Morgan Ray

Dude got himself a nice racket — backyard dogfights, quick cash under the table. Then Morgan Ray’s kid shows up dragging a skinny mutt he wants turned into a killer. Mom finds out, loses it. She storms in like a fuckin’ storm, grabs me by the arm so hard my shoulder pops, and starts screaming that her golden boy’s got a scholarship and she ain’t letting him ruin it for dirty money. I barely hear the words; all I see are those huge, over-the-top fake tits bouncing with every pissed-off breath. She throws a deal on the table nobody expected — climbs on the Shorty Mac, gives everyone a show, all so her kid can walk away clean. Kid’s standing there watching his mom get railed, eyes wide like he just swallowed broken glass. I bailed after that, never looked back. Always thought that little shit leaned left anyway.