I always wondered why he used really weird curse words, I was not from Brigalo so this must have just been the way he spoke at home growing. It was further cumbersome to take in his demands as it stimulated me enough to bring thoughts of fatality in my mind when he commanded me to do things. .
"Get the blades from the shelf there brother, we're slicing your wrists tonight and bringing out your little chick inside" I responded. .
As I walked in to the kitchen with him he threw a blade at my chest and I had caught it wrongly which ended up cutting my palm. His bravado had finally let him give credit to me for saving my own life, despite the fact that it had actually inflicted a deep wound. I immediately went to the bathroom and wrapped gauze and a hand wrap to hide the wound. As I was making my way back to the kitchen where he was still looking for oatmeal in the fridge that he left out the night before. While doing this, he decided to initiate one of our usual points of argument. .
"Oh hell I can't find the oatmeal Kampon!, do you Watsina's believe in heaven and hell".
I thought to myself, my lord, me have enough of the rubbish he about. If it must be all the drugs he's taking, I is a fatigued, fatigued, fatigueee.
"Well I figga a rude boy you is need to learn a lesson or two about the bond of respect for blades, you do the honors of a storying me about hell when me slice".
"You know man; I don't really need blades to kick your ass " He responded.
Valley does not like when I trash talk and smart mouth him, it is his pet peeves after the list of many other he has about language difference. Brigalo is not a place I grew up in, I was adopted from a street as a child when my parents left me at a street corner.