The Hell was he thinking, that fuckin Jew. He knew better than that. We never talk that way in front of them, gentiles. And there he was, Honest Goldberg, Mister Holier than thou talking shit to me. To me! To me? He knew the fuck better than that. So I had to check him.
"Honest. I understand what you are saying. But please do not speak that way to me. Please," I said. Not wanting this to happen again. And what the fuck did he do?
"Or what Mo? You gonna tell Daddy on me or some shit? I'm tired of that mother fucker. He paid your half of this company that we own fifty-fifty. But I paid my own damn way. My way. He can't do shit about me. This is my shit. My...shit! Do you understand? You gotta beef with him, talk to him. If you gotta beef with me, then I say to you, fuck you! You fuckin pampered ass Jew!" Asshole talking like a fucking nigger kike. What was the fucking world coming to? The fuck? Did he just use the "J" word? And at me no less. Fuck wrong with him.
So I looked around the room at the other fifteen people in the room, all gentiles, and said, "Everybody get the fuck out! Honest and I have to have a little pow-wow."
(...to be continued.)
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