“Pen-ultimatum”

“You have to make a decision, Lala. Who’s it going to be?”

“What if I want both of you?”

“Both of us hell,” Forehead Swole scoffed, rebuking the impure thoughts that made the vein at his left temple pulse.

“She wouldn’t want you anyway, player; look at all that head you got. What she supposed to do with that? Imagine rubbing that thing when you’ve had a hard day; she gonna have the hard night; you clip notes, lightbulb head ass boy.”

“Ian, stop it…”

“Ian? Mister black power, your name is Ian? No wonder you’re so overly-militant; I bet you Estrella loves that.”

“Who?” Lala looks at Ian; Ian, at Lala.

“Let me show you, Lala,” Forehead Swole began to sweat in the early spring’s humidity. “Here, have a look,” pushing his phone in her face. “Ian, our cameras followed you and spotted you at La Quinta, with Estrella Rincon, the motel manager…”

“Yo, Lala…you got me on To Catch a Cheat? Estrella makes plates for the guys in the shop; she even does some dry cleaning. Her husband works with us, Raul. Where do you think I get the ceviche from, every other Wednesday?”

“You walk around in such secrecy, Ian…”

“Okay, so who the fuck is this two extra sets of neck rolls faced asshole here?”