Scalper's Barbershop

16 Cutthroat Boulevard

Black Bottom, Detroit

 Finally, enough money to buy into something that would generate some cash for the boss and some entertainment for himself. He could finally settle some from the continuous bank heists and the petty crimes that barely paid.  If it hadn't been for a few recent narcotics transactions, which, paid quite handsomely..he'd still be a good few months behind!

Sioux wandered through the street, the district of Black Bottom didn't have much at the moment but regardless, there was money to be made! What could a native do? He wasn't all too skilled at any particular trade that didn't have to do with an hatchet, knife or arrow. His tribe wasn't all too advanced as The White Man had become during these modern times.

"Ooo.." He'd pause in step as he glance upon the colors outside one of the barbershops. Blue, red and white all swirling! What was this?  He'd take a few steps closer to the window and glance in, watching curiously as the room was staffed with multiple barbers tending to their customers. One was pulling a tick from the flesh of a boy, another took a razor to an old mans chin and there was a third cleansing a man of his abscess. The operation seemed to run rather smoothly, too!

It wasn't another moment before Sioux would head back to Head Quarters and speak to CyrusTheVirus about what he encountered today. Oh the things he learned! Hair cutting, bloodletting and yanking parasites from the flesh of humans?! Too easy. Not only that, but, CyrusTheVirus had noted that the location was months behind in paying their dues. As far as he knew, the current operation needed to be muscled, turned into Con-Air property and management.

Sioux was eager for the task, a barbershop of his own? The things they did was just, amazing! He'd be able to do everything they did and he'd enjoy every moment of it!

As he rounded the corner, he'd wait until the last customer had walked from the premise. It was then he stomped into the establishment with hatchet in hand. 

"This thing..belongs to Cyrus." He'd snarl and twirl the glistening blade in hand. 

"Like hell it fucking does, injun!" One barber snapped back.

With a quick flick of his wrist, Sioux let loose the hatchet! The blade glistened as it hurled toward the outspoken man. It all happened in the matter of a second. The blade cut through the barbers slick hair, the blade skimming over the mans scalp cleanly before planting itself into the wall behind him with a solid thud.

The man quivered, urine pooling at the end of his pant leg. Fear and Sioux's message had been clearly received. It wasn't another moment before the man stumbled over and sprawled across the floor in panic! Unable to get up as he slid over the fine hairs that lay upon the floor. Sioux would give him an encouraging kick to the rear as the man made it to the door.

"Never liked that asshole anyways! Was always late paying us!" Commented one of the other barbers.

"Let's get to work!" He'd walk to the abandoned station and retrieve his hatchet before standing behind the chair to await the first customer! Would anyone like to try his special? "The Custer"..?

From haircuts, teeth pulling, splinters and parasites. If it doesn't need to be there, in you or on you.. He'll remove it!

Welcome to Scalper's Barbershop!

Police sirens filled the streets of Detroit from Corktown to Black Bottom. Behind the wheel of her car Mikala slammed on the brakes, turned a sharp left on Cutthroat Boulevard then turned into an alley. The police cars turned on Cutthroat Boulevard and continued down the street. Mikala stopped her car in the alley and took a deep breath. For a few seconds she thought the police might've seen her turn into the alley. When the coast was clear the mobster got out of her car and opened the trunk.

"Get out!" Mikala demanded and pointed her gun at the man in the trunk. "You've caused me more trouble than the contract for you is worth."

"Pl... pl... please don't kill me." The man begged as he got out of the trunk and put his hands up. "I... I... I swear I didn't... "

"Shut up!" Mikala snapped. "Those lines never work." Using her gun to point at the back door of Scalper's Barber Shop the cold blooded killer said, "Get inside now."

The man didn't say another word and kept his hands up as he walked into the barber shop. Mikala followed him with her gun against his back. She was relieved to see only Sioux and a few familiar faces in the barber shop. The killer didn't mind getting rid of witnesses, but she had enough to deal with already. She pushed the man in a closet near the back door and said, "Stay in there. If you yell for help I'll kill you and everyone you love." Threats were usually not her style, but the simple hit gone wrong had the killer off her game.

"Sioux, I have a problem." Mikala said and approached the owner of Scalper's Barber Shop. "I had a hit to do downtown. I did all my homework, followed the target for days, checked his background.... the whole nine yards. As soon as I walked into the target's office to take him out the building was surrounded by police. I grabbed the target and ran out a side door they didn't have covered. I would've shot my way out of there if I had to." Mikala paused to take a breath because she realized she was rambling. "The police chased me, but I lost them. I have to call Cyrus or Charmed. Do you have a phone in here?"

