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 My Dirty Hot Angel

Episode 27

“Fuck you and your club, Magic! We out this bitch,” Crown exclaimed.

“Nigga, don’t disrespect me and my place like that ever again,” Magic warned.

Crown let out an annoyed sigh and just looked at Magic. “We’ll soon be seeing a new day, nigga,” Crown shot back.

“Don’t try me, nigga. I’m old, but I could still be a wicked muthafucka in your life.”

Both men exchanged menacing looks. Crown grabbed Chaos by her arm and dragged her out the door. “Wait till we get home, bitch. You ain’t seen shit yet.”

Angel watched Chaos leave with a panicked expression. He felt sorry for her but he knew there wasn’t shit he could do for her. He wished he had YB’s cell phone number. If YB had been around the incident with Chaos and Crown wouldn’t have gotten that far. But YB left way before Crown arrived.

When Crown and his chicks left, Magic shouted to the DJ, “Yo, now that the trash is out, turn my music back on.”

The DJ started playing Jay-Z to ease the crowd’s mood.


Rufus got the call immediately after his spot was hit by Harlem. He was on Girard Avenue, near the highway, getting a blowjob from some chicken head. Mike-Mike called to let him know that the block got hit hard. Rufus was furious and immediately rushed to Brown Street to see his block swarming with cops and news reporters.

He hurried over to the taped-off the area and saw EMT’s wheeling out bodies on stretchers and putting them into the meat wagon.

Rufus looked at that carnage with wild eyes. He had his gun on him and looked for his niggas, so he could find out what really happened. He was ready to let loose and kill anybody who was responsible for his business being shut down. Rufus knew it would be stupid to try to get closer to his building, especially being dirty. Cops were all over the place, combing the area for shell casings, knocking on neighbors’ doors, and asking questions. The cops were picking up the dead and nursing the injured.

Mike-Mike approached Rufus with a worried look. “Yo, what the fuck happened here?” Rufus snarled. “Who did this shit, Mike-Mike?”

Mike-Mike replied, “It was Harlem. I saw that nigga creeping up the block with the gun. It had a silencer on it.”

“Harlem? You sure it was that nigga?”

Mike-Mike nodded. “I saw that nigga shoot J.J. in the back and then he went off on everyone. I hid behind a car and watched this nigga just go crazy.”

Rufus’s facial expression said it all. Niggas were going to die tonight.

“Yo, gather up who you can and meet me at Magic’s spot,” Rufus instructed.

“A’ight.” Mike-Mike walked off to do as he was ordered.

Rufus walked back to his truck and made a call to YB, but there was no answer.

“Pick up, nigga . . . pick the fuckin’ phone up, YB,” Rufus said out loud. When YB’s voicemail came on, Rufus tossed the phone across the seat and started the ignition. He checked the ammunition in his gun and then reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a Glock 17. He was ready to murder niggas tonight.


Rufus parked his money-green Denali in front of Magic’s club. He didn’t care about parking or anything else. His main focus was finding Harlem, Crown, or any one of his chicks and gunning them down where they stood. He stuffed the .380 in his jeans and cocked the Glock before getting out of his truck. He looked up the block and saw a black Lexus speeding toward him. It stopped near his truck and Mike-Mike stepped out of the passenger’s side. Three more thuggish-looking niggas got out of the car as well.

Rufus nodded and said, “That’s what I’m talkin’ about. Let’s go serve this nigga early, my niggas.”

The thugs approached the club with guns in hands and murder in their eyes. They rushed past security and barged into the club.

There were screams of panic and horror when they brandished their guns for everyone to see. Women started to run and niggas tried to hide behind tables, behind the bar, and in bathrooms. The music stopped abruptly as havoc began to spread throughout Magic’s spot.

Magic couldn’t believe this shit. It was one thing after another. He walked up to Rufus and his crew and shouted, “Nigga, what the fuck you think you’re doing? Are you stupid, running up in my spot with them guns?”

Rufus glared and pointed the Glock at Magic’s head. “Where the fuck is Crown??


“He ain’t here,” Magic replied coldly.

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