The West Sun and The Origin of The Brilliant Eight, Chapter 2

“Damn, man, I swear you really are like an old bitter woman who needs to be fondled. Immediately,” thirty-six-year old Terrence “Terry” Mendez cut his eyes away from his complaining cousin who hadn’t stopped his ranting for the last twenty minutes as they battled the traffic into Brooklyn. “I’ma throw yo ass out of this truck while it’s still moving.”