”

Sam Christian decided to answer this question. ”They want you to belive its us. Jo Jo is hooked on that shit. He’s so coked up he wants money and turf, that’s it. Whacking his dad puts you at war with us so he can go about picking off one of you at a time.”

Another gangster stood. ”Eh, I was wit Chaz when he got popped. They were from JBM allright, we know it.”

Gene stood and opened up a suitcase. ”For you fifteen remaining members we have twenty grand each. Take the cash, lay fucking low for a week. Let us handle the JBM, next Monday yall come to work for us. We already got the product, we’ll all be back on top by the end of the night. Now if you don’t want to join us, stand and fucking leave like a man. Don’t be a bitch and join cuz your scared. We wont touch you that’s my word, but we wont protect you from JBM either. Its up to you?”

Gene had made a good speech and there was silence around the room. When Rick James walked up and took his envelope the rest of the gang became bold and stood taking theirs as well. Gene purchased a round on the house for everyone, and they drank getting to know one another. Gene took out his phone and dialed John Mosca Jr.’s secure phone…

”It’s done, start phase two…”


[Chapter Four: “Taking apart the JBM”, Section One: “”Rothstein’s Demise..”
Location: Rothsteins Bagel, Brooklyn. NYC]

John Mosca Jr. “Johnny “Little Tiger” exhaled from his cigar smoke as he sat in the car across the street from the Bagel shop. It was well after Ten PM and the Rothstein brothers were there counting the take from today’s horse action. This would be the only hit that the Italians would ever be involved in. This one had to be done by Italians. For the Sugar Hill Syndicate to do this hit would leave them open to Trafficante repercussion. However if the Italians did it he knew it was happening and would take the half mil and call it a wrap.

Joey and John would take care of this hit. They were two of John Mosca Jr.’s best gunmen and would easily be able to handle the Rothsteins. Walking over to the back door they knocked on the door a few times. They sat and waited as a man approached the door. The big muscle bound freak looked over to John and Joey and smiled. ’Bagel Shop’s closed fellas. Get da fuck outta here.”

John smiled. ”Look were from Jimmy, y’know Jimmy Black? Miami? The ones protecting your fucking boss. Tell em that Jimmy sent us up here to collect the fucking tax.”

The muscle bound guard dident care as he stared at em right back. ”Collections arnt until the first of the month.” The guard took out a radio and depressed the talk button. ’Yeah, boss I got two men here. They say there from Jimmy Black.” The jewish man on the other end scolded the thug. ”Jimmy’s guy’s arnt due till the first..” The thug looked at the guys and then at the radio. ”That’s what I said, but they say that Jimmy sent them now.” There was a sigh and a cough.. ”Bring em down.”

The guard opened the door wide and let them inside. He then took the lead and took them down the stairs and to a door. Before opening the door John made his move, taking the black jack out of his pocket he thumps the guy over the back of the head knocking him out instantly. (Whispering) “John take his fuckin gun.”

John leaned down and took the mans weapon before screwing the silencer on his. Placing the barrel of the silenced gun to the man’s temple he squeezes the trigger.
*~*Pift*~*

Opening the door the two Jew’s looked up and saw the armed men walk into the room. John smiled as one of the Jew’s jumped up reaching for a pistol on the table.

*~*Pift*~*

”You gonna try something too? Or shall I shoot you where you sit.” John smiled as he aimed at the man sitting in the chair. Joey walked inside with his gun drawn after checking the rest of the place for any other people. ”It’s clear..”

John aimed at the old Jew who screamed. ”I’m WITH JIMMY BLACK!” John walked over with his pistol and put it to his forehead. ”Ya Ya, Jimmy fucking knows about this move. Don’t worry, Jo Jo and the rest of those mooks will join you soon.” He then squeezed the trigger ending the Jew’s life. *~*Pift*~* Turning to Joey. ”Eh, let’s get da fuck outta here, I’m fucking hungry.”

