I asked him why he was carrying a stick with nails jutting out of the end. It was obviously not a piece of scrap swiped from a poorly-guarded construction site, but a hand-made weapon crafted with love and care. The rust on those nails wasn’t accidental.
“It’s fah mashin people wit. Dem young guys no gon mess wit me because dem know what dem gon get!”
Do you have much trouble with the young guys messin with you?
He looked at me like I was crazy and held up his stick…
“Av COORse not!”