“BELLY: A Brutal Bible  
Tale”  
 
Chapter One  
 
Our hapless prophet finds himself in the  
Wrong damn place at the wrong damn  
time:  
 
THE blood that blossomed from the center  
of his chest was only a trickle when it  
should have been a torrent. The sharpened  
ice pick stuck there quivered like a  
plucked piano chord. The dealer eyed the  
plastic dirty duct taped handle, then the  
emaciated junkie bitch that had just  
stabbed him. The fiend still crowed about  
his weak shorted sack whilst the dealer  
grasped the pick with his strong hand. He  
tugged fiercely, but it would not budge.  
The ice pick was buried in the hard bone  
of his sternum. He should have been  
grateful. Two inches to the left and there  
would be one less nigga in The Harbor.  
No matter how hard the dealer tried it  
would not pull free. The dealer was staring  

at it, getting more and more frustrated at  
the bone encased ice pick. The  
fiend’s pealing was getting on his tits  
and that was a problem he could solve.  
The dealer let go of the ice pick and a  
hidden snub-nose emerged from his  
waistband. He pointed it at the whiny little  
bitch and made the angry spewing face  
vaporize in an instant red fog. It was finally  
quiet enough to think, the loud f***.  
As if on cue everybody ran but a long  
greasy-haired Jonah.  
“Shouldn’t even be  
here,” he mumbled.  
The shaken dealer having heard yet  
another motherf***er open his pie hole  
turned and pointed the hot muzzle at  
Jonah. His face paled. Too frightened to  
move He shit himself. Jonah was going to  
die right here, right in the very last place he  
wanted to be. Jonah found himself staring  
at a loaded gun pointing bleak and hard  
into him.  
The dealer fired point blank into  
Jonah’s chest. He felt the concussion  
shove him away. He folded his shoulders