FOUR BRICK$ © – A Mini-Story Written by DJ Kool Ken

FOUR BRICKS - A Mini-Story by DJ Kool Ken cover1

Carlos and Rey had sent word through some associates that some big-time drug dealers were going to be in Kansas City, Missouri, and were looking for a buyer. But, they weren’t interested in meeting with any small time hand-to-hand nickel and dimers. They had big weight, and were trying to unload it fast, but only if the price was right.

Before long, word came back. They had a buyer. Carlos and Rey drove out to Kansas City and set up shop in a motel room on the outskirts of the city. Carlos with his coarse hair slicked back in a ponytail, and the both of them wearing linen suits, they both looked like foreigners. When the Kansas City boys showed up, they were four deep, and the two in back were almost certainly carrying big heat.

Rey, speaking with a Cuban accent, played the role of representative, and translated for the weight man, Carlos, who spoke only Spanish. Still, Carlos’s gruff demeanor was hard to miss, and it appeared that at any moment they would cancel the deal. The Kansas City Boys were big-time pushers, but there was a drought on cocaine that had seriously slowed down their operations as of late. The drought worked out in Carlos and Rey’s favor, on the other hand. They were able to demand a ridiculously high price for the four kilos of powder they’d said they’d brought from Colombia by way of Cuba. Rey explained that the prices were high because of the cost of transporting during a time of increased surveillance, and several of the fishing boats they employed in shipping across the waters had been intercepted, resulting in significant losses.

The boys weren’t convinced.

Carlos appeared furious. He began yelling at Ray in Spanish, and Ray unsuccessfully attempted to calm him down.

Finally, the head of the Kansas City unit intervened.

“All right, all right. Tell him to cool out. Let us sample this sh*t first, and then we’ll decide. If it’s some high grade Colombian sh*t, we’ll f*ck with you.”

Rey laid one of the bricks on top of a towel on the motel dresser and pulled out a small knife. One of their guys cut a small hole into the brick, and scooped out some of the powder with the tip of the knife. He tasted it. The deal was sealed. The Kansas City boys handed over a small duffle bag containing $60,000 dollars and they left promptly to get to work.


Unfortunately, there wouldn’t be much work for them to do.

Turns out, they’d been stuck with four bricks full of newspaper. There was an ounce of coke stuffed in the corner of one.

$60,000 for f*cking newspaper! Carlos and Rey were laughing their asses off on the bus drive home.

FOUR BRICKS - A Mini-Story by DJ Kool Ken cover2

The lesson? Like the runner who isn’t listening when the starter pistol is fired, those who don’t pay attention in life are the first to lose. I was told that “knowledge” means to  “look, listen, observe, and respect.” I was also taught that knowledge was the foundation to everthing in existence. It seemed simple: What can you do if you don’t know , sh*t? If you want to do something, and do it well, you need to “do the knowledge.”

So How Observant Are You?

“It is impossible for a man to be vheated by anyone but himself.” — Ralph Waldo Emmerson (1803 – 1882) 


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