Ex-con gets revenge in a first from Moore, a social worker and former gang member.
Jonathan “JC” Collins stashed his share from the big ho-house robbery before his so-called friends betrayed him to save theyselfs. Now, ten years later, he out the joint and lookin’ for vengeance. Thugs, pimps, and ho’s bettah scurry when they see him comin’ and thass a fack. Fortunately (and somewhat improbably), no one touched the huge heap of money he hid under the floor of his mother’s unlocked garage. Seems like some niggah mighta thunk about where it was, but no. His betrayers have gone on to bigger and better things: Richie Kidman is a pimp among pimps, with twelve ho’s workin’ for him; Zo Johnson is a bigtime dealer; and Lil G, a con artist, makes a fortune cheatin’ fools out they money. In short, no one will miss any of these fine citizens, and JC has done ten years in prison on account of they big mouths. Yes, it’s payback time. Paying cash money for a shiny new Jaguar and a pimpadelic penthouse condo ain’t enough for JC. He needs the love of a good woman, and who should volunteer but Champagne, a former exotic dancer who turned a pretty penny blackmailing a few upstanding Republicans with a yen for kinky sex. She fine, real fine. An’ her love is true. Thirsting for battle and armed to the teeth, JC looks up prison pal Rat and his lady, Shaunna. The fearless foursome find that the three betrayers have fallen on hard times: Richie addicted to heroin; Zo in the clutches of psycho Cuban drug lords and facing competition from rival dealers; and Lil G arrested by the Feds. Just in case these gangstas aren’t enough, a strange new villain appears. It’s Peanut, your basic inner-city nightmare: psychopathic-sadist-rapist-necrophiliac-killer, with home-o-sexual tendencies. But he useful to the plot. Just don’t take away his peanut butter.
Gritty street talk carefully rendered. But the story? Just plain over the top.