The Hired Gun Ch. 06

"HEY WAIT!" Andre was surprised when the woman called after him, looking back finding her head sticking out from behind the screen door. If it was possible, she looked even meaner with nothing obscuring her face.

"Yeah?"

"Did you say Babbette?"

"Yeah, I guess." Andre scratched his temple with his free hand befuddled at the softer look on this woman's angry face.

"Did you say Babbette, or not; look I need to be clear about this shit, bruh. So, are you looking for this motherfucking Baby-Et person, or Babbette?"

"It could be Babbette, I think." His mind twisted in a knot trying to make sense of what she was talking about. The woman inched out further with a shoulder appearing at an angle. The rest of her was hidden by the heavy oak front door. Andre watched her brow furrow deeply while a wry half smile appeared on her face.

"WHAT SHE LOOK LIKE?!"

"I don't know." Andre shrugged.

"HOW YOU GONNA COME TO SOMEBODY HOUSE AND DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THEY LOOK LIKE, FOOL!!" More of her appeared from behind the screen door revealing an Adidas muscle tank top and some black form fitting leggings from the same brand.

"I DON'T KNOW! She uhm, said we met at the park a day ago when I was playing my game. Baby-Et sent an uber to bring me over here and it was just a joke, I guess. She said we could play some games together, so that's why I got in the car. This is where it stopped and the driver told me this house was the address, so I rang the doorbell, sorry."

The mature woman stared back processing everything said.

"Hey doofus, did you say something about a park, huh?"

"No, that's what Baby-Et said when she started talking to me through this Nintendo Switch." He held up the handheld console gesturing to her with it.

"So, you weren't at no fucking park, then?"

"LADY I WAS AT THE PARK BUT I... Oh yeah, I was there the other day. I thought I was there to fuck a girl, but they were just doing exercises. I stayed in the backseat playing my game, and I guess it was that one who came up to my window."

"WERE YOU AT THE PARK, OR NOT?!!" She shouted aggressively.

"Yeah."

"Did you or did you not, meet a girl over at that fucking park; what's your damn name by the way, boy?!"

"Andre."

"Did you meet a girl at that park or not, Andre nigga?" It felt like he was twisting in the wind under her piercing gaze. She looked to be in her late forties, early fifties and something seemed familiar about her to Andre although he couldn't put his finger on it internally.

"Yeah."

"WELL, WHAT DID SHE LOOK LIKE, SPIT IT OUT!" She seemed to be having a hard time reigning her anger as he looked about, shoulders slumped wondering If he should just leave. Honestly, Andre had no idea where he was after getting out of the uber nearly on the tip of the exasperated driver's foot. He'd continued playing his Nintendo Switch not minding his surroundings as he was ferried to the location.

"Uhm, she was real pretty kinda light skinned but not too much; middle light skinned with uh, some black people things on her face...black heads, I think. Her hair was uh, like blonde locs and she talked real funny, too. I couldn't hardly understand what she was saying, miss. Uhm, what's your name?"

"You don't need to be worrying about that shit right now, nigga; tell me boy, was she ROCKING one of THESE, HUH?!" The angry mature stepped out onto her stoop turning profile, then all the way around fully with her back facing Andre.

Andre found himself looking at her distinctly acute pear shaped figure, more importantly a big singularly pear shaped monstrosity of a badonkadunk utterly meaty and packed to a fault. The undercuff was so pronounced, it overlapped the top of her thighs accentuated by the skintight Adidas leggings. Humorously enough, this middle aged woman was sporting some cheap looking flip flops on her feet. She glanced over her shoulder, finding a semi-blank expression on Andre's face. Then her gaze dropped, finding a surprise of her own. She turned around slowly, mouth agape.

Andre's thirteen plus inches was tenting his pants in the extreme.

"Son of the bitch." The woman exclaimed folding her arms over her relatively small bust with one hand groping her opposite shoulder. She stepped off the porch, arms still folded walking over to the middle of the walk stopping short with an accusatory finger pointed at his oversized bulge.

"What is that?"

"My dick." Andre answered plainly.

"Excuse me?"

"That my dick; it's thirteen point five inches long." Andre explained without a hint of self-awareness or apprehension despite being in an unfamiliar environment.

"Oh, so it's just thirteen point five inches long; is that right Andre nigga?" He didn't pick up on the harsh tone dripping with sarcasm, but noticed her eyes were intently focused on his bulge.

"Yeah."

