Grin-22 had argued that @JFMAST should be given the Tibetan Sky Burial he had always mentioned, not as a favour to the deceased maggot of course, just because it sounded really fucking painful and JFMAST had mentioned it specifically as something he wouldn't want to happen to him. Grin knew that nobody listened to JFMAST at the best of times so would probably believe him if he pushed it as his last wish. Grin had even proposed to perform the ceremony himself, naturally disassembling JFMAST's noodle arms first (because that wouldn't take very long; always work up towards more physically demanding activity, don't start off with it) before getting to his pizza face. And when all was said and done, the devouring of the flesh was complete and the vultures were done, he would return to the locker room with the ground up bone fragments for the half-time refreshments.

It had seemed a perfect plan, but @HeadCoach had steadfastly refused. He maintained that an All-Star must be buried in his tie dye sneakers, ceremonial headband and full dress uniform, with a detailed account of his successful muggings stitched into the crotch, as had always been the Detroit way. Grin didn't like it; he had noted the suspicion wash over HeadCoach's face like a honey glaze on a particularly flushed and plump ham, doubting his sincerity. The fact he was right to doubt was irrelevant. The ruse had failed. JFMAST would be given honour in the team colours, and there would be no liver-pecks today for this lucky twat. 

Grin had swallowed it. He could hardly object HeadCoach's decision even if he wanted to. 12th Street was a depleted force now and wouldn't have the muscle to back him on this. @FrizzleFry was shouting to himself in the Street before all this. Rumours that his grasp on reality was becoming increasing Corsican with each passing day seemed to be gaining traction with the Motor City top brass, and Grin had no friends in Corktown either, not that he would have wanted them, what with it being the home of ginger nerds and wretched lisps, no thank you.

So accept it he must even though he hadn't wanted to attend at all. Just the prospect of chopping up an enemy was kind of appealing to him, was that so bad? No, it wasn't. He just had to make sure his grief was properly signaled. It was like LadyMacBananaFace had said to him one night during a potassium intake break, "look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent in fine-ass extra snug, extra short shorts under it". Sage advice as one would expect and words which Grin had taken to heart even since. His funeral shorts exposed a healthy proportion of upper thigh that day as proof of it. The type of strong thigh game that JFMAST had envied his entire life. The type of thighs that could crush you in round 10 of duel like a bug, for instance. 

Grin took a seat towards the back and watched the remainder of the proceedings. A woman in a black veil was placing a white rose on the casket as she wiped a tear from her eye. His seat was prominently positioned as befitted a Capo, significantly in front of the @MikeTyson's and @Wilt_Chamberlain's of this world. Associate folding deckchair seating was in the back, out of sight so as not to offend the deceased, near to the funeral home toilets where, naturally, @CancidRunt had taken up residence. A seat was provided for Grin's bodyguard too - a rare status symbol in Detroit further emphasising his importance - and The_Big_K  did his part and bled steadily but stoically, a testament to the bloody war still ravaging the streets of Bricktown. 

Today wasn't the time to think about that though. Today was a time for optimism. An enemy had been defeated and Grin knew his tan line would be around his hip by sundown. So what if JFMAST wouldn't be feasted upon by scavengers? There would be time for that one day. Grin hid his smile. Keep it on the inside, Grinny boy, he thought to himself, they will never know. Would a wail be too much? Perhaps. How about....yes....as gunfire outside signaled the likely winging of another of HeadCoach's entourage, Grin strained out a single lonely tear, allowing it to track down a pudgy cheek. Solitary. Strong. Masculine. HeadCoach nodded approval. Well, his neck fat bulged slightly, which was virtually the same thing. This was a starting 5 performance for sure.

Iron Mike was aghast when he heard the news. "JFMAST slain". He wasn't too surprised by that... The shocking part was that someone out their would defile the world famous tourist attraction the 12th Street Public bathroom by committing a murder within those hallowed halls. Who would be so low as to shoot a man when he was trying to chop a log, bomb the bowl, make a deposit at the porcelain bank, sink the bismark or perform a royal squat. Iron Mike had been waddling like an obese penguin since his visit to aforementhoned tourist attraction had been cut short by police tape & crime scene investigators. All this thinking of taking a shit had him in a real tizzy, he was as panicketh as Mrs Head Coach's personal trainer when he heard HeadCoath arrive home early from training. With 12th Street not being a relief option Iron Mike had to think of alternatives. No way was he going to unloose the caboose at home. 

A sudden flash of inspiration the funeralth home would have a bathroom for sure. Upon arrival he is unimpressed to be ushered into the poverty seats at the back with the likes of Wilt Chamberlain. Iron Mike spots CancidRunt hanging around a door towards the back of the hall. That must be the shitter...Iron Mike could move fast for a big guy so waddle runs into the back room. Once the deed was done he returnth to the funeral & note laundry boy Grin-22 looking pretty girthy in some short shorts. Iron Mike celebrates the life of the departed with all of his all star team training, he mourns with all of the rage, grief and vigor that he can muster. (Not much) he kisses the deceathed's mother hard on the lips telling her "Sorreth for your losth" before exiting the dour affair. The world doesn't stop spthining for one man, although it does feel a little darker since JFMAST was gone.

HeadCoach chubbily addressed the gatherers. 

Gentlemen, first things first: your performances in the customary 5 on 5 memorial scrimmage were excellent. I haven't seen a dunk that solemn since Touch_Of_Evil at the end of a cookies & milk snack-off. Standing here today, mourning the fact that the 12th Street Public Toilets are closed for forensic cleaning, it is as good a time as ever to recall the man who was not responsible for the victims death, Juslooking:

To: Grin-22
From: Juslooking
Sent: May 19, '22 04:06
Subject:

Welp just need to make a fake WS and wack one of sunrises guys. I'll join his crew and someone can wack me so he gets executed ;)

His ability to concoct a sinister plan was thwarted by two significant shortcomings: the inability to complete any of the steps required to complete it and the fact that he decided his best choice of ally and confidante was a man part of the organization he conspired to damage. It is sort of like going in for an easy lay-up but instead passing the ball to the other team and setting yourself on fire. 

After squatting JFMAST's casket 12 times and easing Wilt_Chamberlain's excellent defense off with a pick & roll, we were able to successfully dribble his corpse into the team burial site, where he will rest alongside fellow lost mafia basketballers Gazzs, Gazza, JFK_Jr, and Shaquille_ONeal. 

Rest in Peace.

In his honour, I would like to suggest that a newspaper be introduced here in the streets. 

Keeping people up to date with the latest happenings in these our streets as well as taking in the public opinions on the things that are happening here. 

The greatest leader that NY has seen for generations has also stated, being the fun loving guy that he is, that he would like to run numerous events, raffles and lotteries. 

Does anyone have any thoughts on this? Anything they'd like to see included, anything they'd like to see avoided and if there is anyone who would like to help - write an article maybe? 

Grin looked up from his seat. This was the weirdest eulogy he had ever heard and quite some time after the body had been removed. It was questionable why Grin was even still sitting there, but sitting there he was, listening to StringerBell use the belated wake to trigger a debate. Unorthodox for sure. Still if you could make a story out of the great "When Beauty is the Beast" debate, he guessed you could make a debate out of a funeral. 

"I would like to see any articles about Detroit avoided, Stringer and about me specifically. There is already one hack journalist writing about me and Detroit as a whole, and it needs to stop. Well, I guess it kind of has stopped as the boy appears to have pulled a hammy on his second issue. So just don't start up again, ok?"