Sixx T 9's Story

Sixx T 9 strolled into the bar wearing clothes that might be associated a punk rock star. Studded collar, faded torn skinny jeans, studded belt, colored hair, bloody bandages over part of his face, various leather bands and metal rings on his arms and around his body, the works. He had his hand up to his left ear holding his cellphone speaking to some one in a rather aggrivated spanish accent. "Oye! Miguel, You aren't listening! No, no, no, no, no! I swear to god Miguel if you show up with all that stuff on my doorstep I will refuse you and I will have you deported back to Venezuela!" he began ranting to this person over the phone. "Your familia? What about them, I don't give a shit! Your problem not mine. I still need to 'unload' five more packages of that stuff before you can send more." He continued his rant as he walked further into the bar and settled down at an empty corner booth. He fair darkhaired young man would let out a sigh. "Okay, Lo Siento Miguel. You know I didn't mean it, I'm just a little on edge right now. Just-- Just send them over when ever, I'll find a way. Okay. Bye." he said and hung up his phone. Sixx put his phone into his pocket and looked over the menu and ordered a country fried steak with potatoes okra. "Fuck this day" he mumbled to himself.

Not too far, there was a lurker not too far off watching. Waiting. He had his cell phone up to his ear and his eyes on the rather fine looking gentleman about twenty meters infront of him. "Si, I see him.... He's just reading from what I can tell.... How the fuck should I know you culo?.... It's a fucking run n' gun, just walk up to him and pop his ass then We'll be the big dogs in W-city. I'm backing you up you puto! Bitches should know by now not to fuck with the Sixx. Just walk up to him and pull the fucking trigger, cobarde!" He began ranting to the person on the phone rather silently.

Moments later a rather nervous looking hispanic young man would casually stroll up to Tristan. "Oye! You Tristan? Lemme get some 8-balls." He would say with a very thick spannish accent.

Sixx T 9 "Nah, homie, I can't wait that long, I need my fix right now!" The hispanic young man said and pulled out his fully automatic Uzi-SMG from under his shirt. He was a terrible actor.

Meanwhile, Sixx was sneaking oh so silently up to the side of the car into one of the blind spots, his pistol in his hands ready for action. He peeked up into the window with his good, well his only eye. He patiently waited for his accomplice to pull the trigger. In the mean time he moved to where he would have a good shot at the driver incase he had a weapon as well.

Sixx T 9 The young man would suddenly feel a shiver of fear run up his spine, and lower his weapon. "Ay! Look, holmes, I'm just the guy that takes the orders! Lo Siento, I'm outta here." He said dropping his weapon and running in the opposite direction.

Sixx would just stand up and point his weapon right at his fleeing accomplice and pull the trigger right in the back of his head. "Fucking cobarde..." He would mutter then point his weapon at the driver. "You move I blow your fucking head off cabr㮮" Sixx would say trying to seem all tough and shit, not every day you actually got to meet the crime lord of wing city, he had to make a somewhat lasting impression. "You too, you fucking guid." He said pointint his weapon at Tristan before returning to the driver. "I am no in the mood for shit like this today! First my supplier drops a fucking impossible load on me, then this shit! I am so on edge right now!" he began to rant.

Sixx T 9 got in the car rather frustrated pointing his weapon at the driver. For some reason he felt that the driver was a bigger threat than Tristan himself. "Okay I'm in the car, cabron. We gonna strike a deal or something?" he chuckled, yeah, from the look of his left eye, he was really flyin' on something. "You want me to shut up you gotta give me a reason, guid."

"My name is Sixx T 9. I hate the name my mother gave me." He said looking over to the driver then back at Tristan. "I got in the fucking car because I respect you, you're Tristan Provencher for god's sake. I had intended on killing you and taking your place but my accomplice bailed on me..." he said chuckling a little then emptied the clip of his piston and showed it to Tristan. "I wasn't even gonna kill any one anyways, was gonna pin it on him. Empty clip. As to who I think I am? I am Sixx, 9th street Blue Stars. Small time gang compared to your fucking organization." he said then put his weapon away.

Sixx T 9 put a hand under his chin in thought. "Keep the women, not my bag of chips. What about the profits, territory, shit like that? And pertaining to my gang? Not even mine, You can slaughter those fuckers for all I care." He chuckled and scratched his chin. That might have sounded a little brutal, but to Sixx, it was a dog eat dog world, and they didn't get to the feeding trough quick enough.

"Lemme guess, I'm essentially a Grunt. Expendable unit right now?" he chuckled though it was understandable, he had to work his way up the Blue Star heirarchy to get to the point to where he wasn't considered expendable anymore. "That's reasonable. Remember when I was a Grunt with the BS, the thing I had to do to prove my loyalty was steal a couple of kilos of coke from one of your drug vans.... I always left notes after i took em... I like leaving notes after i steal things and kill people, I think it adds to the mystery of the whole thing." he giggled slightly.

"So I've heard." he said and rolled his eye. "So, where we headed?" he finally inquired leaning over to Tristan to look out that window to get a better look. The punk rock dressed young man didn't seem to have any manners, atleast none that he cared to show. "Tire on that van is kinda flat." He pointed out leaning closer to Tristan's side window.

Sixx T 9 went back to his side of the seat and leaned against the door, putting one of his boots on the sports car's interrior. He made a gesture to the driver and sniffed. "Who's this cabron? He don't talk?" He said leaning against the forward passenger seat and looking at the man. "Oye! Habla Espanol?" he said to the man, thinking maybe he might speak his native tongue.

"Ah... I know the feeling. A guy you might know, he's the leader of the notorious La Eme the Spanish mafia, Senor Misterio cut out my right eye... then threw me on a bed of coals, just for trying to survive. Ese hijo de puta odio." Sixx said and put a hand over the bandages that covered the right half his face. "Though my story is more tragic, no offense." he chuckled gesturing at Charles.

Sixx T 9 got out of the car after Tristan. "Wow... Magnifico! You're old lady must be proud." He said with a short whistle. "Not much of a talker are you Mr. Provencher?" the young man said looking at the estate then back to Tristan.

Sixx T 9 shut the door gave a quick wave at Charles then followed Tristan into the Estate. "So... how do you get your 'Supply' into the country? I've always wondered how you get so much grass and blow in." he asked not trying to be nosy, he didn't know any better, besides he's spanish.

Sixx T 9 pushed a hispanic young man down the stairs shouting in spanish. "Oye! Miguel! Vas ahora, cabron! 'The fuck is wrong with you bringing that shit into my apartment?! I could get arrested you ass!" he shouted hitting and slapping this hispanic young man. "Get the fuck out! Te vas ahora, Miguel!" The young spazzy drug dealer picked the bruised hispanic young man off of the ground and rushed him out of Gambit's front door. The young man pleading and begging for Sixx not to do that. "Culo tonto..." he said walking over to the counter and taking a seat. "Jesus christ... like I don't have enough on my plate." He sighed putting his hands to his temples.

Sixx T 9 was sitting on a bench bolted to a side walk waiting for a bus to get here. He wasn't going to ride the bus, he was waiting for some one that was taking the bus to this location. The punk rock dressed little spaniard yawned plucked a pack of cigarettes from his pocket followed by a Chip n Dales lighter that took the shape of male genitalia. He pulled one of the death sticks from the pack with his lips and went to light it, then put away his lighter and pack. "Shit, cabron. Take your time much?" he said taking a drag then looked at his watch. "I think I can actually feel myself aging... Hurry the fuck up." He mumbled to no one at all.

Sixx T 9 saw Armand walking along the opposite side of the street and gave a loud wolf whistle. "Oooh. Hey Kitty, baby. Lookin' for some fun? Sixxy here can hook you up, El Hombre muy guapo!" he exclaimed with a giggle, followed by another drag of his cigarette. "I could be the left eye and you could be the right, sweety!" he said rather playfully and stretched and cracked his arms, neck and back.

The young punk rock spaniard gestured Armand over with a smile. He scratched the bandages on his face and took another drag of his cigarette. "Sixxy doesn't bite.... Well... okay that's not true... but come over anyway!" He shouted with gusto. His attention was then caught by another guy, who sounded like he was insulting Sixx. "Oye! Why don't you go get hit by a bus pinche puto." he said to the other person that had appeared. He looked at his watch once more to check the time. "Shit.... where is that guy? Fucker better not have ratted me out." he said under his breath.

Sixx T 9 looked at Armand and patted the empty spot next to him. "Sixxy saw that Kitty baby looked kinda sad and lonely. Thinkin' maybe you needed some company and possibly some party 'substances'?" he chuckled then turned his head in the direction of Scott. "Well depends on what kinda party you talkin', Papi chulo. I got some party materials right here, but it'll cost ya." He smiled then looked back to Armand. "So you want some company tonight or what, El Gato Guapo?" Sixx figured he'd have a bit of fun before his 'contact' arrived and asked for the 'big guns' of his supply. It seemed like it was gonna take a while.

Sixx T 9 leaned over to Armand. "What're you cravin'?" he asked with a playful smile then went to take another hit from his own cig. "Kitty kitty, looks like he has a big appetite." he said with a wink then looked over to Scott with a rather annoyed look on his face. "Well I got some 'Bama cush, Purp Haze, columbian pure, angel dust, pcp, hashish, what ever. It all depends on what you need and how much." He said with a sly smirk and a quick drag from his cig, which he blew the smoke into Scott's face.

"I got about one thousand credits worth in my van. Keep your party factor going on two weeks from now. Four or five if you make it last." he smiled and eyed the cash. "But it all depends on the kind you want. You want the low class stuff that you could probably get diseases from or that high brow shit?" He asked Scott with a raised brow. He then looked back to Armand with a smile. "Well first you need something to relax, a bit of hashish can take care of that right quick. Then... Well... I recomend we wait until our guest leaves, if you want me to say what else you need." he giggled slightly with a wink.

"one grand will get you the key i have in the van parked over there in the alley. For a dime bag, that's fifty bucks, but it wont last you very long. You do the math from there." He chuckled at Scott and motioned his head to a Black van parked in the alley not to far from the bus stop. He looked at Armand and gave a smirk. "Well, Normally, 25$ for a dime of hash... but for you... I think I might be willing to give you a 'free sample'." he chuckled and poked the Catman in the side with one of his very pale manicured fingers.

"hand over the cash and retrieve it from the van. Red case. Take what you paid for. Take more, and i will fuck your eye socket with a soldering iron and eat my cereal from the bottom of your skull. Comprende?" He said holding out his hand wiggling his fingers. "Money please." He smiled then looked over to Armand. "Oh, I am very sure." he said giving a wink.

"Do you know how to.... smoke a hookah, kitty kat?" he inquired raising a brow to Armand, then scooted closer to the kitty man.

Sixx ran a finger up Armand's shoulder. "I am very sure. The only catch is... This cant be a one time thing." He chuckled and leaned against the catman. "Not every day you meet a guy that's missing the eye you have." he chuckled.

"When i say a one time thing i mean you and me, getting freaky." he said in a near whisper. Sixx looked around a few times to make sure that there weren't any cops around then looked back at Armand.