Terror Firsthand #94: That Kind Of Hustle

 ©Terror Firsthand is a fictional blog series that was created in 2024. It is for entertainment purposes only, and I wrote it from the top of my head. Photos are reenactments and dramatization. The following story is for mature audiences only. Please, do not try anything dangerous at home.

Warning: extreme terror

Terror Firsthand: That Kind Of Hustle 

Giovan "Enyoazz" Mendoza at The Devil's Universe podcast studio in NYC 

After writing a couple of new songs, I took a warm, hot bubble bath and then fed Big C and went to sleep. I woke up the next morning and cut on the television. Enyoazz was back on The Devil's Universe podcast with Dustin Moore.

"My wife left me Dustin! Right after my son died! This funky f*cking b*tch!" Said Giovan Mendoza. 

"Why did she leave you?" Asked Dustin Moore.

"Because of this stupid motherf*cker Frank bro! Khadija thinks I've been letting him suck my di*k bro! She doesn't trust me anymore! She already filed for a divorce bro! I thought she was stronger than that! I thought she was a real woman that could handle my past! She wasn't sh*t! Son she was just another hood f*cking b*tch with AIDS! She isn't no real minister! She a f*cking joke bro!" Said Giovan, crying like a little baby. He had lost his wife and his son. 

"I'm so sorry my brother. You will get through it." Said Dustin Moore.

"This nigga Frank been trolling me bro! He keeps sending me text messages talking about how I'll never find another man like him and how he can f*ck my wife if he wanted to!" Said Giovan, with pure disgust in his voice. He knew Frank was probably the one that had his kid murked.

"Whatever you do bro, don't react." Stated Dustin Moore.

I changed the channel to Frank DaVoucci's YouTube channel. He was back in Atlanta. He had started dating Khadija Mendoza. It was unbelievable. In one video, he was at the Holy River Ministries, handing out food to the homeless with her. They even kissed in the lips and asked people to donate to the channel. Frank DaVoucci was a fraud. He didn't really want Khadija, he just wanted to ruin Giovan's life because Giovan didn't want his gay ass anymore. 

Giovan didn't have much support. No one cared that Frank stole his wife. No one cared that his son was killed either. I felt so bad for Giovan, that I shed a tear. I felt his pain. Frank's baby mother was a sicko, and I wasn't even gay. 

I eventually started grilling a steak and chicken on the hotel grill. I had never cooked on a public grill before, but it was better than eating at a dirty ass restaurant. While I was outside grilling and drinking wine, a man approached me.

In Actionville Florida 

"Give me some..." Said the man, while laughing.

"I don't have enough, I'm sorry." I said, while laughing. I only had enough food and wine for myself. I wasn't expecting company. 

"I was just kidding. So are you here by yourself? I see you have a dog." Said the man.

"Yeah I'm just traveling." I replied.

"Word, so how long are you going to be here?" The man asked.

"I don't know. Do you have a room here?" I asked.

"Yeah, but I'm pulling out tomorrow though." Said the guy.

"Do you live in Actionville?" I asked.

"No, I live in St. Johns County. I'm just kicking it for the weekend. It's my homeboy birthday." Said the guy.

"Oh okay." I replied. 

I knew right then and there that I did not want to talk to his ass anymore. I was hoping he was from Duval, Orlando, Boca Raton, Palm Springs, Miami, Tampa, or Broward. I didn't like St. Johns County like talking about it. Tracia Pueblos took me there when I was younger and told me that I had alot of relatives there. Nigga could be my third cousin or something. I'm not into incest. 

"I'm bout to go back to my room." I said, after I finished cooking the steak and chicken. 

"Word, can I come with you?" Asked the man.

"I don't think that would be a good idea. I have a boyfriend." I said.

"That's what's up. You ain't all that fine anyway. You look like a whole dub and you can't even cook that good shawty." Said the rude ass motherf*cker. 

"See, that's why I ain't want your ass anyway!" I said, and walked back up to my room with the plate of food. 

I didn't even wanna be inside that hotel anymore. That rude motherf*cker was killing my vibe. I was ready to peel. I chilled inside of the room for the rest of the night. I was beginning to grow tired of not hearing from Daddy P. I didn't know if I should cheat or not. After all, he could be low-key fake as hell. 

The next day, I drove to Palm Springs and checked into a hotel. I left the hotel and went to a botanica to buy some candles and incense. Then I went shopping for some all white clothing. I knew I needed to blend in with the voodoo so I started practicing it soon I got in the room. I never had a room in Palm Springs before. There's a first time for everything. 

In Palm Springs, Florida performing in a nightclub 

Later that night, I went to a nightclub to see what was in there. I knew I couldn't stay very long. I only stayed for one hour and then I left. It was actually open mic night. I never went to open mic night in Florida before so I gave it a shot. They played On The East Coast, Don't Wanna Be In Yo Squad, Telling A Fib Remix, and Blasting Thru Yo Speaker. The crowed applauded me at the end of my performance and I felt like a celebrity but I knew I still wasn't because no money was involved. I tried to sell my merch, and I only sold 2 copies that night, which totaled to about $10. It really sucked. 

I went back to the hotel. Charlie was still inside, safe and sound. I knew it was risky leaving him in there to go to the club. What if someone snitched on me? I knew I said this before. Anyways, after being in Palm Springs for one night, I knew it was time to bounce. I went to Miami to stay for a night. I hired a young white girl around 15 years old to watch Big C. I didn't want to risk it anymore. I trusted the teenager and knew that she wouldn't do anything mean to my dog. I met her mother and she seemed ok. 

I ended up going to more than just an open mic night. I ended up at a strip club dancing ass naked in front of hundreds of people. I made around $550 that night. I knew I couldn't continue doing that every night. I felt myself slipping and I felt myself going too far backwards. I was an artist, not a sleezy piece of meat. I wanted my music to be respectable. I didn't want the dog sitters to find out about my sleezy hustle either. I didn't want them to find out where the money came from. 

After the club, I picked up Charlie from the dog sitter and went back to the hotel in North Miami Beach. I slept there for the rest of the night. The next morning, I left Miami and headed back to Actionville. This time, I went to another hotel.