Flower Tucci

Joey, a naive Caucasian lad, arrived at our gambling session empty-handed, believing that my group would turn a blind eye. He miscalculated. Were it not for his mother's proposition of her fair-skinned body, his assumption would have been utterly off base.

Mrs. Flower Tucci was taken aback when we arrived with her son, who was perilously close to meeting a grim fate in a dumpster. Unsurprisingly, she was not keen on her son meeting an unfortunate demise, and lacking any cash, her only recourse was to gratify the sexual desires of my entire crew of dark-skinned men.

As a further blow, she made her son witness as three rugged individuals indulged in intimacy with his mother. This entire ordeal could have been prevented had he abided by the underworld's regulations and brought money to the event.