The next morning Allah's sleep was violantly cut early after being awoken by two oversized skinheaded men with a harsh southern accent.  Allah fought hard against the two men now pinning him down in his own bed, silencing his mouth with their ragged t-shirts as they worked to separate his left leg from his Right. Allah's life of crime on the outside world hadn't prepared him for what was going to happen next as he swore to exact vengeance on these men...

"Hey Jimmy, look at our newest specimen of.."

sniffff

"a fresh greaseball... aint that swell"

*Muffled sounds*

"Ain't no NightHawk here now is there now Greaseball? No more pretty lasses to talk to, No Godfather to take you under the wing?"

*More Muffled noises*

"No. You're in my world now Greasy, Ima ride the shit outta you boy and we'll see how far this dirt-track goes."

Laughter

"We're gonna Fuck you up reeeaal good Greaseball! We're gonna Fuck you u-"

It wasn't the blood splurts gracefully spilling from this mans neck that made Allah somewhat satisfied with life at that moment in time. No. It was the widened grin of Jake_The_Muss standing behind these men as his henchmen proceeded to part the mens heads from their bodies. It was the relief of knowing you'd just been witness to a man fullfilling his promise of keeping you safe and not having your ass separated by some petty thugs.

Jake begins to speak as his Henchman remove the boddies from your cell

"Hope those men didn't put you off visiting us here in jail"

Jake's laughter once again roars through the halls as he exits the cell.

Coming to terms with what just happened, Allah thought to himself, If he'd ever make it outta here alive, he'd have to repay the man, if not him, his family.

Scarfo was still recovering from two gunshot wounds when he got busted for possession laying in a hospital bed. It was a stupid mistake. He left the confines of Dope Row where it was all good to serve the greater Philadelphian communities drug needs. A few days prior he found himself a fish out of water in NY after being chased by some Chicago goons. He didn't know which gang they swore loyalty to, probably just some local thugs that were pissed at their wheels being jacked. He didn't really care too much as they lay stiff in Rick's Famous Bakery. Poor fucks. Yet, the thought of further retaliation did linger.

The M1 Thompson Barney_Ross sold him came in handy. The feel of standing there, squeezing that trigger as bullets pumped out and jacked a mother fucker up. Too bad it was Georgio who got to do the honours. He must see Barney again, he thought, as the cell door slid open and broke his train of thought.

"Get the fuck up and get out. Get some exercise!"

Scarfo had been laying down on the bottom bunk of the cell before the guard opened the cell. Scarfo made his way out and past the guard, giving him a stern look the whole way past. The guard smiled. Scarfo didn't like authority figures, especially those barking orders. Jail probably wasn't the best place for him and his aggressive tendencies.

After making his way outside into the yard Scarfo took a seat on a bench. The pain from the fresh gunshots still making things a little uncomfortable, as he squinted and rubbed the left side of his stomach and ribs, then his left upper arm. He felt a little weaker than he would've liked, and just hoped no-one would try and fuck with him otherwise he'd probably end up busting some of his stitches.

Scarfo leaned back on the wooden bench and looked around the yard, hoping to notice something more interesting to take his mind off the pain.

Jake had just finished cleaning up the mess in Allah's cell when the guards sounded the bell for "Yard time"

"Great" Jake thinks to himself

"Put a whole bunch aggressive dudes in a confined area, that's a real good idea"

Jake catches up yo the other mobsters heading out, not wanting to linger behind in case of some retaliation from those two dead beat's associates.

As Jake who wanders around he catches a glimpse of someone he recognizes

"I'll be fucked" Jake's amazement is noticed by Gino, one of the Razor members

"All good there Muss?"

"Yeah, I'll be with you guys shortly eh"

"Suit yourself, we'll be at the gym if you need us" Gino leaves as Jake approaches Scarfo.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes" Jake and Scarfo greet each other in the formal way of Italians.

"We heard about your incident, those fucks deserved it" 

Jake takes a smoke. And stares into the distance.

