Boyz in the SLC Hood.

Note - This story is purely a piece of fiction written by moestavern19 of the clutchfans bbs. The events of this story may or may not be completely true, but regardless we have changed names and added an extreme amount of satire and sarcasm to protect the completely un-innocent.

Warning : The following contains a lot of graphic dialogue and crude language, and is not suitable to be read by anyone who is weak-minded and easily offended.

Cast of Characters

AK - The Russian.
Bert - The Turk.
Harp - The OG.
Booze - The Gimp.



Boyz N The SLC Hood


*The Following should be read as if one were watching a 20/20 special*

*Opening Scene*

AK "That ain't my hood."

We meet our first subject. He flips us the bird a couple times and flashes his weapon until he realizes who we are. We greet him, he hugs us and shakes our hands in a strange way. He asks to be called simply "AK"

A pimped out Cadillac rolls down the streets of Salt Lake City (SLC). A tall, lanky man blows some smoke from a joint. Some old Wu Tang plays in the background as he stares down some punks trying to sell him some insurance or some bull****.

AK "This ain't my hood, really. I ain't care what nobody said before though, this is my hood now. I didn't come from SLC. I ain't no punk. I came from Russia. Back when the Communists were still in control and ****. They try to tell me when I come to America **** is different around here. They tell me I can't pack my nine outside when I'm out strollin' for b****es with my homies. To that I say "hows a man s'posed to protect hisself out in SLC? I ain't no punk. Thats what I tell em."

AK strolled through the SLC looking fly as usual. Although he came to America from Russia, he had learned how to immerse himself in American culture quickly in 7 years. The first thing he realized was that SLC was hood. You don't want to be ****ing around in SLC. You might catch a mean glance if you play some non-sanctioned music too loud. Rap is strictly forbidden because of the explicit lyrics. AK doesn't give a **** though. One thing connects the outside world to SLC. Basketball. Thats where AK comes in. He wouldn't dare set foot in the ghetto if he couldn't handle a rock.

AK "They always said I was tall but not big enough to play. I ain't got much meat my bones, but I got enough to hang with the best of them."

AK rolls up into the SLC's most famous streetball court. The kind of place where young Gs come to test their skill. This place is not for the faint of heart. This place makes Rucker Park look like a Junior High basketball camp in the suburbs.

AK "One time this dude came up lookin all mean and ****, talkin about how he was ready to ball on us SLC b****es. We took him for everything he had. Y'all just don't understand how we do in the SLC. **** is real out here. They think they can come up in here into the house that Stock and Mail built and ball us up? Hell naw. We quick to learn a mother****er. If you don't flop, you ain't **** on my court."

Flopping you say? Whats that? Does it belong in basketball? Here it does. in the ghettos of SLC you see a game come together. Exiled NBA refs are present, looking to get in on the action. Illegal basketball games are a huge problem in the ghettos of SLC. Flopping is the name of the game. The better the flop, the better the control of the game. Back in Rucker they live by a strict "no blood, no foul" unwritten rule. A rule that is supposed to prove that a basket can be made no matter what kind of tactics the opponent has resorted to. Here in SLC, things are different.

"**** originated back in the late 80s dawg" says a cohort of AK, who goes by the alias "Bert." Like AK, Bert also comes from a foreign country. Turkey.

Bert: "I ain't started in SLC either, we heard about that **** though for real. Back in the 80s, ballin got a fresh new look in SLC ya heard? Back when Mail and Stock came around. They showed us how to do it. Why you gonna bust your ass on defense when all you gotta do is take a dive? It ain't no ****in rocket science motha****a!"

AK: "The Police try to come in and bust us up all the damn time, they haul my ass down to the station all the time. I laugh in the pig's face. Pig-ass Mother****er think he can take me in for playin some ball? Hell naw, that ain't how AK roll."

Bert: "We just tryin to play some ball, but the man tries to hold us down. **** that. We got Obama in office now, so some **** gonna change for real!"

The optimism is shocking coming from the source of what seems to be a miserable existence. Although their exploits on the court make them famous in the hood, everyone else in the country is not fond of their "flopping." AK and Bert constantly face opponents trying to "beat them" by playing actual basketball.