"Where'd you get the fucking point five inches, huh fool?"

"That's what the lady told me who measured it. She tried with a ruler, then went out and came back with a tape measure, and that's what she said. So, its thirteen point five inches; uh, what's your name, miss?"

"Martha, but that's not important, nigga; tell me, did you come over here to play with my daughter, Babbette?" She inched closer tightening her folded arms across her chest looking him up and down from head to toe.

"Uhm, I guess so." Andre fidgeted, feeling uncomfortable despite towering over Martha.

"I think you should come with me, boy." She handled his bicep speaking with an authoritative tone that disarmed him, despite everything else in his psyche telling the man child to run for his life.

"Sure, okay."

"So, you gonna play with my daughter Babbette, huh boy?" She asked, walking him back to the stone stoop opening the screen door still in custody of his bicep.

"Well, yeah Martha." He admitted finding that she slightly shoved him inside her home while looking back as if she were doing something shady.

"Get your ass in there, doofus!" Andre received an unceremonious shove in his lower back.

Just inside the door was this small little alcove with an ornate utilitarian lighting fixture that just nudged the top of his head. On the other side of the door was a cabinet topped with many cardboard boxes, some duck taped shut with rips and tears in the sides. A veritable mountain of clothing topped these boxes as Martha pushed in close behind him shoving the door shut with the back of her foot. Andre was facing this ten-speed bicycle lined up opposite the front door which had a front wheel missing.

"Keep moving." Martha grunted reaching down, grabbing the opposite side of his waist directing Andre out of the alcove into this narrow space bordered by a wall with this arched window built into it facing what was a very cluttered looking living room. The bottom of this window was bordered with a plethora of potted plants and various knickknacks. This wall made the adjacent corridor narrower.

"Move your ass, hurry up nigga!" Martha was behind Andre with a flattened palm in his back inching him further down this narrowed corridor.

There were faux African pieces and slight shelving holding tiny little collectibles mounted on the walls. The smell of weed was omnipresent intermingled with incense as Andre glanced through the open window in the wall getting another look at the living room. A large almost wall sized flat screen television faced this window playing a movie. It was some Tyler Perry film with his Madea character on screen brandishing two guns in a room full of shocked onlookers. Andre's gaze drifted lower, finding another in the home. There was a loveseat along the inside of this inner window with somebody else occupying it having a smoke. The pervasive odor of weed was explained as this person took a drag.

"BOY YOU HEAR ME TALKING, GET YOUR ASS IN THERE!!" Martha shouted out of nowhere making him flinch as if he'd been struck with a baton. Andre was shoved more roughly this time clearing this door at the right side of the corridor's end. There were three doors in all, one center with two at either side. Andre almost faceplanted barely catching himself holding his Switch in both hands which was suddenly swiped with authority by Martha.

"Hey!!" Andre shouted ruefully as she glanced down at the toy in her hands, then his face with a brow furrowed so much he thought she resembled a humanoid female version of Godzilla.

"If you say one word out of turn, I'm gonna smash your shit, you retarded acting motherfucker!" It honestly looked as if she could break the small rectangular console in two with her bare hands alone, making Andre panic.

"PLEASE DON'T DO THAT MISS, I JUST GOT THAT THIS WEEKEND!" Martha did a doubletake at the level of legitimate panic on display looking at the object in her hand for a second before addressing him.

"Turn your ass around and take a good look!" She growled noticing his hands were still up as if she were pointing a weapon at him.

"Okay I will, please don't break my Switch."

"TURN YOUR ASS AROUND!!" Martha shouted in his face like a Drill Sergeant making him turn his back already trembling a bit.

He found a dresser desk combo and chair white, trimmed in pink with a matching lamp and some books along with an open binder atop it. Andre looked up finding a framed picture staring him in the face level with his eyes due to his height. The thick wooden frame looked like something made in a shop class painted white with the interred picture deep set and covered with a thin sheet of glass. The artist had taken things one step further lining the frame with these multi-colored plastic daisies and sunflowers.

Andre looked at the picture finding a years younger Martha with her adult daughter, Babbette. The girl was sitting wearing this deep long sleeved yellow shirt with a plunging V-neck that put her considerable bust on display while her mother wore a navy blue, more modest version at her rear. It was your standard issue family portrait taken at a local Sears department store before it went out of business. Even the setup was old school with Babbette sitting on a low table covered with a plush blanket reserved for babies and toddlers while Martha stood behind with an evil looking manufactured smile.