"Look Scarfo, I know you don't fuck around, that's why i need your help"

Jake looks around to sseeif anyone was within hearing distance.

"There's a couple guys in here that need to be taught some manners, a friend of mine nearly got his ass pounded by some fucking Hillbillies. I want their Boss dead. I know you're still jacked up with the stitches and all, but this shit has to be done today and I need someone I know can get the job done"

Jake hands Scarfo a shank.

"How do you feel about giving that cocksucker a real nice close shave?"

Noticing Jake approaching, Scarfo's prayers were answered, his attention purely focused in on the man and his recent injuries taking a back seat for the moment. In like fashion Scarfo gives Jake the traditional Sicilian greeting.

"Cuntenti di canuscirivi"

They exchanged more pleasantries before Jake began to get down to business. Scarfo enjoyed the way Jake handled himself. No fluff talk. Straight to the point, no fucking about. Respect was had, yet in a place like this you couldn't fuck about too much. Assholes were in jeopardy, and Jake reminded Scarfo of the importance of Jake's Razor Gang with a straight forward request.

"How do you feel about giving that cocksucker a real nice close shave?"

Scarfo didn't feel completely himself, yet who was he to turn down a solemn request. He casually took the shank as his eyes darted about the immediate vicinity, and slipped it up his sleeve for safe keeping.

"You know what? I've been itching to get active again. Fuck all this lying down shit. Stitches can be redone. Which ass bandit needs the shave?"

Scarfo respected Jake's ability to protect his men, and he wanted to help anyway he could. He didn't believe in this man on man love shit, and it ticked him off just as much as guards mouthing off. If he could shank those fucks too, he would. But, given that might just add more time to his sentence, he figured some punk ass Boss would do just fine.

"Point him out."

Scarfo lowered his voice. He eyed the area a moment and continued speaking when he was satisfied no ears would be privy to the coming words.

"I'll also need to make this clean. I want to get out sooner than later. If you can have someone set a distraction, I'll send him away for good."

Weav3r was just spending his sweet old time, laying in his poor excuse for a bed and attempting to sleep through the day; hopeful that this jail time got over with shortly. It wasn't murdering a man or anything like that which had forced him into the confines of jail, either. Much rather..it was attempting to bust one of his buds out from jail -- through means of violence. The bomb that had been set to blow part of the station and cause a distraction ended up being wired incorrectly, so Weav3r was swarmed with the whole department just moments after sneaking his way into the station. 

It seemed that his intention of sleeping through the night was nothing more than wishful thinking, though. While still early in the morning, one of the guards came into Weav3r's cell and gave a good whack against his back with their baton.

"Uunngh!" He grunted out, his back arching and a hand stretching out to grasp at the point which had been struck, in an attempt to suppress the pain now surging through his veins. "Da Hell you do that fo'?" Weav3r screamed at the guard and swiftly followed it by pushing his way out of bed and landing a hard knuckle against the side of the guards' head.

The guard, however, found himself hardly effected by the strike; there was a bruise that had begun to swell upon one side of the guards' face and his head veered into the direction of the punch, but both feet remained firmly planted on the ground. It wasn't any small guard that Weav3r had gone against..this guy was HUGE. 

"You comin' with me, bud..yard time." A devious grin spread across the guards' facial structure as he snatched one of Weav3r's wrists within his large palm, and began to drag the prisoner out to the yard -- all of which was done without struggle from him.

As he was dragged out of the cell and ruthlessly tossed into the middle of the yard, his wrists now restrained by cuffs, all that Weav3r could think of was what his fellow inmates were going to think of him from now on. Here he sat on the pavement, an obvious victim to the corrupt badge, and all he had managed to leave as his own mark was a little bruise across the guards' cheek.

"FRESH MEAT" The guard hollered with hands cupped in front of his mouth to help his voice travel even further through the yard. Afterwards, the guard simply turned his back and started back inside of the prison. Not a look was given back to see what was done with the newest prisoner; he didn't care.