The two hitmen walked out of the Bagel Shop weapons placed back in their coats. Walking over to John Mosca Jr. they got in the back seat and passenger seat. John Mosca Jr. looked over to John. ”What took so long?” They all laughed as the car started and headed off for home…



[Chapter Four: “Taking apart the JBM..”, Section Two: “Excuse me Mr. Jo Jo”
Location: Club Hollywood, Atlantic, City, NYC]

The JBM were preparing for a war that they knew was inevitable. The big part was not knowing who it was with. They watched as Carpenter Street got wiped off the map and then its members disappeared. They watched as Bop Daddy, Rock and Roll, and Grissel had fallen.

Jo Jo had never really known his dad until he became a full fledged criminal himself. It still made him hurt that he had lost his father. And now in a drunken stooper he tried to get a grip of himself. He dident even know who or what he was fighting, maybe it was the demons inside. The club was packed even though most blacks had tended to avoid going out to known JBM hangouts this weekend. The reason being, you may end up dead because of someone after them.

Still dident stop Jo Jo from drinking and trying to party. The girl he was with tried to arouse him and please him but even that was futile. His thoughts were on his dad and his gang. A crew of five gangsta’s surrounded him eNYCoying the free drinks and weed as they got a chance to party with Jo Jo the man they were supposed to protect. The party would last a few hours but something else was already in the mix…

[Meanwhile….., Hit Team Safehouse]

Marquel was sleep when the phone rang. He picked up the secure cell phone and placed the small device to his ear. ”Ello?”

The voice on the other end was John Mosca Jr. calling from a payphone. ”The Jews are gone, finish the job. Fries is out on the west coast go get him.” The phone went dead and Marquel looked at the receiver. The coded message meant that Jo Jo was at Club Hollywood. Out west meaning Club Hollywood and Fries was Jo Jo, like Jo Jo Potaties.

Marquel arose and walked out of the room. Walking into the next room he tapped Leon on the shoulder. ”Time to go to work..”

Leon arose and looked up to Marquel. He then stirred and began moving to get dressed. The time frame was limited and Marquel hoped his plan would work….

[1 Hr Later]

Marquel arrived to the club and walked up the sidewalk. The thing about some black clubs were that if you showed up late the Bouncers were slack. Walking up into the club the bouncers dident even pat him down which was a good thing. Tonight’s operation would require finesse something that Marquel had a lot of.

The music was bumping as he walked around the club. “Window Shopper” was the jam of the night and people were reciting fifty’s lyrics with precision. Looking at the bar he notices the five guys with Jo Jo and begins to plan. Walking over to the bar he looks at the bartender. ”Henessey.” He looked to Jo Jo and then looked around the bar. There was an exit to the rear of the bar and slowly the plan came together. He would use the Taurus which was in the small of his back, it would be loud and cause a panick, giving him time to run out the back.

Taking out his Cellphone he texted Leroy who was waiting in the car telling him to wait with the car at the end of the alley. When Leroy texted him back saying he was there he knew it was time to get to work. Placing his hand under his coat he drew his Taurus quickly and began firing. *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* The five thugs next to Jo Jo went for their weapons in their drunken stooper, two got hit while another two attempted to fire back. *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* One bullet grazed Marquel’s hand and the others missed, he resumed firing on them. *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* Hitting them in the chest and head.

Jo Jo so high an stoned tried to get up to run, but as he did Marquel aimed for him. *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* The bullets hit Jo Jo in the chest and head. Marquel walked over to finish the coup de grace. *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~*

The club was in a panicked mode as two hundred people tried to get out. They were running over each other and everything. Marquel walked to the back door and fired at the door lock. *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* The door swung open and he ran down the ally refilling a clip. Jumping inside the waiting Lancer Evo Leroy puts the pedal to the medal as they smash out heading for a lay low house out of town….

[Chapter Four: “Taking apart the JBM..”, Section Three: “Pimp Down….”
Location: Downtown, Atlantic, City, NYC] [1 AM]

Mark Jenkins was another leader in the JBM. His job was to run the prostitution game for the crime group. He had thirty girls working Atlantic, City’s circuit for him every night and besides drugs, Girls made the JBM substantial money. Mark the Mack was driving down the track the section of town where the girls worked constantly. The girls were put up in Hotels, paid small money, fed, and kept looking good. In return all the money came back to the Mack.