Bert: "I say that **** is stupid, trying to catch the basketball and just shoot and all that dumb-ass ****. Basketball is about getting in someone's head, about outsmarting the dumb-mother****er trying to set a screen on you. A 6 foot 3 guard trying to set a screen on me? *he laughs for 16 minutes, we see some video footage of a smaller man trying to set a screen on Bert. A Flop ensues and the young player hangs his head in shame, knowing he's been had again by the best."

*Another man enters the room where a large amount of weed is being smoked. He is introduced as "Harp". He is another member of the notorious "Real Mutha****in OG" gang that terrorizes the hood of SLC with its thuggish style of basketball. He immediately begins a profanity laced tirade about being hasselled by some kids in white shirts and name-tags, and how he had to pull out a shotgun to make them understand he wasn't interested*

AK: "Dawg, why you gotta keep tripping in front of these cameras and ****? What did you get some bad p***y last night or some ****?

Harp: "Yeah from that slut down the block that claims to be your wife motha****a!"

Harp grabs a 40 ounce bottle of Mad Dog 20/20 from the fridge and pours a small amount out and points 2 fingers up at the sky. He is quick to tell our cameras about his experiences in SLC and how he won't hesitate to not only flop, but to dish out hard punishment to anyone who crosses him.

Harp: "Man let me educate you mother****ers out there who ain't know how I get down! First off, no mother****er in his right mother****in mind got any business on my court, in my mother****in hood!" When I get down, I ain't trying to come off no screen and hit no 18 foot Jumper or none of that bull****! I'm tryna get elbow-deep up in a mother****a's rib cage you feel me?"

There are a few others in the gang. Mostly Caucasians and Europeans. There are however, a few African American players, who for whatever reason ended up on the mean streets of SLC. One of them is nicknamed "Booze" he speaks about life in SLC.

Booze: "First off, I would like to preface by saying that the quality of life in Salt Lake City is excellent. The air is so fresh. Why, my wife and I do enjoy walking through around town and admiring the architecture very much! Sometimes, if you time it just right, You can walk around the mall and sample quite an assortment of fine foods, and then go for a walk around the park just as the sun is setting! It is wonderful! If you come over to my house, I will be sure to invite you in for some a nice plate of Havarti Cheese and crackers!"

The others shake their heads at Booze.

"Hey you old Gimpy-Ass Carlton Banks-ass mother****er! You better not bring them cheese-hands when you come to ball tomorrow night" remarks Harp.

The others laugh, Booze looks down at the floor and heads back into the basement with a couple of the others, and they continue their game of backgammon while upstairs the Caucasian players abuse mar1juana, alcohol, and in general... all that is right in the world. Booze knows he is a minority in SLC, and he cannot stir up any trouble. He idolizes "Mail" who was a prominent African American player in SLC back in the day. He says he wants to leave the OG clique, but knows it will be difficult to do so without a large amount of resentment.

Back on the topic of flopping. The OGs from SLC run the court the way they see fit. Flops are called repeatedly because they own the Refs who control the game. Control the flop... Control the game. That is their motto. Other players from other hoods have tried to play against the OG clique from SLC, and have met great difficulty.

"They are just a bunch of thugs! I'm talking about some really mean individuals, and they really use a lot of foul language and it is just so inconsiderate. They also try really hard on both ends of the court to win the game. I just think that is incredibly rude." said one player from Houston who asked to be called simply "Tracy McGrady"

Still, The OGs run the court and dictate their games as they see fit. We follow the OGs into their battle with a group from Dallas Texas. The game is hard, but the flopping and dirty play of Harp brings them yet another sweet victory. They return home from a hard-fought victory with a large amount of alcohol, some prostitutes and a large amount of cocaine. The African American players have a couple of white wine spritzers and then retreat back to the basement to have a "Friends Season 4" marathon.

AK sits happily on a chair with a prostitute on his lap.

"This is the American dream!" he says with a smile on his face.

Yes, it certainly is.

 

I think I was on crack last night.