Jake patted Scarfo on the back. He admired his attitude towards set tasks and was glad to have him on board.

"Let me think of something, and I'll get back to you with a plan"

It was at this time that Jake and Scarfo notice a guard pushing someone out to the yard. The other inmates in the yard start grouping together, suddenly the atmosphere turns tense. Scarfo catches a glimpse of one of the inmates passing a small blade to another slowing making his way to Weav3r. 

Scarfo nudges Jake and they both get up and move towards them, pacing to get the assassin before he attempts to airhole Weav3r

"We got about 10 seconds before this turns into a shit storm" Jake says 

"My boys are in the gym so by the time they hear the noise we'll already be in the thick of the fight. So i hope you're ready to fuck shit up"

Jake darts ahead and grabs one of the would be assassin and stabs him in the side, the assassin screams and falls to the ground. Jake looks around, he is surrounded.

"Come get me you cunts!" Jake yells, bracing for a counter attack from the group of thugs

Scarfo notices Jake's ballsy move and his successful deterring of attention from the fresh meat in the yard. He legs it as best he can toward the group who have now turned toward Jake. Scarfo is a stocky 5'11, 160 pounder. Not the lightest guy you want coming at him. He's also an amateur boxer with a decent record behind him, so also not the kind of guy you want to be going toe to toe with at the best of times. His recent wounds though, had him a little less free in his movements.

Scarfo swung a heavy right hook to the side of the head of one of the inmates, clipping his face and a bit of his jaw then followed that up with a solid left hook to the lower gut. The inmate bend forward with the impact to the gut and just as his head turned to see what the fuck was happening another right hook to the nose sent him straight to the floor.

Scarfo turned his attention on another who had turned to notice the sneak attack. They were face to face and Scarfo bobbed and weaved inside as best he could given his movement. He slipped a heavy right hand and immediately countered with an uppercut to the jaw that sent the man off his feet and airborn. As the second would be attacker hit the dirt Scarfo felt the resulting pain of stitches tearing from his left ribcage.

"Fuck!"

Scarfo felt the pain, and with the shiv still in his right hand tucked in his sleeve, he felt it necessary to fall back on the object if need be. He let it drop into his hand and took a good grip as he eyed the rest of the group and regathered his thoughts from 'fuck this pain' to 'who the fuck wants some'. He stood there in a fighting stance with the shiv at the ready, eye balling another guys who had turned to notice two others being out boxed.

"Come on you fuck. Come get some!"

After being tossed onto the ground and left restrained by them shiny, metal bracelets, Weav3r remained perfectly stationary in place for a few moments. As always, he was the analytic type -- the one who sat in place, cool and calculated. So the movement of the knife was easily caught by his gaze as well, but he didn't yet make an attempt to act upon it. Before all else, he needed a distraction..surely there would be a do-gooder somewhere among the fellow prisoners, or if he was lucky, someone from his same crew. 

"Ova' here!" Weaver hollered towards one of the thugs that had initially came towards him, using the moment that one of them had their back turned to his advantage. 

Just as the thug turned around to face Weav3r, he was met with a swift fist cracking him right on the nose -- the perfect angle for the bone to shove its way up into his brain and instantly result in the thugs' life coming to an abrupt end. This caused there to be no noise coming from the small incident, other than the sound of the thugs' corpse collapsing onto the pavement of the yard. 

"Teach ya to fuck wid me!" Weaver shouted down to the corpse with a maniacal laugh promptly following afterwards. Though he might be the cool and calculated type socially, it was an entirely different situation when things got down to business; it was almost as though he was a schizophrenic from the way that he took such satisfaction from killing a man with only his bare hands. 

"Who else want some!?" He shouted to the crowd with both hands - still restrained by the cuffs - into the air, as if a method to taunt his assailants. It didn't seem to do much good though, since a good number of them were just staring at Weav3r in disbelief. The fact that he was nearly seven feet high and bulking out to three-hundred pounds of muscle probably played a role towards that intimidation factor; his hulking size only now apparent since he resumed a fully upright standing posture.