"OW!! HEY THAT HURT!!" Andre got an open handed smack to the back of his neck making him favor it.

"Is that "Baby-Et, or not fool?!!" The irritated mature had to catch herself from dinging him in the head with his Nintendo Switch as he looked again afraid to answer.

"Uh..."

"ANSWER ME NIGGA!!" Martha shouted, blinking profusely.

"YES!!" He shouted back confirming her suspicions flinching this time expecting some sort of assault which didn't come as he slowly lowered hands big enough to palm her head like a basketball. Martha stood there glowering so much that her chest was heaving. Instead, the thuggish sounding mother cocked her head to one side staring a hole in Andre's face.

"Hey man, you got them thirteen motherfucking inches, right?"

"Thirteen point five inches."

"THIRTEEN-POINT-FIVE-FUCKING INCHES ALRIGHT?!!...did you put them motherfucking thirteen point five motherfucking inches inside of my daughter, Babbette?" Andre felt a bunch of goosebumps prick up all over his body under her intense glare.

He looked about the bedroom which was a white nightmare trimmed in pink with every piece of furniture matching that aesthetic. At his immediate right was a daybed lined up against the wall with a heavy barred window that ruled out jumping through it if shit went sideways. It was likewise covered with some white sheer overly diaphanous curtains. Three posters were plastered on the wall at the side of the daybed featuring Bob Marley in the middle paired up with Jimmy Cliff and Gregory Isaacs on either side. Babbette's bed was nice and tidy with two odd looking black Rastafarian themed cabbage patch dolls nestled against the single pillow. Andre's gaze traveled back to Martha's steaming features.

"Have you fucked my daughter?"

"No."

"Are you telling me the truth?"

"Yeah." Martha's face scrunched up as she stared at the unassuming look on his face, then she cocked her head to the other side.

"Uh, do you know what "fucking" is, bruh?" She made a gesture with her hand tucking his Switch under her armpit to use her pointer finger rhythmically poking it into her fist simulating intercourse. Andre looked down at the gesture then crossed his arms legitimately annoyed with this thuggish woman.

"YES, I DO THAT ALL THE TIME, GEEZ LADY!!" Andre facepalmed looking as if he would swoon from the annoyance alone.

"Check your tone bruh; you can't blame a bitch for checking them marbles in your motherfucking noggin when you pop up at a bitch house looking like a whole snack with a goddamn Nintendo Switch talking about playing with my baby girl Babbette! Do you know how many niggas I gottta bounce up off my stoop every other day ringing my damn doorbell, huh fool?!! How's I supposed to know you retarded?!"

"I'm not retarded, miss!"

"YOU BETTER BE RETARDED OR AHM GONNA FUCK YOU UP!!"

Martha shouted back raising the toy like she would pummel him with it. They stared at one another, which prompted her to look down at the game in her hands. She looked at the side specifically at the headphone jack. Andre was anxious thinking she would break it but said nothing.

"Hey stupid, my Babbette talked to you through this fucking thing, right?" Martha noticed the cheap dollar store earbuds barely hidden by his shirt.

"Sure, I mean okay miss; she talked to me a little then wanted me to come here so we could play some games...UH, VIDEO GAMES! Yeah, just video games and nothing else, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Just videos games and no fucking, yes miss." Andre answered nodding his head profusely as she looked a little less angry glancing down at the console in her hands again.

"Give me them earbuds off your neck, boy."

"YOU GONNA TAKE MY EARBUDS TOO?!!" He panicked as Martha took liberties snatching the buds plugging them into the toy.

"I'm just borrowing them, Andre; I wanna catch that girl fucking around on this thing. Just relax for a damn minute while I take care of this shit." Martha plunked down sitting on the edge of her daughter's daybed checking one of the buds before plugging one into an ear. Andre was curious.

"What're you gonna do, miss?"

"Get her back over here so I can put that ironing cord on her tail!"

"You're gonna whup her?" Martha did a doubletake at the question suddenly grimacing at the child-like question coming from this handsome guy who looked like an NBA player.

"Shut up."

"Okay." She was fumbling with the toy as he stood over her when the bedroom doorknob turned, drawing their immediate attention. Before either of them could react, the door swung open.

Andre's heart leapt into his throat.

