King of Clubs by Terry Turbo

Author:Terry Turbo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Platinum Pictures London Limited
Published: 2015-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

“How the fuck did you get that in?”

He told me and I went fucking mental. Just like all the other fuckers who stepped out of line, I made an example of DJ Gun Smuggler: had him beaten the fuck up and thrown out on his arse, with his bird. The muggy little prick. In hindsight, we should have let a few rounds off at these twats each time they played a shit tune just to show them how dangerous a gun in a club could be. They thought they were the coolest thing in the world, that the world revolved around them. Knives, powder, pills. Anything that wasn’t allowed, they’d try to bring it in.

There was this geezer called MC Sparks who smashed a wine bottle across some girl’s head one night. Pleasant chap. He was lucky to get out of there in one piece because he was in serious danger from everyone. Even the venue security had their sleeves rolled up. Just when everything had calmed down, the bird went to her car and came back to the club with a gun, waving it around threatening to shoot him. A fucking bird! The police were called and she got nicked. She was lucky, really. With the amount of weapons in there, someone could easily have blown her away before we called 999.

We had a fucking serious set-to at The Sanctuary in Milton Keynes. A gang of about 20 or so guys from Manchester arrived. Supposedly, they were part of some Manchester gang. One of the country’s most notorious young black firms, responsible for dozens of shootings and deaths up north in ‘Gunchester’. They could have been Kool and the Gang, for all I cared. There they were, all in their hoodie-homeboy baggy clothes, giving it all that shit about ‘respect’ and saying they didn’t want to pay at the door.

Well, it’s not a fucking charity event, boys.

“I don’t care who you are.” I said. “There is no way you’re coming in here unless you pay.” In the end, they grudgingly handed over the wedge.

“Right.” I said. “Now, if you come in and fuck around in my club, you’re going to get hurt. Respect us, and we’ll respect you.”

Sorted.

About an hour later, the punters started leaving and I mean big numbers of them. It was only 12 o’clock and the rave was going on until six in the morning. Something was up. I nosed around and found our friends from Manchester causing trouble. They all had their hoods up and were picking random fights, pathetic stuff like kicking people up the arse and then punching them in the face when they turned round.

There was no choice. They had to be stopped. I called venue security over and told them I wanted these lads thrown out. The house team shit themselves and just refused. We’d have to do the job ourselves. No problem. They were causing aggro in my club and now they were going to get smashed up. I got my boys together and approached them.

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