The Razor's come storming out of the gym spearheaded by Gino, one of the older Razor members. Armed and ready they charge straight into the crowd of other inmates. Jake, Scarfo and Weav3r join in with the others and the fight turns into a complete bloodbath.

Punches are thrown, shanks are drawn and the screams from the wounded were enough to frenzy the rest into even more violence.

Within moments alarms are sounded and whistles blowing. The Guards move in on the fighting crowd grabbing who ever and pinning them down. Jake gets knocked over the head with a batton and falls to the ground and gets pounced on by 3 guards. They kick him and beat him causing him to cough up blood. He couldn't see what the others were doing but he was sure they were putting up a hell of a fight.

When things finally settle down Jake is hoisted up by two of the guards and dragged away to solitary confinement.

Jake laughs menacingly as he notices the broken and battered bodies of the other thugs.

"You single?" Jake says to one of the female guards, but a punch in the stomach was enough to convince him she wasn't interested.

He gives her a sly wink before being dragged off to the hole.

Allah's next few days spent in solitude of a full isolated cell, was not how he'd expected to be spending his life in Prison. A cell fit for a serial killer who'd just taken out two fat fucks and hung their heads outside his cell. Though that wasn't him, but any snitch is a dead snitch in Allah's world. Allah's dreams replaced by a one way ticket to DeathRow, 2 weeks from now.

"Hey Warden!"

Allah banged on his Celldoor.

"I'd like my phone call now you fat fuck!!"

Laughter outside his cell, the door unhinges and a swarm of 8 guards march in for their daily beating. 

euughhh 

"Is that all you got you fucking pigs! Ima gut you!"

The beatings continue until the Warden appears

"Alright, leave this scum alone, cmon, how bout that phonecall?"

Leading Allah to the communication's room, The Warden slams the door shut leaving Allah left alone with only a telephone in the centre of the wooden table.

Allah Dials a number...

"Yo Buddha, you gotta help me the fuck out here, I'm on my way to DeathRow... Fuck me. Send someone please!! or anything!!"

The room door bursts open, with the Warden announcing his arrival 

"Alright boy, no ones coming for you or your pals. Get the Fuck back in your cell"

 

At that day buddha is seating pretty in his coach and having a great time coffee with his fellow buddies, laughing and having a great time as they play cards. His phones is located at his bed and buddha dont realize that his phones is ringing, As buddha and his buddies finish there coffee his buddies seat in buddha bed and realize that buddha phone is ringing " Hey tho! You've got 3 missed call from your great friend Allah! " Buddha rushes to his phone suddenly Allah call again 

" Yo tho! Wassap?! " Allah is in a rush for something important message, " Tho, Buddha im really fuck up i indeed needs your help " 

As buddha feel the adrenaline, He told his buddy to help allah. Buddies can you help my great friend he is in great trouble right now, Will you? 

" Of course tho! No worries we can get that undercontrol! " As the buddies of buddha suiting in and get ready to approach the cell where allah is.

"WTF! Wardens, What are you trying to do!? Try to insult the associate of buddha?! " As the buddies of buddha trying to speaks to the warden as they finish talking. " Okay allah your in safe right now! Go get back in your cell and have a great one!" 

If you needed anything or something dont hesitate to call again buddha your fucking friend!. *Bounce back*

It was all out prison yard warfare. Jake_the_Muss and Weav3r had their own things going on whilst Scarfo noticed the influx of Ravor members and it lit him up inside like Christmas. That 'fuck yeah' feeling when your boys have your back and you're all getting into it and are in the thick of things. It was fucking war and it was fucking brilliant. Scarfo hadn't felt this alive since the car chase from Chicago to New York which incidentally lead to this jail sentence and now this riot. How things come back around again, Scarfo thought as alarms started sounding and whistles noises began filling the yard amongst the noise of inmates rioting.

