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quiver!”
    “And check out my clit,” she advised, then—acrobatically maintaining the pose—she V’d her fingers over her vulva’s tip, applied pressure, and bared an astonishingly large clitoris. The nerve-corpulent kernel stuck out like the end of a mini-frank.
    “ Damn, girl! You got a cunt- nugget! ”
      “Fruck!” Sung railed. “You twop dwawer, girl!”
    And Menduez: “Dat’s some serious buena CHIT, mang! Keeler tits’n poosy, mang!”
    Highball grinned, nodding. “Good. Now make me hip to your crib so you can peel-eye me fuckin’ ya all till you’re cryin’ like babies,” whereupon the boys escorted her to the warehouse and, with great satisfaction, sampled the goods.
    And this was only days ago, yet in that short time, Highball had acclimated to the gang quite well, and she even did all of their laundry. At this very moment, though, she flip-flopped herself to the wall where a bizarre apparatus leaned. “Hey, Case Piece? What the fuck’s this?”
    The device looked akin to an industrial floor buffer that sat strangely on a long metal blank, rather skateboardish, but the “blank” possessed a peculiar pivot at the center on the bottom. The machine housed a small gasoline motor with the words ALPINE on it.
    Case Piece gulped. “That a stump-grinder, ‘ho.”
    “The fuck? ”
    “You ain’t met Paulie’n his crew, bitch…”
    “Fruuuuuuck,” Sung intoned. “They hawdkwore… ”
    “Chit, yeah,” Menduez added with a gulp.
    “So don’t never be dopest enough ta piss ’em off,” Case Piece went on. “See, they be the dudes that bring us the uncut smack every month.”
    Highball scratched her jet-black roots, still eyeing the machine. One end was clearly a grinding-wheel. “Yeah? So what’s that got to do with this…stump-grinder?”
    “S’fore grindin’ tree stumps but, Paulie? He use it ta grind people. No jive. These dudes? Fuck. Anybody cross ’em, they fuck ’em up, and if they cross ’em bad enough…they stump-grind ’em.” Even Case Piece, as bad-ass as he may or may not have been, showed signs of unease in relating this. “Say some player or jamake start trine to sell smack on Paulie’s turf? Paulie bury the dude up to his neck—no jive—and then one’a his crew, he take that machine’n grind his head off.”
    “Fuck!” Highball yelled.
    “And there was one time, see, this bagman was double-dealin’ ‘tween Paulie’s smack and some jamake’s—they stake the dude’s squeeze to the ground and, see, this bitch was poppin’ she was so pregnant. So then Paulie’s guy…he stump-grinds the chick’s belly, all’s while makin’ the dude watch.”
    Highball paled.
    “But ya know what? That dude, he never double-deal again.”
    “Fuck,” she muttered.
    “Here chore BK Veggie, puta,” Menduez said, and handed her a sandwich from the Burger King bag.
    Highball smirked. “You think I can eat after hearin’ that shit? Fuckin’ spic must be crazy!”
    “Si, cerda, si,” Menduez uttered, smiling.
    “Ya spic fuck! You dissin’ me? What’s cerda mean?”
    “Eet meens beautiful woooooman.”
    “Oh, well… How sweet!” said Highball, the compliment temporarily divorcing the smirk from her face. To Case Piece and Sung, two Double Whopper Value meals were dispensed. Then Case Piece asked, “What’s in the sack, jack?”
    Menduez grinned and removed from the sack a cute-as-a-button Cocker Spaniel puppy. The puppy licked Menduez’s face, frantically wagging its tail.
    “A puppy!” Highball wailed in delight, but there was anything but delight in the reactions of Case Piece and Sung.
    Highball took the puppy in her arms and coddled it. “Menduez got us a puppy! It can be the gang mascot!”
    Menduez laughed, then said to Case Piece. “I found out wheech house those new players creebing at, dah focks .”
    Highball didn’t receive Menduez’s meaning, yet so delighted she was with the puppy, she didn’t think to ask. “What should we name