He was the associate of Sioux. He followed him to understand how this thing worked. Tupac had to admit that Sioux was pretty fucking ruthless. If he wanted something done, he would do it himself. If you got in his way, he would be fine with walking through you. Tupac had rarely seen anyone like this. Sioux was also a great leader. Tupac was able to see that Sioux had an inept ability to lead by example. He always gave people chances, if they said no that was ok as long as they didnt double cross him.

Tupac stayed quiet. He wasnt really to outspoken because he didn't make his bones yet. No one knew who this small town kid was but Sioux did. That was fine with Tupac. He trusted Sioux. When Tupac joined in this thing he scoped out all the sponsors and crew leaders. Sioux was the only person he asked to follow. Thankfully Sioux had said yes.

Sioux, is that Mikala?

Within Moments Mikala had stormed through the barber shop. Her gun was to the back of some guy. Shoving him in the closet Tupac made sure he opened the door for her. He wasn't to sure if she had noticed him but he was completely caught off guard by her lack of concern for what others thought. Whoever the man was in the closet he began to weep. Tupac felt a little concerned for the man. He might have a family and friends back home. Tupac wondered if killing him was actually necessary. As his mind continued to wander he then thought that this man in the closet could be a rapist. Tupac lifted his chair and sat in front of the closet door just making sure that there was no escape possible for the weeping fellow. His life was soon going to end perhaps in the barber shop or maybe just down the road. Tupac vowed that he would never beg for his life like this guy was though.

The Phone was on the other side of the closet across the room by the desk. It would only be moments before the cops would find her car parked right outside. If she was going to do something it would have to be quick. Tupac could only imagine what the cops would say if they found a missing person in a brand new barber shop. The headlines rang out in Tupacs mind. Reporters would cover this for days. The insanity that would ensue would be unlike anything Tupac had ever seen before.

Tupacs Mind was racing of all these things until finally Sioux responded to Mikala.

After talking to Sioux about the police Mikala went to the phone and called their boss. The conversation on the phone didn't last long. Phone calls never lasted long in case they were being traced or recorded. Mikala hung up the phone and looked over at Sioux.

"Cyrus is sending a couple goons over here to watch the block and take my car away. He told me to stay here with the target."

The killer glanced around the barber shop and noticed Tupac was one of the familiar faces she saw when she walked in. She nodded as a silent greeting to him then continued rambling.

"It was a set up! It had to be. Cyrus agrees with me. He's going to check it out and call back in an hour. In the mean time I want to question the target. Are you guys up for some torture fun and games?"

Tupac couldn't help but listen in on Mikala as she spoke to Sioux. Supposedly a few wanna be convicts would be showing up to dispose of the car. Hopefully they just don't get caught with it and turn on the family.

Mikala made a subtle nod to Tupac. Could it be that she knew who he was? She is an 'extremely well protected' capo that represents Con-Air while Tupac is just a goomba sitting in the barber shop. It was a little thrilling to see her pay notice to Tupac. He went to smile back but by the time his lips widened she was already turned back to Sioux.

"Are You guys up for some torture fun and games?" Mikala questioned. The amount of possible games that could be played in this barber shop almost seemed endless. Torture was a different word though. Tupac was not exactly a torturous man. His eyes widened. He looked up at Sioux and watched a very sadistic smile begin to appear. It was almost as if these two were meant to be convicts. Torture was the name of the game. The fun was all in watching the perpetrator squeal and give up his information. Tupac stood up from his chair. He went and closed down the blinds and locking the door. I guess the barber shop would be put off for a little while.

The closet door opened. Mikala's target hit the floor. He began to look up his eyes widened. There was piss coming from his pants. Was he scared? Yes. He was practically having a seizure with how much he was shaking. He was on his knees murmuring something about forgiveness. When Sioux and Mikala walked over to him.

He had just finished a few parasitic removals and was just about to dispose of the monstrous sized leaches and ticks that filled a bloody vial. He'd grip  at  the handle of his hatchet as he heard a commotion crashing in through the back door. What on earth was happening? A devious grin crept across his lips as he loosened his grip, seeing Mikala man-handle..er, woman-handle her mark. He wouldn't give it much thought and give a bit of a shrug as he'd return to finish cleaning the shop. 

"I take it you're not here for a haircut or anything else, huh?" He'd snicker some, oh what a dark sense of humor. Little care given to the individual that had just been tossed into the closet. He had seen it all too often now, completely desensitized to these sort of situations.

"Tupac. Watch and learn, yeah?" He'd offer a approving pat on the back before cracking that shit-eating grin as he peered over to Mikala. 

"Of course, here are the tools to my madness. What's the flavor of the week?" There were jars of flesh eating worms, insects and vials full of                                 fat buzzing mosquito! A simple barbershop all of a sudden seemed so evil. 

It was Mikala's target and therefore he'd allow her to choose the severity of punishment.