As soon as the guards began their assault Scarfo began to rush at the guy he was facing off with in a menacing fashion whilst gritting his teeth, shank in hand. His adrenaline was at such a point the length of his sentence was far removed from his thoughts. If he had to shank this fuck to put him down he would, and he planned to stand over him as he lay on the ground bleeding and feel the power it afforded.

The guy Scarfo was rushing looked to be on the back foot, and quickly positioned himself for the impact to come. Before Scarfo could fulfil the desirable end scene that played out in his mind moments earlier it was lights out. The last thing he saw before some fuck turned out the daylight was the guy he was about to attack bracing himself.

A guard had struck Scarfo from the side before he could do anymore damage and he dropped to the ground unconscious. His body went limp and as it hit the ground the shank came loose and bounced away. In the commotion no-one saw that he was holding the prison made weapon. The guard that hit him ended up getting tackled by the guy that was waiting for Scarfo's charge. Priceless.

Scarfo lay on the ground, unconscious, whilst Jake was being carried out of the war zone. After a good scuffle between the inmates and the guards shots rang out from multiple positions in towers overseeing the exercise yard and that was enough to have things settle down. Inmates dropped to the ground, the remainder that were still about the yard, and guards got the upper hand. Some continued their assault on certain prisoners just for good measure, whilst others attended their own wounds.

After everyone calmed down and order prevailed, the inmates were marched out of the yard and sent back to their cells for lockdown. Some went to solitary confinement and some to the infirmary for their battle scars to be treated. Scarfo, went to the infirmary.

After 2 days in solitary confinement Jake is released back into general population. As he approaches his cell he is met by the cheers and roars from his fellow companions. As he sits himself down and lights a smoke he takes a look around and realises that Scarfo was missing.

"Gino, where's Scarfo?"

"He's fucked up bad Muss, his stiches came out in the fight. They've got him at the Infirmary at the moment"

"Fuck, what about Weav3r?"

Gino shrugs

"I ain't seen him yet, but he's a big guy Muss, i don't think those thugs got the better of him"

Jake laughs

"Did you see the look on their faces when he killed that guy one punch. Or when Scarfo slashed that other guy and he screamed like a little bitch"

The entire crew laughs, but their laughter was cut short by the prison bells ringing signaling everyone to return to their cell. Jake hoped the others were OK, and secretly was trying to think of a way to sneak into the infirmary and check on Scarfo.

Scarfo had been in the infirmary since the scuffle in the exercise yard. An uppercut to another inmate tore the stitches of a recent gunshot to the left ribs and a baton to the head from a charging guard was the icing on the cake. First time he'd been to jail, and as he sat on the edge of the communal bed getting ready he thought a tour of the medical facilities wasn't such a bad outcome. He got to see where they hid some medical supplies, and it might be an idea to try get a hold of something to make the Razor's time in here a little easier.

After fixing the buttons on his prison gear, Scarfo was ordered to the front of the area for inspection. After the all clear the cuffs went on and he was lead through the halls and back to his cell. As he walked past the cell of Jake_the_Muss Scarfo grimaced, let out a painful yelp and fell to his knees. The prison warden escorting him bent down to help him.

"Get up!" Said the warden with an aggressive tone.

"He's hurt you cock sucker! Let 'im be or I'ma call in a favour from yo momma. You know she owes me one, two, three thousand. Stupid whorebag!" Rang out from a near-by cell as the Scarfo held his ribs, head ducked down. The warden edged closer to the other inmates cell and smashed the baton up against the bars.

"You want some of this, Alphonse? You want me to smack you around like your daddy did when you was a little boy?"

"Man I'll smack you roun' like I smack roun' yo momma! Open the cell and find out, boss man!"

