"You know your little run in with the law cost me alot of time and a lot money right" Sincere told his brother, Demetrius, who sat in front of his desk.

The room they were in now was Sincere's home office he had redecorated to look similar like the President's oval office but with more tasteful colors. Sin sat behind his brown oak desk in his customized thrown-like leather chair looking at his brother. On the freshly beige painted walls were framed pictures of celebrities Sin had taken pictures with-LL Cool J, Keith Sweat, Teddy Riley, and many other hip-hop celebrities.

Demetrius Frazier was Sincere's twenty-one year old youngest brother and a member in Sin's organization, BMF or Black Mafia Family. He had just come home after serving eight months on Rikers Island awaiting trial for a murder he committed in broad day light. Demetrius aka D-Nice was having problems with a rival in the projects he worked at -the lucrative 1800 Brownsville Tower building in East New York- named Roc. Roc was a older guy who felt he deserved his due and began pitching five dollar bags of dope in Demetrius' building stealing clientele away. D-Nice warned him to stay out of the building, as no threat but out of respect for the man. He knew Roc's murder game as well as anybody else-the most infamous one he knew about was how Roc killed his own right-hand man and brother Dutch in front of Dutch's aunt Patricia and got away with it-.

"Yeah I know I messed up man" D-Nice admitted. His facial expressions said he was genially sorry and pissed at himself. The whispers had already started about how D-Nice was to immature to run a building, let alone a drug operation, and how he wasn't built for the streets. He heard it all.

Sincere stared at his younger brother and didn't know how to break the news to him. He had to demote him, in rank and in operation. While D-Nice bided his time on Rikers Island he and Jermaine had a private talk. Sin had already planned for his brother to continue working in the lucrative Brownsville Towers but Prime thought otherwise. Prime explained if he allowed D-Nice to cost the organization thousands of dollars and then go back to making easy money it would look like nepotism. Allot of the organization's members would probably leave the crew leaving them weak in the streets. Sincere thought heavily on what Prime told him two months ago.

"I gotta demote you D and don't even complain because I really don't wanna raise my voice...especially to my brother understand?" Sincere said, looking his brother in the eyes. Sincere had had a long day and was tired from being in his office all day.

Demetrius' brown eyes shifted to the ground for a few seconds and then wandered back up at his brother. His apparent frown turned into a half-smile. D sensed that Prime was behind this decision but didn't sweat it. He never liked Prime because how close he was to his brother.

D-Nice understood. "I understand Sin" he assured him. "Who crew I'm gone be working?" he asked, hoping it was Maserati Rik's crew in Cypress Hills projects. Rik was a Captain in the BMF organization. Being that he and Rik were practically bestfriends he would easily fit in as Rik's right-hand man.

Sincere admired the way his brother took bad news. "I aint taking away your stripes D" he explained. "You just gone give up the 1800 building in East New York and take control of Dew's crew out in the low-risers. He about to do five years. I want you to run that operation over there and work your way back up to the 1800 tower understand?".

D-Nice nodded. He knew the gravity of the situation and what kind of position he had put his brother in.

They were brothers through in and out. Their father's hustler blood ran through their veins and that was they bond. Sincere glared at his brother and remembered how D used to follow him around Brooklyn's Tilden projects-where they grew up-and begged to just hang with the crew. They had another brother, Sammy, their eldest brother, who was finishing up two years on a eight year prison sentence for armed robbery and burglary.

"Thank God!" D-Nice exclaimed happy to be wearing his stripes still as he nearly jumped up out of the leather desk chair. Sincere half-smiled as he glanced behind him at his right-hand man, Prime, who stayed in the office because he had talked with Sincere before D-Nice arrived about a meeting in a week with Silvatti Construction chairman Steve Silvatti.

"Thank God. So go out and enjoy the party I got business to attend to" Sincere said but his tone made it sound like a order. Sin didn't know whether D-Nice said thank God to the Lord or him because his nickname was God also.

D-Nice stood up and walked out of the office. Prime strolled behind him and shut the door as he left the office.

***
Prime sat down in the seat across from Sin.

"That went better then I thought it would." Prime said. He had thought Demetrius was going to balk about his decision. "Ace is on his way and wants to tell you personally how business is going in DC. You already know know that Tone couldn't make it so he sent Lil Amar with his tribute. You talked with Sid Eisner earlier, so after you talk with Ace that's it. You can enjoy the party thrown by your lovely wife Donna." Prime said as he sat back in the recliner chair with his hands clutched behind his head.

Sincere nodded and let out a sigh of relief. He was exhausted from all the talking he did today. He got up and went to the mini-fridge in the corner of the room. He grabbed two cold bottles of Moët et Chandon (he kept the mini-fridge stocked with Moet and Dom Perignon).