If it was even possible, he found himself staring at an even meaner looking woman than Martha. Her narrow coal darkened complexion was framed with stringy, wet looking barely shoulder length Geri curls. Andre found it hard to look away from the angry narrowed hazel eyes of this woman, noting the hook nose and thin blackened lips. For some reason, Andre thought he was looking at a witch as her lips parted revealing these gleaming white teeth. Her skin tone was smooth black marble. A pair of wireframe glasses sat on her peaked nose.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" Despite his fear at her appearance out of the blue, Andre's gaze drifted lower, finding a body that made him gasp. Her voice was serpentine and snarly reminiscent of the late Eartha Kitt.

Despite knowing he was looking at a woman probably in her early fifties, this mature sister was a cut specimen standing there in a white crop top hoodie that put her defined bikini belly on display. A defined line led to her navel with muted definition hinting at her intense workout routine. The real story here was her very wide hips and shapely legs underneath. These were curvy that drew comparisons to a certain "Infamous Baby Mamma #2" but outclassed her in every category below the waist. A pair of white high waisted yoga short shorts were drawn skin tight riding high on her awesome hips. Because she had been seated in the living room, those shorts had ridden up looking like panties. Andre popped wood so hard, it almost felt as if he would cum in his pants in front of this evil looking witch of a woman. His chin dipped low finding some white ankle socks and a pair of gleaming white Christian Dior sneakers on her feet. His manhood was throbbing while his head was buzzed, conflicted with her appearance.

"Chill, I'm..."

"What're you doing with Andre 13.5, bitch." Martha was momentarily focused on the console but perked up at the insult.

"Excuse me, check your tone... hey, you know this motherfucker?" She raised an angry brow of her own, glaring.

"Are you trying to mess my shit up? Tell me you aren't up in my goddamn business Martha; popping up with this nigga out of the blue; tell me, make me believe it." Andre didn't know what to make of the situation as Martha slowly stood up tossing the toy onto the daybed, now focused on this new woman who didn't look bothered in the least.

"Well, that depends on who I'm talking to; do you know who you are? Am I talking to the high and mighty Sista Jacobs or am I talking to that scheming ass...!"

"PICK ONE!"

Martha was taller than this new woman, but seemed as if she would be the underdog if some sort of scuffle occurred. From Andre's point of view, the shorter woman was hidden from sight. He considered snapping up his Switch and trying to break out of the home, but Martha spoke up.

"Alright, if you wanna throw hands with me and fuck all the shit up in this house, we can do that; but no matter how it turns out, you gonna replace everything. Furthermore, you ain't got no fucking business reprimanding me in my fucking crib when I'm on some motherfucking investigative shit, Georgia!"

A few seconds of pregnant silence followed.

"You done said my name, Martha."

"SO WHAT?!" Proving his thoughts about Georgia's alpha female status, the older woman swiped Martha aside with a wave of her arm staring at Andre's face, visibly seething. Andre's heart beat was damn near audible, thumping wildly.

"Do you know me?" Georgia asked plainly.

"NO MA'AM, GEORGIA!!" Andre blurted out shouting as if a drill sergeant were talking to him.

"I DIDN'T GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO SAY MY NAME, MOTHER FUCKA!!" She shouted, gritting her teeth, looking as if she were about to jump him, while Martha had this knowing smile.

"SORRY I HEARD MARTHA SAY YOUR NAME AND I UHM...!!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I'M GONNA DO SOMETHING MESSED UP IN THIS FUCKING ROOM!!" Georgia screamed in his face even louder. Internally Andre knew he almost swung a roundhouse right at the ferocious sound of her voice but managed to hold back trying to control some random trembling on his part. Martha looked amused, but still nascently dangerous as he wondered if he were being kidnapped.

"Uh, sorry."

"Yeah, I know boy so I'm gonna ask you one more time. Do you know me, nigga?" Her arms were folded across her chest, but she used a pointer finger to poke the middle of Andre's sternum. Every time she made the slightest move, he noticed everything including Georgia's sharp pearl white nails that made them look like claws on her thin digits.

"No ma'am." Andre answered solemnly.

"But I know you, nigga; know all about you and what you do online with all those trifling, low style bitches. I guess you think you're some kind of fuck boy, don't you, nigga? Yeah, I know you. I know about that snake you got in your boxers. I know you're retarded when it comes to everything outside of using that pipe. How'd you get out of your play pen, goofy?"

"I'm not retarded, miss."

"Sure you're not, Andre; they leave the door open, and you snuck out?" Her words were slicing through him like a hot knife through butter as Martha chimed in on the conversation.