Here is the first part. Let me know what you think
Act One: Scene One
New Lots, Brooklyn is not a nice place after dark. Both the men knew this, and they were only increasing the risk by being where they were. The two men in question were fair-haired and muscular boys of about eighteen, wearing yellow jackets, and instantly recognizable to anyone in the area. They were
Gregory and
Sampson, of the Capulet Killers. The Capulet Killers were an area gang, formed about six months earlier on October 12th, 1978. They were originally part of their now rival gang, the Montague Murderers. They had broken off from each other after a disagreement between their founders (
Frank Capulet and
Ted Montague). Nowadays, they were in constant warfare, neither ever gaining a descisive advantage over the other.
Despite this, here you had two members of the Capulets on the Montagues' turf (south of New Lots Avenue, east of Pennsylvania Avenue, west of Euclid Avenue, and north of Wortman Avenue). They knew the risks they were taking, but it was the fastest route back to their home. They had no idea what they were about to start. They spoke as they walked. "I hope none of them damn Montagues are around," Gregory said, glancing about nervously. "Don't worry about it, they're probably all getting hammered at their hangout," Sampson said, "It's not too much further to our turf, just keep walking." "Yeah, I know. We could take them the hell out even if they did try to stop us." "That's the spirit!" Sampson laughed. They continued walking, not noticing the movement in the shadows of a nearby alley until it was too late.
Two men in red coats ran into their path. They were
Abraham and
Balthasar of the Montagues. Before the Capulets could react, they were being yelled at by Abraham, "Hey, what the hell are you Capulet faggots doing on our turf!?" "Yeah, you shouldn't be here!" Balthasar added. Gregory reached into his pocket and wrapped his hand around the long blade he carried, "We don't need to give you no reason! Way I figure, this is our turf anyway!" "It ain't been your turf since the fall of '78, and you know it!" Balthasar yelled back. "You looking for a fight or something!?" Sampson asked, "Because we are only too happy to oblige you!" All four pulled out their knives at the same time and began to rush at one another.
There was a flash of red from the same alley, and a man was standing between the two groups. It was a red haired Montague of nineteen by the name of
Benvolio. "What the hell are you doing? You know damn well that just because Commanding Officer Prince is on our payroll, doesn't mean he'll just ignore us brawling in the streets!" "Get the f*ck out of our way you Montague scumbag!" Gregory screamed in his face. "Yeah, get the hell out of the way Benvolio! They're on our turf, they're going down!" Balthasar said. Before any other discussion could take place, a wave of yellow appeared from the north. It was about twenty Capulets, being lead by a fearsome figure. It was the twenty-one year old
Tybalt.
Tybalt was known as the Prince of Cats, as he seemed to have as many lives as he wanted. He was an amazing fighter, a crack shot with a pistol, and an overall perfect soldier. However, his temper was a little out of control, which was demonstrated well when his reaction to the scene was to punch Abraham in the face. Abraham hit the ground at Balthasar's feet, unconscious. Balthasar, realizing he was outnumbered by about twenty-five to one, turned to break for his hangout, only to see an equally sized group of red-wearing people emerge from the end of the street. He swung back around as the Montagues took his back, "Care to take us on now?"
They didn't answer with words. Within seconds, the street exploded into fighting. Tybalt was in the thick of it, grabbing Montagues and beating them left and right. He threw one through the windshield of a car, smashed one's head into a brick wall, kicked one hard enough to bust all his ribs, and elbowed one in the head hard enough to bust his skull open. Meanwhile, Benvolio was standing off to the side, watching from an alley.
Sure enough, there were police on the scene within minutes. They charged in and began beating the two gangs down with nightsticks. Among them was an imposing figure. A man of about forty,
Commanding Officer Prince was a respectable figure. He had almost twenty years of experience on the force, and he was in charge of every officer in his precinct. He was also on their payroll, and it showed, "Officers! Stand down!" The police immediately withdrew. Prince turned to the gang members, "Everyone out, with the exception of your two leaders," there was little movement, "NOW!"
The gang members broke off and ran in different directions, and Frank and Ted both walked up to Prince. He started, "Who the hell started this one?" Ted got in the first word, "This Capulet scumbag had his men on our turf-" "They were here in peace and the Montagues attacked-" "If they were here in peace why were they carrying weapons-" "ENOUGH!" Prince cut them off, "I may be on your payroll, but it's still my duty to keep this place short of general anarchy! The next disturbance caused by your gangs will not be taken lightly. Remember, I'm the one with the precinct full of armed officers..." he trailed off menacingly.
The two leaders looked at him, their eyes filled with hate, and nodded. "Good," Prince said, "Now get the hell out of here." Ted and Frank went off in different directions, Ted being met by Benvolio. Ted got right to business as they walked, "Casualties?" "Six dead, most of the rest wounded in one way or another." "Goddamn," Ted said. "Where was Romeo through all this?" Benvolio asked. Ted sighed, "I haven't seen him out here for a long time. He has spent most of his days locked up indoors, and he spends his nights in the park by Euclid Avenue. He is greatly pained by something, though I don't know what. It hurts me greatly to see my cousin like this. I gave him a high position when we broke off from the Capulets solely because of his relation to me. Now though, he just sits around all day lamenting his life." "I could go talk to him," Benvolio suggested, "I'm one of his best friends, so maybe he'll be more receptive." Ted looked up, "If you could do this, I would be very greatful, Benvolio." Benvolio broke off without a word and headed for the park.
*****
Benvolio spotted Romeo from across the park. His blue eyed visage was firmly set upon the stars above, and he was lying on his back on a bench next to the baseball diamonds. Benvolio knew it was dangerous to be in the park at this hour, as it's center marked the turf divide, but he had to talk to Romeo. He walked up and sat on the bench next to his friend, "Isn't it a little late to be in the park?" Romeo turned to him, his brown hair rustling in the light wind, "Is it late already?" "Going on one now." Romeo turned back to the stars, barely visible through the New York air, "Time is hard to keep track of these days. Every second is just another second of torture."
"But why are you so tortured, Romeo?" Benvolio asked. "Don't bother yourself with it," Romeo said, with a dismissing wave of the hand, "It's nothing." Benvolio stared into his eyes, "It's something. Tell me, Romeo." Romeo sighed, "Rosaline." Benvolio gave a confused look, "What? Rosaline. That girl who lives over on New Lots? This is all over a girl?" "She is more than a girl," Romeo said dreamily, "She is a goddess. Yet she does not love me as I love her." Benvolio sighed, "Romeo, don't get yourself all worked up over a girl. Believe me, there are plenty of girls that you can get. There is no need to pine after her." Romeo looked back, "But she is like one million of those other girls, all in one! Her beauty is unparalleled, as surely as the subway is crowded at rush hour-" "Romeo!" Benvolio interrupted, "There are plenty of chicks more pretty than Rosaline, believe me." "I doubt that greatly." Benvolio sighed, giving up for a time, "Whatever, I'll prove it to you somehow. I'm going to go to the hangout. You coming?" Romeo shook his head, "No. I think I'll stay here a bit." "Suit yourself." Benvolio walked away, leaving his friend in the depths of the night.