The guard got closer to the verbally combative inmate and as he did Scarfo threw a scrunched up piece of paper into Jake's cell, before managing to slowly get back to his feet and move on with a good shove in the back from the warden. As they passed the cell that had the verbal jousting the guard smashed the baton down on the other inmates fingers, who cried out in pain.

"Ah! You gonna pay for that!"

The inmate screamed as he clutched his beaten fingers whilst the guard smirked and pushed Scarfo again for good measure. He enjoyed being a miserable fuck, thought Scarfo, as they finally arrived at his cell. Another push from the guard and Scarfo made his way in and took a seat on his bed with cuffs still on. The guard removed the cuffs and made his way out, not before issuing a warning.

"You keep up that shit in the exercise yard and I'ma beat you real damn good next time. That blow to the head wasn't enough."

Scarfo smirked at the guard then lay back on his bed. The fluffed at his pillow as the cell doors shut. He hoped the others gave just as good as they got in the brawl, and were keeping fine. He snuck a peak at Jake in his cell, yet wondered what the fresh meat, Weav3r was up to.

Jake stood quietly at the cell door clutching the bars. He watched as Scarfo walked passed and flicked him the note and as soon as the Guard was busy sorting out the verbal debate he leant forward to pick up the note. It read:

"I have a way to make money. I know where the Nurses keep the morphine and painkillers. Lets take it"

Jake grinned. Money makes the world go around, even on the inside. A move like this could benefit the Razor's and with the income, bribing guards and other inmates for useful items and info could be a good start to finally seize control of the prison without anymore "Dramas" out on the yard.

Jake looked to Scarfo and gave him a nod. 

"Lights out!!"

The cell block went dark and an eerie silence filled the room. Jake flopped on his bed, day dreaming of the day when the Razor's were finally elevated to Kings of the Prison with no more enemies around to question their rule.

A new day, a new opportunity. Scarfo woke to find a new asshole needed saving. Not the usual kind of saving in prison, though. It wasn't the dropping of the soap that had the situation come about, either. It was that punk ass guard that had been messing with Scarfo since his stint in the jail started. As Scarfo rubbed his eyes he pictured in his mind stabbing a sharpened toothbrush through the guards throat, then removing it and puncturing many holes in his torso. Not a morbid kind of morning at all, Scarfo thought, smirking to himself before the cell door opened.

After making the journey to get some grub, Scarfo noticed Jake_the_Muss sitting with some of the other Razor members. His loud booming laugh caught his attention, and made Scarfo smirk. Two smirks in as many minuets, what a fucking turn around to the morbid start to the day, he thought, before he made his way over.

Scarfo gave the other men seated at the table a general upward nod as he took a seat. He gave Jake a downward nod as he made direct eye contact, showing him a different kind of respect than he had for the other men. Much like the term 'a friend of mine, and a friend of ours'. The other men were friends, yet not friends of theirs. And even though Jake was yet to be fully inducted into a family, his ability to save fresh fish from being baited into an ass ramming or gutting made him stand in the same light as a family member, in Scarfo's eyes at least.

"Jake. Now I'm out of the infirm, we should go ahead with that message. I'll be back in there to get my stitches checked. I'll need a diversion created and I have just the idea for that."

Scarfo had a good look over at the guard as he peeled back some skin from an orange. The power hungry cock jockey was giving shit to a dark skinned inmate, as he liked to do, and more so than the other races. Scarfo looked back at Jake.

"We should talk further at some point."

Scarfo kept it short and sweat, not wanting to get into too much detail with present company and also wanted to smash down the orange.

Jake takes a drag of his cigarette

"Come on"

Jake notions Scarfo to follow him , carefully as to not to arouse the suspicion of the guards, as they both lean up against the wall jake takes another drag of his ciggy before speaking

"You're plan is solid Scarfo, just give me the word and I'll give you your distraction"

Jake takes a quick look around

"I know there's been a lot of shit going down lately, but uhh, that hillbilly boss, he still needs to die"

Jake holds out a shank

"Its gotta be quiet though, we don't need anymore heat on us"