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Upon the Eve of My Incarceration

Little Riot has always imagined himself a renaissance man and a streetsmart tough. A generous observer might be of the opinion that they are more ambitions than reality: I just call him a poser.

Not to his face. He may be a fake, but he’s got friends with juice. So when I was told that I’d be taking the fall for the pharmacy job, I said nothing. It’s only six months, I can do that standing on my head and whistling dixie. It’ll give me credibility, juice of my own. And then we’ll see how tough Little Riot really is.

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Title by: Anonymous
Story by: David

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