TONY: We gonna split, man. It's done. Go back and pick up the zip, like we said. Later!

(POET is already moving toward the back of the alley, bringing his radio. MANNY has faded into the basement shakeout. PRINCE, BILLY, RIX, and TONY walk together to the corner, where they go their separate ways.)

The next morning.

All the boys except MANNY and BILLY are still pumped up on last night's blood.

TONY: We don't want to walk into school together, but we get together inside, right? Rix, stash that weed, man…I can smell it from here. You don't need to be nervous man, it went perfect.

RIX: I ain't nervous, man. Just a little smoke to celebrate.

TONY: Billy, you stay by me today. See the rest of you men in the shop later.

Shop Class. The word has spread and TONY is waiting for the approach.

(LACEY, the leader of the Golden Dragons, slides in next to him.)

LACEY: Hey, brother, is it true what I been hearing?

TONY: Yeah, man. The Counts took too much shit from that roller. And you can't take shit when you small or the other clubs…you know, the nigger clubs…man, they go down on us and we get blown out.

LACEY: Mebbe you thinkin' about joining us?

TONY: Well, we did, man, But we heard you all was going a bit sporty, like no more boppin' when the Youth Board faggot says and all like that…

LACEY: (Quietly) Watch your mouth, man.

TONY: Brother, I'm glad to hear you talk like that. Sure, we all knew it was a bullshit rep they was layin' on you. Man, we proud to join a true fighting club. We get together, straighten the niggers right out, right?

LACEY: (Mollified) Yeah, baby. Where's your boys now?

TONY: Manny is out of school, man. Billy and Poet are over near the printing press, and Prince is on my right hand here.

LACEY: Give me skin, Poet, you all right!

POET: My pleasure, President.

LACEY: Hey! You swift, baby. Looks like you got prime boys, Tony.

TONY: The best. Rix just rolled in. He's by the tool chest. Hey! Isn't that Priest of the Black Barons?

LACEY: Yeah. The fuckin' nigger thinks he's bad shit. Only reason we don't jump him before this is 'cause we don't waste our time with nothing less than an all–out. Anyway, boppin' in school is no fuckin' good—we lose that anti–poverty green behind shit like that…

(PRIEST is cleaning a linoleum–block print with a white rag, singing softly to himself. RIX walks past and brushes against him. PRIEST looks up, catches RIX 's eye, says nothing. RIX wheels around, loud.)

RIX: Motherfucker, watch where you put your feet!

PRIEST: You talkin' to me, paddy?

RIX: You heard me, nigger!

PRIEST: (Not raising his voice,flat–toned) Outside. After school. You and me.

RIX: (Contemptuous) I'll be there, punk.

PRIEST's boys move in fast and RIX is quickly surrounded. He backs against the printing press, watching hands reach into pockets. The scene freezes.

LACEY: Dragons!

Other boys drop their work and move toward the printing press, reaching for the kind of instant weapons you find in shop class. About thirty boys are milling around, waiting for the match to hit the gasoline, when the SHOP TEACHER jumps in the middle.

TEACHER: Get back where you came from you punk bastards! I'm warning you, one fucking move and I call the cops. This is the last damn time I'm telling you…move!

The groups part. Hands return to pockets. PRIEST walks up to LACEY.

PRIEST: That paddy–punk one of your boys, huh? Want to make it an all–out tonight?

LACEY: Whatsamatter, boy? Afraid to go up against the man who burned the heat?

PRIEST: Be outside after school. We see who burns who. And maybe I see you afterward.

LACEY: I'll be there.

The schoolyard looks like the recreation yard in any maximum–security prison: high fence, blacktop, slit–window buildings. About seventy boys are on each side of the yard, waiting for the gladiators.

LACEY: How you want it, fair one?

PRIEST: Okay by me. I don't need a blade for that punk.

MANNY and RIX are off to one side, whispering.

MANNY: Take this, man. (He shows a steel can–opener, fattened at one end and sharpened so that it glints m the faint light). I tape this to your wrist—you slice him when you get in close.

RIX: Man, I don't need that. I kill the nigger with my bare hands. Kill him like I killed that fuckin' cop.

MAMMY: Rix, that is Priest of the Black Barons! He is a stone vicious killer, brother. I know for a fact he's killed four men. You take this, man, or you're dead.

RIX: Yeah, Yeah, okay…just for insurance.

TONY: Happy nigger–hunting, man!

LACEY: You take Priest and you next Warlord of the Golden Dragons!

POET: Go, man. Kill the motherfucker!

(They circle shyly, PRIEST the confident veteran of a hundred such battles. The Dragons scream encouragement at RIX—the Barons beat a heavy silent tattoo with their minds, disciplined. PRIEST feints with a left hook and catches RIX with a kick to the groin. RIX hits the ground and PRIEST dropkicks him in the face. RIX rolls away and comes up throwing a handful of pebbles and dirt. PRIEST fakes backing off then suddenly moves in, drops his shoulder and drives a straight right hand to RIX's head.

RIX throws up his hands to protect his face and PRIEST is all over him with heavy, driving punches. RIX gives ground, not returning the fire. His nose is squashed flat on his face and his eyes are glazed.

PRIEST slams a fist into RIX's stomach, watches him double over, and steps back like an artist admiring his work. RIX feels the slippery steel at his wrist and lets it fall into his cupped hand. He pulls back his right foot, drops to one knee.)

PRIEST: You down on your knees for me, paddy–boy? You wanna suck some good black cock?

RIX: (A dead man's voice) Come on, nigger. Just come on.

(PRIEST charges and the steel spike whips like a jet from around RIX's knees…catches PRIEST full in the face and slices his cheek off like raw meat. A slab of flesh flies away and lands at the feet of the assembled Dragons. PRIEST is down on the ground rolling with his face in, the dirt, screaming. Blood and white muscle tissue foam up between his clenched hands. The Barons all reach for their weapons. RIX stares fixated at PRIEST on Old ground before him. He slowly climbs to his feet. PRIEST struggles to his knees to face him. He pulls his hands from his face with an effort of will. One eye lies on the blacktop next to him. His voice comes from the grave.)

PRIEST: You dead.

(Police sirens split the air and the gangs turn to run. MANNY bends and picks up PRIEST's eyeball He walks over to RIX)

MANNY: This is yours, man. You earned it. I told you you needed the blade, right, baby?

RTX: (Dazed, pocketing the eyeball) Yeah, Manny. Thanks. You all right, brother.

LACEY: Tony, come to our clubhouse tonight…and bring your boys. And Rix, man, you got heart to spare. You my man. Later!