Hail Mary

"Dude, it just ain't fuckin' right. Fucker lucky he die, I woulda killed him good-"

"Excuse me-"

Donte looked up over his shoulder into the old woman's frowning face. He raised his eyebrows.

"Please mind your language, young man. There are others here who would not rather hear-"

"Are you fuckin' talkin' to me, you old bitch?"

"Listen, young man-"

"No, you listen-" Donte looked the woman's brown habit up and down in a glance and grinned. "You stop molestin' kids, I'll stop cussin'-"

"That's it-"

"Sister Mary-"

She turned around. "Father David, I have this under control-"

"You have what under control?" said Donte. "Listen, bitch. One of our friends just got murdered. We here to mourn-"

"At the mall?"

"At the fuckin' mall-"

The nun looked down, then back up at Donte. "I'm sorry about your friend, but using that kind of language is no way to mourn him-"

Donte stood up and approached the nun, towering over her as he spoke. "So now you tellin' me you know my friend better than I do?"

"No, I just-"

"You just nothin'." He looked back at Mark, Delonte, and the rest of the Cedarville Niggers circled around the two fake-wood tables they'd squeezed together. "If you know what best for you, you'll shut the fuck up right now before somebody get hurt-"

At this, a hand appeared from behind the woman and grabbed her arm. "That's enough, Sister Mary Grabber. Let's go." The priest turned the shaking nun around with both hands and led her to the EXIT.

Donte sat down. And a WHOOP! went up from his fellow gang members, echoing through the Food Court, along with several pats on the back and high-fives. He wiped a curtain of sweat from his brown forehead and looked at Mark, who had been scribbling on a napkin and giggling throughout the whole ordeal. "The bitch lucky I don't rape and kill her-"

Mark looked down at the upside-down 3-D cross he'd drawn, then looked back up at his friend. And raised his eyebrows.