Title: Woodcrest State of Mind

Chapter One

Author: DaveTheWordsmith

Rating: Rated T

Genre: General/Humor

Disclaimer: Boondocks is owned by Sony Pictures Digital Inc. and Aaron McGruder. All the copyrights associated with Boondocks belong to them. Only the ideas contained within this story are the property of the author. No profit is being earned by the writer of this story.

Rapid, quiet clicks sounded from Huey Freeman's laptop, comfortably placed over his legs crossed Indian-style. The sharp drum kicks and vibrating bass from Dead Prez's "Hip-Hop" that emanated from the television created the perfect backdrop to feed Huey's creativity. His black shirt with Malcolm X's serious visage and baggy gray sweat pants were indicative he had been up since the early morning hours of the day, but for the moment appearance did not matter.

Huey's fingers continued their quick and accurate strokes over the keyboard for a few more seconds, and then finally came to a stop. His essay about the Hip-Hop Illuminati was complete.

His eyes narrow to enable greater focus on the bright screen, Huey unveiled a small smile at the sight of the new Dead Prez mixtape download link in a newly arrived e-mail.

"Hmmm. What's this?" Huey moved to the next e-mail in his inbox and clicked on the url link inside. A video clip from WorldStarHipHop popped up in a new window and started to play. A black woman pursued a black man down a busy street. From his actions, he wished to ignore the belligerent woman who threw her hands up and yelled at him behind his back. A few men and women tried to hold her back; however, she broke loose and raced toward the man. All of a sudden, a swift punch from the man collided with her face. The way she fell down flat on her back, it looked as though it all happened in slow motion. The men and women nearby hollered and/or laughed in response. A few men came by to pick the woman up, who had blood spewing from her lips. A few others came into the view of the camera phone and threw up their hood or gang and gave various shout outs.

Huey Freeman slowly shook his head after the clip on his screen came to its conclusion. "Niggas."

Before Huey could peruse an e-mail from the Final Call online newsletter, Nas's "N.I.G.G.E.R." song suddenly became silence. This caused Huey's eyes to divert from his message board browsing to the television. The channel continued to switch by itself, which meant...

Huey turned to see Riley beside him with the remote control in his hand. "Hey! I was watchin' that," Huey frowned at his brother who continued to channel surf.

"No you wasn't, nigga! You was on your laptop like usual, and listenin' to some wack ass music," Riley Freeman sat down on the opposite side of the sofa.

"Whatever. I saw that video from your email with that girl who got knocked out. I knew I shouldn't have opened it," Huey shook his head once again. He returned his attention to his laptop screen.

"Oh yea'?" Riley changed the channel to his favorite music video station which started to play Paypa, Jim Jones & Game's song "I Am Bitches". "That bitch got what was comin' to her. You step to a nigga like you a nigga and not like a grown ass chick, you gone' get dealt wit' like you a nigga, feel me?"

"Ay boys, Ruckus show up yet?" Granddad walked into the living room. He pulled at the collar of his white wife beater and then took a sip from his glass of orange juice. "He was 'posed to be here an hour ago to work on the lawn! I ain't gonna pay that nigga shit next time he gives me another bill!"

Riley's attention to the music stopped as he swiveled to gaze at Granddad. "Nah, ain't seen 'em, Granddad. Why you can't get Lando though? The nigga go hard-"

"Pause," Huey looked over at Riley as his lips formed a hint of a smile.

Riley crossed his arms and grimaced at Huey. "Real funny, nigga. You know what I meant."

Granddad shrugged, his mind still on what Riley said earlier. "I would have asked Lando but he's workin' on some TV show with his daddy. Lucky ass boy; man, if I were Billy Dee's son," Granddad sat down in his chair, glass in hand. "Back in my day, I could've had even more chicks," Granddad smiled at a daydream he was having, wearing Lando Calrissian's outfit under the name Bobby Dee Williams and surrounded by a large group of women. The only immediate reply Granddad received was an exhale from Huey as he closed his laptop and set it aside.

"Aw shit, this my shit right here," Riley stopped at another music station that had the music video of Rick Ross' newest single "Maybach Music 3" remixed with an unreleased verse from Thugnificent. "Man, why niggas always gotta be hatin' on anotha' nigga just 'cause he makin' that gwop! So what he was a C.O., the nigga makin' money!"

"I think Ruckus is here now. This better be the last time I have to talk with him about this. I always have to stay in his ass!" Granddad set his glass of orange juice down and headed over to the front door.

"You forgot 'no homo', Granddad!"

Granddad stopped and glared at Riley, who started to laugh. "Boy, I thought I told you what I think about that no homo business!" He went down the hallway and made his way to the front door. He opened it to see Uncle Ruckus casually riding around the lawn on his tractor.

"Ruckus! What are you doin' here so late?" Granddad yelled over the tractor's loud engine. Uncle Ruckus stopped the tractor and turned to face Granddad.

"Didn't you get my new schedule I left at your front door yesterday, Robert? I've got more white men's lawns to take care of in this neighborhood," Uncle Ruckus smiled. "They may not pay as much, but nothin' makes my day more than seein' the smiles on those white folk's faces before I leave and go work on another white man's lawn. After I'm done with yours, Robert, I've reached my nigga's lawn quota for the month. Last thing I wanna hear while doin' my work is niggas playin' that goddamn jungle bunny music to ruin my concentration!"

Granddad's frown increased in intensity. "Then damnit, Ruckus, pretend I'm white! Pretend I got re-vitaligo like you or somethin', because look at this lawn!" Granddad made a full 360 spin with his arms stretched out. "It looks like the jungles of Vietnam!"

"Typical of you niggas, always complainin' about somethin', even when you finally do get it!" Uncle Ruckus started up his tractor and continued his path down the lawn.

"I'm not through talkin' with you, Ruckus! Come back here! We gotta talk about how much I'm payin' you next time!" Granddad chased after Uncle Ruckus while Huey and Riley looked on, standing in the doorway.

"Speakin' of pay, I gotta hook up with my niggas and Cindy and see what we gonna do today. A nigga gotta eat in this fucked up economy," Riley turned and then ran upstairs to their room to get dressed.

Huey shook his head and sighed. "Nothing's equivalent to the Woodcrest state of mind," he got out before he shut the front door.

...