The pimp approached his next stream of girls who were looking for him to give him their hourly drop. As he drove up and rolled down his window the girls started talking. ”Hey daddy..” Mack smiled as the first girl handed him fifty bucks, ”Good girl precious, give daddy a kiss.” She kissed his cheek and allowed he next girl to walk up. ”Here ya go daddy..” She handed him a ten and some ones. He looked at her. ”Bitch what is this? McDonalds money?” He went to slap her and she looked back him. ”I’ll do more tonight daddy..” He made her walk on and the next girl approached the car. ”Hey sugar daddy, heres your end.” She handed him a nice wad a couple twenties and some tens. He looked at her and kissed her cheek. ”Good job sugar, take an hour off okay baby?”

As he was talking he never noticed the four guys who had walked up to his driver window. One of the girls screamed and the Pimp looked her in the eyes. ”Whats wrong with you bitch?” The shotgun made a huge *~*BOOM*~* As it hit breaking the windows and blowing half his head off. Two other guys rushed around and opened up fire on the girls with their pistols. *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~* *~*POP*~*

”Rockabye baby..” Said one of the hitters as he spat on Mack the Pimp and ran off. The trio ran down the alley where a Lancer Evo was waiting on them. Driving out of the city and away from the scene they head to Rochester to get that car crushed………..

[Chapter Four: “Taking apart the JBM..”, Section Four: “You can run but you cant hide….”
[Atlantic City]

After the fall of Jo Jo and Mack Daddy the last member of the JBM leadership decided to lam it. He held a meeting with the second tier leaders of the JBM informing them to hold the drug routes down while he sought after help. He really wasent seeking help, just seeking to be a pussy laying low until things cooled.

The dissension within the JBM ranks was already starting to grow. The JBM had allies within the Folk’s Nation that could be called upon but instead Julio“The Ese” Rodriguez was busy laying low. The JBM began making their own plan for breaking apart while their leader hid.

[Atlantic, City, NYC]

John Mosca Jr. receives a phone call from a good friend of his. The kid worked at Caesars Palace, Atlantic City as a Manager a job which John Mosca Jr. had helped him obtain. The kid was no dummy, he followed the streets and even wanted to become a member of the mob. As he worked that day and went over the guest lists at the hotel he found some information that may score him points with local bosses and so he made the call… ”Hello, Ralph?” Ralph placed the phone to his ear. ”Hey kid, how you doin?”

The kid smiled and looked at the guest ledger before him on the computer. ”Great, I don’t know if you could use this information but Julio Rodriguez just checked in here. It seems someone is taking apart JBM and I thought maybe if you knew those people and told them that information it could be worth somethin ya’ know?”

John Mosca Jr. smiled and wrote the information down on a pen and pad. He then looked at his watch and then back at the wall. ”Thanks kid, I know someone who could use this. Stop by the club next time your up here, I’ll have somethin for ya. Take care kid and thanks for the info.”

John Mosca Jr. hung up the phone and dialed Marquel, it was near the end and John Mosca Jr. couldent be more happy……

[2 Day’s Later, Caesars Palace]

Marquel and Chris a hitman used on the Chaz King murder arrived at the door of the Hotel. Knocking on the door they wait for an answer from inside. Not hearing an answer they knock one more time. And finally someone approaches the door. The door cracks open and a woman looks at the two men. ”Can I help you?”

Marquel pushed the door all the way open hitting the woman in the face. When she tried to jump up Chris hit her again knocking her out and down to the lfoor. Walking through the suite they found 2 guards asleep on the couch, PS2 controllers still in there hands. Marquel aimed at the guards and began spraying with his silenced weapon. *~*Pift*~* *~*Pift*~* *~*Pift*~* *~*Pift*~* *~*Pift*~* *~*Pift*~* *~*Pift*~* *~*Pift*~*

Marquel smiled and walked out of the living room of the Suite while Chris watched the woman. Walking into the bedroom he found one guard awake but reading a newspaper. Creaking the door open more gently he aims and squeezes the trigger. *~*Pift*~* Hitting the man in the neck straight through the newspaper. Marquel walked over and squeezed again *~*Pift*~* ending the man’s life. Turning to the bed the still sleeping Rodriguez never even awoke again in this life, waking up in the after life as Marquel aimed at the head and squeezed. *~*Pift*~* *~*Pift*~* Marquel smiled and walked out of the room. Walking over to the woman he looks at Chris and aims his weapon at her head. *~*Pift*~* His gun was now empty but everyone else in the suite was empty as well, empty of souls and life. Walking out the door he places his weapon back in his coat and walks down the hall with Chris, another man down, the ned of the war drew neigh and his return home as a rich man would come soon…