"You deserve it" Sin told his life-long friend as he got the corkscrew out of his desk pocket. Sin entered the gorgeous balcony by sliding open the acardia door. It was cold and brisk but just knowing they were true blue millionaires it didn't bother them. Sin popped open the champagne and watched it simmer down a story into the glistening snow.

Donna had outdone herself with the Christmas decorations. Nobody was in the backyard right now but it was fully decorated. Snowman's, Reindeer's, and other symbols of Christmas glowed with bright lights. The house itself was lit up with Christmas lights. It was beautiful. Sincere loved that he had a wife that really liked to do things like throwing Christmas parties. This time of the year always reminded him of his grandmother Florence. She always decorated the house in welcoming decorations. Sin smiled when he thought of her small frame putting up the Christmas lights on the living room windows. Family from Virginia, North Carolina, and Connecticut would come together for that week and celebrate. They would drink eggnog, play cards, and give eachother gifts. Although it had been years Sin stil

Avon greeting D'Angelo.

(Do you watch The Wire?)

It doesn't draw me in. As an example, this:

The room they were in now was Sincere's home office he had redecorated to look similar like the President's oval office but with more tasteful colors. Sin sat behind his brown oak desk in his customized thrown-like leather chair looking at his brother. On the freshly beige painted walls were framed pictures of celebrities Sin had taken pictures with-LL Cool J, Keith Sweat, Teddy Riley, and many other hip-hop celebrities.

Could be re-worded like:

Sincere had decorated the room to resemble a more colourful Oval Office. Sitting behind his desk, he eyed his brother. Surrounding and eyeing both were faces framed and hung: LL Cool J, Keith Sweat, Teddy Riley; in each of them, Sin posed as if he was their peer, their friend.

Word economy is important. If you're wanting to portray Sincere and his office as products of one another, you can arrive at that much quicker and more effectively by showing not so much how he acts in the chair, but what the photographs on the walls might tell us of him. He is a friend and equal to men of fame; that establishes that he's powerful, for starters, or packs some weight at least. In having the photos on show, he's also proud; self-important.

This guy plagarised?!

Don't start, Lompac.

FWIW - I think Capo gave some good advice, DonJigga.

He wouldn't have been the first around these parts. Where is Pizzaboy anyway?

I was thinking this as well, he hasn't posted for a while..

There is nothing harder than writing. Just sit at a typewriter and bleed.

Actually Blibble, I didn't plagarise. One mentioned it and that person was believed, hence, you all believed a lie.

Plagarising is copying. Copying all but one word isn't plagarising.

Anyway.some of them bios I "copied" had no visible copyright and so copyright infringement was ruled out. There has to be a visible copyright there for any possible court action against me. Anyway, the evidence against me was destroyed by J G and S C.

I get the idea that I could probably count your brain cells on one hand.

So if I become an accomplished writer everyone here would say I was still a fraud?

And you'd still have four fingers left over.

Lompac,

I DO know SC, and although he doesn't need anyone to speak for him, I can tell you his reply to you is good advice. You're taking this to another level; one that will not be reached here.

If you have an issue with him, take it off the boards. Life is too short for this petty squabbling anyway.

You're a plagarizer, too, DC??

Me too!

shit...Lompac has been suspended and I missed out on seeing why....

I see you got suspended, so I wasn't going to respond. But, I know you'll be back so here goes anyway. You should read what I wrote more carefully, especially the first word where I said "He", not "You". I'm impressed with the length of your post though. It must have taken quiet an effort.

But just so there's no confusion I'll speak in terms you'll understand:

Copywriting isn't what big Obama have JG and S C!?

Damn. I missed the fun.

Me, too!

There was this guy I grew to know -- he was older than me. I Sorta looked up to him -- you know. We did our first work together -- worked our way out of the old boards. Things were good, we made the most of it. During the conversion -- we ran posts onto the new boards -- made a fortune -- our Godfather too. As much as anyone, I loved him -- and trusted him, considered him my most valued and trusted friend. Later on he had an idea -- to go to a another server on the internet, a stop-over for gangster wannabees. That guy's name was SC -- and the internet board that he managed was the gangster bb. This was a great man -- a man of vision and guts. And there isn't even a plaque -- or a signpost -- or a photo of him on that website! Now he's accused me of plagarism. No one knows who gave the order -- when I read it, I wasn't angry; I knew SC -- I knew he was head-strong, talking loud, saying things. So when he accused me of plagarism -- I let it go. And I said to myself, this is the business we've chosen -- I didn't ask who gave the order -- because it had nothing to do with business!

I'm waiting for:

DC: "Where's Lompac?"

SC: Oh Lompac, you won't see him no more."

To hell with him. Where's my cannoli?

Your Pants?

No that's his foil covered Cucumber: