Swerve Wrote:I started out my childhood with a raspberry warhead and a seven minute mile. I had to be diligent to survive. I scoured the classrooms for leftover warheads and sour patch kids. Anything I could find, I kept in a steel box of Buzz Lightyear. Eventually I learned how to work the system. I knew the Leibowitz family would trade three apple green warheads for two raspberry red warheads. The Ivanovs would take every apple green warhead and give back two blueberry warheads. I would then go to the Parks who would take my blueberry warheads and give me back an equal amount of raspberry ones. It was a tough business, but I managed to build myself up from the bottom and become a well known dealer.

There were some conflicts. Some groups wanted to put a hit on me because they noticed I was starting to become successful, too successful. Usually these hitmen would target my asian identity in order to knock me out of the sugar business. Everyone knows asians can't play sports and knock-out was the rule of the land. If you got knocked-out you were gone from the business. Everything hinged on a hip-sway, a push, and a swish. Luckily for me I had allies. Allies who knew their comrade was in need and helped me survive when they were behind. In return I helped them when they needed to be covered. This was the rule of the playground. A band of brothers gathering together to forge their own purpose on this cold, lonely basketball pavement.

DrRusty Wrote:is there a TL;DR?