[Chapter Four: “Taking apart the JBM..”, Section Five: “The Empire”
Location: Club Sugar Ray’s, Atlantic, City]

In a two week time span the Sugar Hill Syndicate had taken apart two criminal organizations of similar size and stature. It wasent because of them that they had won. It was because of the backing of the Capo himself, John Mosca , his money, and his hitters from out of town who did all the work. Gene had paid a man within the JBM, Caddilac Tommy to gather the troops again to hear a recruitment speech. The JBM was fractured with several trying to splinter off, all of them running into the same trouble, no product, no cash…

The JBM’s membership waited in the bar of the club for the leaders of the Sugar Hill Syndicate. As Gene Hearn and Sam Christian walked in with their men the JBM looked meaner and some even reached for something forgetting that weapons were checked at the door. ”I know how you feel, yeah we clipped your people. We had a reason to clip your people, sit the fuck down and stop wildin, and lets talk like men.”

Gene moved to a bar stool and took out a black and mild. Placing it to his lips he takes the ligher and lights the end of the small dark brown cigarillo. Inhaling the smoke he looks to the JBM. ”Jo Jo threatened my life, as a boss I had to take action. Look I’m not saying lets get buddy buddy and shit. But you want to make money yes?”

The men nodded and looked to Gene. He had rung the greed bell and they now waited to hear what else was coming. ”I can get you back on the streets pumping tomorrow. Look, if you want a war we can go to war. I got the Carpenter Street Gang, I got fucking mobsters behind me, I got the money, the muscle, and the power, I’ve fucking proved it. Question is do you want to die?”

Grumbles were heard as people talked down low. Some saying derogatory stuff some saying positive things. Gene went one. ”I got the products the narcotics for the customers homie, I put it in your hand, you start pumpin, I make money, you make money, we all make money. And in time things will heal. The Sugar Hill Organization is not wanting to murk anyone else. You all knew me years ago, you said I was a fuckin nut. Trying to be organized like the mob, well this is what organization does for you. If you get caught how will it feel to have an organization that will post bail for you? Pay for a good lawyer, and even take care of your fam when your away? Who’s got the protection to keep the Wops, Chinks, and Ese’s from butching in on your action? Who’s got the product en masse cheap? The fiends are out there and there hungry the streets have starved. Are you ready to fill that need? Then step forward..”

Unlike the carpenter street meeting many stepped forward immediately. Soon all were in front of Gene, he looked at them. ”Your now a part of the Sugar Hill Syndicate, Carpenter is now a part of the Syndicate, we allied now…” Gene began laying out who the officers were, the procedures for sales and distribution and payment, the strict drug turfs assigned to each section of the Syndicate to ensure everyone got cake and no one was left out.

By the time the meeting was over that night Gene had an army now, ready to move product….

[Chapter Five: “Money Time..”, Section One: “The Pick Up..”
Location: Club Sanctuary]

Gene Hearn arrived to the club with his bodyguards and his right hand man Sam Christian. Walking up to his friend John Mosca the two meet in hugs and smiles were all around.. ”Eh, how are you doing John?”

John Mosca smiled. ”Doing great my friend. Well it looks like we did it.”

They sat down in the club and looked at each other. John Mosca looked Gene in the eyes with a grave look and brought a cigar to his mouth. ”Hey, I’m about to give you a lot of stuff. Don’t fuck with me, bring me my money on time, and don’t try to fucking short me. Fucking with me is like fucking with your life…”

Gene leaned back in his chair. He dident feel like he should be threatened but he understood why. There was a lot of major shit on the line. Gene moved back forward and clasped his hands. ”I got this John, don’t worry. I’ll have your money in a short time my friend.”

John Mosca closed his eyes and then produced keys to a trailer. He handed Gene the Key’s and the address to where he can find the trailer. ”Three weeks, have my dough.”

John Mosca stood and shaked hands with the man. It was now time to sit back and collect the money…..


