Gumball is a specialist contact.
Yo, what do you get if you cross a fat kid with an 8-bit video game and a lollipop?�
�I don�t know...�
�You�you fat fuck!� Followed by the obligatory punch to the shoulder, back or gut. Hanging out with cousin Zombie was always like sitting on a minefield and throwing stones; guaranteed something or someone was gonna explode at some point. No prizes for guessing who took the most shrapnel, though. Hell, that�s how you end up with a name like Gumball. Zombie coined it, and before you knew it, everyone else was using it too. Most of the Gs don�t even remember Gumball�s real name. Back in the day, he used to go by a simpler one, a normal, unimaginative moniker: �Fat Fuck�� another one of Zombie�s. Compared to that, Gumball was a fuckin� godsend.
But loyalty�s a funny thing. He gets no end of shit from his cousin, even now, but that doesn�t mean everyone else gets free rein. Prime example: when Priest and those Bloodrose pricks gave him shit outside Celestial, started mouthing off at him, said he wasn�t shit, that he was a fucking pussy and dared him to step up.
Then one of Priest�s boys starts spraying green spray-paint in his face and pushing him around& That�s a bad fucking move, �specially seeing as Zombie and the rest of his crew were in the area, getting their shit straight over at Fell�s place. A single call from Veronika Lee, squealing down the phone with that anime schoolgirl voice of hers, and the whole block was suddenly filled with Hazard Ciscos, G-King low-riders, and muscle cars, and guess who stepping out? Talk about a beat down. Priest don�t come out much these days. Hard to preach tough-talk when you�ve had the teeth kicked out of your face.
That was the day everything changed for Gumball. Zombie gave him big props for his part in it. Until the cavalry arrived, he�d been facing them dudes down pretty much by himself. No guns, nothing. Just Shift and Veronika Lee, a couple of fat-tip markers and a skateboard. May as well have been standing in his boxers. The Gs gave him respect for that. Started to leave him be.
From then on, Gumball did all his own stomping. That�s when his joking around really kicked in. Self-confidence can make all the difference coming up. He spoke his mind to whoever the fuck he thought it about whenever he thought it. Was good at it too. Being the brunt of all the jokes for so long meant he�d figured out a few of his own. Had a real taste for pissing off the Bloodroses especially.
One summer, this dude drives by New Cross � one of Suji�s clan � peeps Gumball taking the trucks of a snapped board with some rinky-dink screwdriver. Gumball�s flying his more exotic colors that day: G-King hoody, clown makeup, the works. The customization craze in full effect. Mr Bloodrose and his crew don�t like clowns much � too much joy involved � so they pull over and start fucking with him. He tells them �stop screwing around� and sticks the driver through Mr Bloodrose�s collarbone. Ba-boom tish. But it gets better. Then he pulls the biggest fucking ACT44 you�ve ever seen. Pure gold. Long distance scope. Extended barrel. Not the kind of piece for your typical skater. Turns out Gumball�s far from your typical skater.
What Zombie�s failed to mention to anyone is that this young cuz here has been buying and selling shit for years. Why, he�s a bona fide entrepreneur: on marketplace fencing shit, on the streets boosting Rapiers for Grayson Fell, out on the web collecting all the best and rarest sneakers, comic books, vinyls, Sofia Vascucci�s sex tapes. You name it; whatever you want, Gumball can definitely get it.
Every crew needs a fixer or two � someone to hand out the really good candies, the kind they keep back for all the A-graders. Gumball�s a pure fixer now. If you�re ever in need of fresh gear, maybe stop by New Cross sometime, bring a brew and crack a joke with your new best friend.