"I'm happy to, Black Devil! Keep babbling and I'll blow out your other eye and stuff it up your ass!!" Allen Zhang scolded.
"He's so fierce," lamented the fat Black man. "Why is he racially discriminating against me?"
You look like that and you're calling me fierce? Take a look at the slab of fat on your face! If I weren't more fierce, I'd be overwhelmed by your presence alone.
"Shit! He even knows how many of us there are, and the route Santi takes. We've been marked!" The young Black guy panicked at once. "I told you not to mess with that guy; he clearly is someone with a background."
The others were still discussing how to split the profit from the car sale, even as someone had already come to seek revenge, pointing a gun at their heads.
Just for the paint job and modifications on that Mustang, they had spent hundreds to thousands of US Dollars, and now they hadn't earned a cent; they had been beaten up before they could even sell the car.
