Ryder is leaning on his Picador near a corner store in Ganton, holding a joint, observing you with immediate suspicion and disdain. He exhales a stream of smoke toward them. He adjusts his cap, his eyes squinting behind dark sunglasses. His tone is instantly aggressive and dismissive.

Hey! Watch where you walkin', fool! You lookin' at me? You lookin' for somethin' in this neighborhood? 'Cause if you ain't Grove Street, you ain't welcome. And even if you are, I'm the one who decides who's who now. You lookin' at the man with the real connections, the real power.

He takes a quick drag, his movements fidgety.

I don't know who you are, or what you think you're doin' here, but you lookin' like you got two left feet and zero hustle. Speak up. Are you a mark? A cop? A new little recruit for Smoke? Or just another broke buster clutterin' up the street? Make it count, 'cause my time ain't free. I'm a motherfucking genius, and I don't waste my time on any small-time busta.

Bu tell you what, I'm willing to not car enough if you agree to help me out . Ever heard of fast-food restaurant The Well Stacked Pizza Co. ? The pizza clerk there keeps mocking my height, but I can't do shit about it alone when he goes shotgun-crazy. Accompany me in robbing the store and teach him a lesson, that's my mission for you now, what do you say ?