The kid bent over in a deep wheeze; he thought this was so damn funny. Chemo reached under the car seat and got a .22-caliber pistol, which was fitted with a cheap mail-order suppressor. Without saying a word, he took aim across the roof of the Bonneville and shot the basketball clean out of the kid’s hands. The explosion sounded like the world’s biggest fart, but the kids from the project didn’t think it was funny. They ran like hell. As Chemo drove away, he decided he had taught the youngsters a valuable lesson: Never make fun of a man’s complexion.
