Post by stonedraiders on Jul 5, 2007 14:26:49 GMT -6
Rex Vinkle: “Aww hellz yea, Philadelphia here we come!”
Blake Ryder: “Fo sho my nig.”
The scene opens up showing Stoned Raiders pulling up a street curb. The night sky is above them, glooming as usual. It’s night time, about 11PM at best. A street light hovers over the van, as they stop in motion. A caucasian man in a white t-shirt and blue jeans walks up to the passenger side, where Rex Vinkle sits. He also sports a black hat, pointed forward. Rex rolls down the window.
Rex Vinkle: “Wuts good mah homie?”
The dealer crosses his arms.
Dealer: “Yo.”
Rex Vinkle: “You holdin’?”
Dealer: “Shit, everything except coke, heroin and yo cock!”
Stoned Raiders look and each other and give out a chuckle.
Rex Vinkle: “Aight mayne, you got 10s?”
Dealer: “Put dat money on mah hand, yo.”
Rex pulls out a block of cash and slaps it in the dealer’s hand. He takes out a small bag and tosses it inside the van. Blake picks it up from the seat and inspects it. He nods.
Dealer: “So where ya guys headin’ to?”
Rex Vinkle: “Goin’ to Philly. We wrestlers, yo. Got a match for da Tag Team Titles. We gonna take out some busta punks known as da CIA. The President’s lackeys. Shouldn’t be too hard, they always rely on da Tec-9s n Glocks. We from da hood, though. We can fight.”
Dealer: “Betta watch yourselves. That president guy is weird.”
Blake Ryder: “You said it mayne. Payce, homie.”
The duo drives off as the dealer continues his usual position. They drive through the rundown hood, and eventfully, back to the highway. It’s about 1AM now, and the highway is nearly empty. Blake accelerates at a top speed. The camera zooms to a speed limit sign that says 60. Then it zooms to the van’s speed-o-meter, which says 80. Suddenly, a siren is heard from behind.
Rex Vinkle: “Oh hellz naw! Dis ain’t a good time!”
Blake Ryder: “You said it. Hide da stash.”
Rex takes the small bag from earlier and lifts himself up. He opens a portion of the seat he was sitting on, and stashes the grass inside. He sits back down calmly. A large cop walks over to Blake Ryder’s side. The cop taps on the window. Blake grins and waves at him. The cop sighs.
Cop: “Roll! Down! The Window!”
Blake Ryder: “Oh!”
Blake rolls down the window.
Cop: “You were…well over the speed limit…”
Rex shivers for a moment. Suddenly, he lunges forward and punches the cop straight in the jaw. The cop falls to the ground, knocked out. Rex calmly goes back to his seat. His partner slowly turns his head towards him.
Blake Ryder: “What in the hell was that!?”
Rex Vinkle: “Drive mayne, just drive! We got a match to get to!”
They quickly accelerate, leaving the knocked out cop behind.
Blake Ryder: “Fo sho my nig.”
The scene opens up showing Stoned Raiders pulling up a street curb. The night sky is above them, glooming as usual. It’s night time, about 11PM at best. A street light hovers over the van, as they stop in motion. A caucasian man in a white t-shirt and blue jeans walks up to the passenger side, where Rex Vinkle sits. He also sports a black hat, pointed forward. Rex rolls down the window.
Rex Vinkle: “Wuts good mah homie?”
The dealer crosses his arms.
Dealer: “Yo.”
Rex Vinkle: “You holdin’?”
Dealer: “Shit, everything except coke, heroin and yo cock!”
Stoned Raiders look and each other and give out a chuckle.
Rex Vinkle: “Aight mayne, you got 10s?”
Dealer: “Put dat money on mah hand, yo.”
Rex pulls out a block of cash and slaps it in the dealer’s hand. He takes out a small bag and tosses it inside the van. Blake picks it up from the seat and inspects it. He nods.
Dealer: “So where ya guys headin’ to?”
Rex Vinkle: “Goin’ to Philly. We wrestlers, yo. Got a match for da Tag Team Titles. We gonna take out some busta punks known as da CIA. The President’s lackeys. Shouldn’t be too hard, they always rely on da Tec-9s n Glocks. We from da hood, though. We can fight.”
Dealer: “Betta watch yourselves. That president guy is weird.”
Blake Ryder: “You said it mayne. Payce, homie.”
The duo drives off as the dealer continues his usual position. They drive through the rundown hood, and eventfully, back to the highway. It’s about 1AM now, and the highway is nearly empty. Blake accelerates at a top speed. The camera zooms to a speed limit sign that says 60. Then it zooms to the van’s speed-o-meter, which says 80. Suddenly, a siren is heard from behind.
Rex Vinkle: “Oh hellz naw! Dis ain’t a good time!”
Blake Ryder: “You said it. Hide da stash.”
Rex takes the small bag from earlier and lifts himself up. He opens a portion of the seat he was sitting on, and stashes the grass inside. He sits back down calmly. A large cop walks over to Blake Ryder’s side. The cop taps on the window. Blake grins and waves at him. The cop sighs.
Cop: “Roll! Down! The Window!”
Blake Ryder: “Oh!”
Blake rolls down the window.
Cop: “You were…well over the speed limit…”
Rex shivers for a moment. Suddenly, he lunges forward and punches the cop straight in the jaw. The cop falls to the ground, knocked out. Rex calmly goes back to his seat. His partner slowly turns his head towards him.
Blake Ryder: “What in the hell was that!?”
Rex Vinkle: “Drive mayne, just drive! We got a match to get to!”
They quickly accelerate, leaving the knocked out cop behind.