The Seven Twenties

...party in the crackhouse...

"Seriously?"

Sugar had read over the file Cash had unexpectedly dropped onto the dining room table at least sixteen times in the past five minutes.

"A gift from Pigsty." He nodded while lighting a blunt to calm this ever-growing headache he had. "Supposedly legit, too."

The file was passed around the table, each boy carefully glossing over the words. This new gang of ex-cartel escapees posed a huge threat to the Seven 20s. From what Pigsty had told Cash, they've knocked off every gang from Hell to Houston and they were making their way north—right into Woodland Heights. After Woodland, it'd be the towns around them; Northlake, Alpasa, Winston Park, and San Mateo. Who knows how far they'd go? It wouldn't be long till they'd fucked over every gang on the West Coast.

"I mean shit, 12," Starboy scoffed half-heartedly. "They look dangerous, and we're probably outnumbered."

"You don't think I know that, dickhead?" Cash snapped at him, letting his annoyance and frustration slip through. "Fuck. Okay, look. For now, they're a non-factor."

Cig stood from the table in disbelief. "Non-factor, my ass! Are we looking at the same people?"

Boy Scout laughed, hiding his smile behind a cloud of smoke from the blunt he'd been passed, "C'mon, don't be a pussy, Cig." 

"Who are you callin' a pussy, bitchboy?" Cig replied. It wasn't long before Cig caught him in a chokehold and the two of them were rough housing on the floor like immature 12-year-olds. Seems like 'boys will be boys' was still a relevant rule.

Cash, however, was getting sick of it. "Will you two cut it out? I'm tryna think." 

"Of course you are." Boy Scout grinned as he sat back at the table once he finally got Cig off of him. "We can smell the smoke." 

As clever as the quip was, Cash ignored it.

"We gotta stay on our toes." he murmured in thought. "For now, we stay vigilant. Rack up on guns, money, shit like that. Maybe even make some alliances. The more gangs, the better; there's power in numbers."

Toothpick swirled his signature toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other as he glanced over at his leader. "Gangs like who?"

Seeing as his girlfriend was in a gang, Boy Scout was the first to chime in. 

"I'm sure I can butter up V enough to get her to get the Hearts on our side."

"The Hearts?" Toothpick questioned.

"Hearts of Spades," Starboy answered. "A gang in Northlake made up of some of the finest women on this side of the West Coast."

Boy Scout grimaced. "Dude, that's my girlfriend you're talking about." 

"Way to objectify them too, bro." Sugar shook his head.

Alas, Starboy didn't care.

"How about you objectify this dic—"

"Anyway," Cig interrupted, "Ollie's got the right idea. A little birdie told me that the girls are going to a huge truce party in downtown L.A. tonight. It's this underground club type thing where gangs get together to talk alliances, products, raids, etcetera."

Cash snorted with a humorous twinkle in his green eyes. "Truce party ex machina."

"Only downside? It's a two-hour drive."

"How do you even know all this?" Cash asked in amusement, looking over at his best friend. 

Cig only gave him a smirk in return, leaning back cockily into his chair.