[Chapter Five: “Money Time..”, Section One: “The It all Pay’s Off….”
Location: Club Sanctuary, Atlantic, City, NYC]

John Mosca waited nervously as the night went on. Gene was supposed to arrive with his money and somehow he had yet to make it. Yawning and looking down at his Presidential Rolex he looked at the door and smiled when he saw Sam Christian walk in with six guys.

Each of the six guys had two suitcases they were carrying. Not briefcases, fucking suitcases…. The six guys approached the VIP and John Mosca waved them to his office. Walking into his office he lets the guys come in and closes the door behind him. ”Holy fucking shit, sweet mother of God!” He rubbed his hands together as the suitcases were opened one by one. John Mosca and his men began feeding money through the cash counters in the room while John Mosca and Sam Christian went to have a drink…

”So why couldent Gene be here?” John Mosca asked sipping his Long Island Iced Tea… Christian smiled. ”He says a boss shouldn’t connect himself with the money so much. So he sent me, is that a problem?” John Mosca gulped some of his iced tea down. ”No problems, just questions.”

[2 Hr’s Later]

Marco one of John’s gunmen walked out smiling. ”Its all there boss.”

John Mosca smiled and stood. ”Nice doing business Sam, next shipment in next week.” John Mosca shook the mans hand and then walked over to Marco and his men who were now holding the money… ”Send that stuff to Geneva, deposit it SSB.”

Marco and John Mosca Jr. and John Mosca Jr. were in charge as the men headed out the door, into cars headed for the airport, they had rented a private jet to send the money to Swiss Secure Bank, it was deposit time and that made John Mosca REAL happy..

[Chapter Six: “Loose Ends....”, Section One: “BOOM”
Location: Rented House, Atlantic, City]

Marques and his Crew finished packing their bags as they were getting ready to head home. They were told they would receive the last of their money today and plane tickets back to Cincinatti. As they waited for John Mosca Jr. to arrive they sat around recounting stories of hits and the war as it unfolded. Fallen members were remembered and new polished hitmen were ready to get to work in their home state.

It never even hit their minds that they were being set up. Marques had trusted John Mosca Jr. having worked with him before.

[Meanwhile..]

Next to the boiler in the basement was a bag. No one had ever checked the bag while living there, each just assumed it was someone elses. The bag had a nice package inside. Enough C-4 to incinerate the house and a radio remote detonator.

[Meanwhile..]

John Mosca Jr. walked to the payphone downtown in Atlantic, City and deposited a quarter. Dialing the number to the rental house he waits as the phone rings and rings. When someone finally answers.. ”Hello?”

John Mosca Jr. smiles. ”Hey Marquel, fuck you, we aint paying you shit nigga. See you in hell.” He depressed the button on the detonator and sent the signal..

The house rocked with an explosion with such ferocity it destroyed neighbors homes. Everyone in the hit team hired by John Mosca Jr. was dead, now there were no links to John Mosca and the hit team, and now the Sugar Hill Syndicate truly stood on its own…

[Finale]
Location: Club Sanctuary, Atlantic, City]

John Mosca was in Atlantic, City with his men about to be made. He looked down as his phone rang. Picking it up he was pleased when he heard John Mosca Jr.’s voice. ”Hey boss, that deposit is taken care of. Its in your SSB account.” John Mosca smiled knowing that he finally had his money. ”Great, hear anything from Johnny “Little Tiger” Marseca Gun’s?”

John Mosca Jr. smiled as he scratched his head. ”Loose ends taken care of. I’m gonna pick up Angelo, I’ll meet you in Atlantic, City.”

John Mosca smiled as he slapped the phone shut. ”It’s a beautiful day.” As he closed his phone shut and walked with the gang over to the spot where they were to be made…..

Requests:
- 930 Units of Heroin Sold for $4,275,000 ($4500 a unit)
- 1x NPC Drug Lord/Boss (Gene Hearn), 20x NPC Drug Dealers, 15x C2 Thugs (the Sugar Hill Syndicate) [The Drug lord and half the drug dealers were from the original Sugar Hill Syndicate, the rest were the remnants of the Carpenter St. Gang and JBM]
[Total Cash Requested: $4,275,000]

Notes:
- This work was 20 pages long and over 9,400 words long.
- On another site this netted me over twenty million. I’m asking for only four, deflation is a bitch, LOL

_________________
John "The Tiger" Mosca
Boss, The DeCavalcante Famiglia
[Armed With: 2x Beretta 85FS (2 spare clips), Kevlar Vest Always Worn, SVD Sniper Rifle in Trunk.]


Last edited by John Mosca on Sat Mar 11, 2006 2:39 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Fri Mar 10, 2006 6:18 pm 
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Intermediate
Intermediate

Joined: Fri Mar 03, 2006 12:20 am
Posts: 63
Ederption

_________________
Death Count: [1]
~~~~~~~~~~~~


Weapons
_______________

['Exile']-- Sentimentally attached Machete-Knife (Hidden in leg Sheath)
[2]x SigSauer 220 .45 Semi-Automatic Pistol (Shoulder Holster)
[2]x G36C (In Van)
[1]x Marui SPAS Semi-Automatic Shotgun (In Van)
~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brothers of Africa
_______________

[Hicks]--Mentally Disturbed Twin Warrior (Sig 220, 'Abayomi' the Machete)
[Marek]--Remorseless Twin Warrior (Sig 220, 'Nameless' the Machete)
[Tito Cortez]--Well connected arms dealer (Anything at his disposal)
[Da Gun Runnas]--Ten fouled up Gunmen (Assortments of military grade armaments)
~~~~~~~~~~~~

Transportation:
_______________

[1]x Masked F-350
~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~The Gangs all here. Sallaine, Marek and Hicks. The International Assassin Triplets


The only reason that everyone hypes up over Morals and Ethical Values is because they are the simple guidelines for what the majority of people see as right and wrong. In summary, these guidelines are nothing but an estimate for the chemical balance in your head, or how sane you are. This in itself is a view of perception. If one has the chemical amounts in their brain to step out of those guidelines, you are thus dubbed insane. This means that you are breaking away from the current Ethical Fad, and you are immoral.

But then again... it's only a fad. And they're only Guidelines


Last edited by Sallaine on Fri Mar 10, 2006 6:25 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Fri Mar 10, 2006 6:20 pm 
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Professional
Professional

Joined: Mon Feb 20, 2006 10:29 pm
Posts: 300
Location: Everhwere...
Please dont post in my topic. Heists and other roleplays are diffrent than drug deals. I had to work to get the factory, bring it over and now move it. So paisano please dont post here, its rude just let the Admin's judge.

Edit: I know i wont get all the NPC's, i may get only a handful, but thats up to the Judging Admin my main priority is the cash.

_________________
John "The Tiger" Mosca
Boss, The DeCavalcante Famiglia
[Armed With: 2x Beretta 85FS (2 spare clips), Kevlar Vest Always Worn, SVD Sniper Rifle in Trunk.]


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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sat Mar 11, 2006 8:31 pm 
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Professional
Professional

Joined: Sun Feb 12, 2006 7:43 pm
Posts: 270
Requests:
- 930 Units of Heroin Sold for $4,275,000 ($4500 a unit)
- 1x NPC Drug Lord/Boss (Gene Hearn), 20x NPC Drug Dealers, 15x C2 Thugs (the Sugar Hill Syndicate) [The Drug lord and half the drug dealers were from the original Sugar Hill Syndicate, the rest were the remnants of the Carpenter St. Gang and JBM]
[Total Cash Requested: $4,275,000]

Okay, here we go. 465 Units of Heroin for $2,137,500. The money has been sent your way, send me the 456 units of Heroin. NPCs - you get your [1x] NPC Drug Lord/Boss named Gene Hearn, you get [12x] NPC Drug Dealers and [15x] Class B Thugs.

As for the roleplay itself, it was long and somewhat boring. You used 'John Mosca' and 'John Mosca Jr.' practically throughout the job, which annoyed me to some extent. Perhaps just use 'John' or 'Mosca Jr.' etc. You also kept using *~*PIFT*~* and *~*POP*~*, again this annoyed the crap out of me. There were also a few spelling errors and code errors throughout the role-play. However, I did enjoy the back story of the job, with all the different family names etc.

_________________




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