Ven: “The regulation of sugar through
rationing, had as planned, impacted American's health. In fact the
fallout from the new legislation had caused painful contractions all
over the States. But, one thing congress failed to realize, the
important thing for my situation at least, is if you cut off an addict
you get what Mr. Eckard's industry likes to call adverse side
affects. I serviced the worst of the addicts, but supply did not
meet demand. This created a gap; my product needed to be supplemented
to erase the lingering side effects. That was Mr. Eckard's angle.
Sugar had been regulated, and around the same time pot had been
legalized. Everybody was like a kid who wanted the flavor lollipop
their best friend had. Bongs and coffee shops with hash rolls were
everywhere, but now what they really wanted was a cookie. I had even
once seen a guy with a tourniquet on his arm melting icing over a
spoon. Mr. Eckard had offered me a fine line, I could give my
customers some of the products he was offering me, to deal with the
side effects, but if I gave them the drugs that they had forgotten
about like, opiates, hallucinogens, that sort of thing, I would put
myself out of business.
Reporter: “So what did you and Mr.
Eckard decide?”
Ven: “I decided to keep Mr. Eckard
where he belonged, away from me, my employees, and my clients.” “My
business, filled a purpose, that purposed didn't include playing
doctor. Eliminating the troubles of my client base would mean
eliminating their number one reminder to visit me. Mr. Eckard would
have been added risk.
Reporter: “Let's go back to my first
question. I started to ask you how you became a honeyslinger. I think
that question has answered itself seeing how much drive and cunning
you have. The better question is why did you become a honeyslinger.”
Ven: “Ahh. Umm. Lets skip that
question, if you don't mind.”
Reporter: “Sure, you and Mr. Eckard
ended up on bad terms, did he not receive your rejection well?”
Ven: “The decision to turn down Mr
Eckard's offer was business he knew that, but Mr Eckard was also a
man of drive and “cunning” as you put it. My refusal wasn't going
to stop him from getting what he wanted. I may have been the best in
the business, but my organization wasn't the only source. Mr. Eckard
took his plan elsewhere, to dimmer minds with their heads in the
clouds. I was fine to have him out of my hair but It wouldn't stay
that way for long. Mr. Eckard had linked up forces with a guy named
Ivan. Ivan wanted the life of a rock star, and he knew success when
he smelled it, so for him Mr. Eckard was a natural fit. In
the beginning Mr. Eckard romanced Ivan, because Ivan had what
he wanted, street cred, a network, a customer base. He showed Ivan
what being at the top was like. But, Ivan was weak, and Mr Eckard
found it easier and easier to play the puppet master, pull all the
strings and run Ivan's business. Before Mr. Eckard got into the game
honeyslinging had been just that. No hard drugs, few guns and
agreements between slingers. Ivan's crew started edging in on my
territory more and more. I didn't pay much attention, things had
always been peaceful. Just a little bit further and we would have a
meeting. Then the day came, a shoot up on one of my shops near the
border. The store front was a hardware store, but in the back is a
couple of bakers and a delivery boy. I have it all on security tape.”
Tape: The sun was setting on the street
and the low orange glow of dusk lights everything up. An suv pulled
up outside and three men got out and walked in the store under the
camera. “Is there anything I can help you boys with?” the store
clerk asked. A young man with a slender face and a pale complexion turned to the clerk as the other two men walked towards the
back. “Of course. I was wondering how you got your store to smell
so nice, so sweet?” Ivan said with a smirk. The clerk reached under
the counter but he was too late, Ivan had already pulled his gun, a 1911
with ivory grips, a present from Eckard, special for this job. Ivan
pulled the trigger twice and walked to the back of the store where
two of his thugs were waiting by the back door, guns drawn. “Lets
go.” Ivan commanded. The first thug breached the door and
immediately was hit in the chest by a shotgun round and blown
backwards out of the door. Eckard had wanted nothing to go wrong with
this job. He had outfitted Ivan with a flash bang just for such an
occasion. Ivan pulled the pin and threw the flash in the door and
waited for the bang. It seemed like a vast amount of time between the
throw and the bang, but once it went of Ivan ran into the door.
First went the cook with the shotgun. Next was the second cook, who
was on one knee covering his eyes with his forearm pointing his
pistol at the ground. Finally there was the delivery boy or
serf-slinger. He was so disoriented he wasn't even looking at the
door anymore. Ivan went over and pulled the gun out of his hand and
shoved him to the floor. The were here to send a message, the
delivery boy would live, but he would wish he was dead. Ivan and his
thug rolled the boy over on his back and Ivan spoke to the slinger
“Tell Ven that Ivan sent you.” and then Ivan stomped his heel
into the slinger's solar plexus.
Ven: “Who uses flash bangs, FBI, CIA,
Homeland Security? I'll tell you who doesn't, thugs. That's how I
knew it was Eckard. The initial pact and peace between slingers and
between Ivan and I had been broken. A war had been started and
sitting at the top of it all was Eckard.
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