Jump to content

hudonlean27

Member
  • Posts

    1
  • Joined

  • Last visited

Reputation

2 Neutral

About hudonlean27

  • Rank
    Newbie
    Newbie

Recent Profile Visitors

The recent visitors block is disabled and is not being shown to other users.

  1. [img]https://i.imgur.com/izt2lgM.png[/img] Upkeeping Our Turf _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Our team understood that maintaining turf discipline was about being proactive, not reactive. To do that, we had to raise capital – in quick time. How else do you raise it? By cutting up cars and selling them to our mechanic dealer. The fatter weights we collected in parts, the fatter our leverage of the shipments we closely needed to seal. Respect and control of the game was not all about the money. There was a turf guy we had to make happy, and this was the only option. So their gang formed up, and started looking for the right targets. We ransacked the city in a bid to make quick bucks in car sales. It was not just on any car; it had to be something that could fetch real weight. Hours went by and we had our targets. We moved fast ripping off the cars and driving them to the public chop shops. Everything was done very well- it was smooth. No time was wasted or left hanging. All that was done was removing every piece of every car till all that was left were the shells. The chop shops were sewn up like bustling admirable sculptures; luckily, we had our contacts. They knew us, they knew what level of material we brought in. We were able to process our parts with a minimum of delay and without any inquiries. The mechanics were great, money in their pockets, and we came out with fat envelopes. The bulk of those parts rested in our bags the same way they would rest in the consignment we were to ship. Back on our ground, the atmosphere felt strange. We have done what had to be done. There was money, there were goods, and there was prestige-all of these merged. Our turf broker gave the weirdest sort of nod to indicate that we still belonged inside and that we were still in the zone; it was the most uncomfortable place. And in this life, that's just how it goes; it's the march of civilization. [img]https://i.imgur.com/NwkgTYp.png[/img] _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Terms of Use and our Privacy Policy. We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue.