Rowdy Dead Productions

By David C. Daoust

Alfred Zhou’s initial judgement, that Corridor Crew’s popularity was all a plot to add notoriety to their lifestyle, was a far cry from the truth. In fact, now he was sure, it had far more to do with fear… with an imbalance, with a view of the world that forced these youngsters to seek out protection from within their own culture- to ward against that same culture.

It was a cult mentality.

They were being conditioned, one at a time, to enforce this strange culture.

It started with just living or working within one of these Districts. Districts that, if one did not dress right, or look right, one was largely ignored. Left alone in solitude, left to wonder what the problem was. That is until one conformed, either by accident, or just in an attempt to be recognized.

Once they matched, they were greeted, they were allowed to be part of it all. After such solitude, such acceptance would be a welcome change. Little by little wardrobes would change. Not necessarily to match that which the local crew found acceptable, but to avoid what they despised; to avoid that which was sure to garner negative reaction. It created a feeling of being involved, which, again, was welcome after such solitude.

But once recognized, once allowed to be, the manipulation changed. Because if they did not wear the right thing, or if they mixed it up one day– They were not just ignored, not anymore, now they were treated as a traitor; Fiercely rejected, abused, even attacked. Having already, unwittingly, accepted these ‘rules’, they found themselves taking them more seriously, reinforcing the conditioning, all to find out how to avoid a recurrence.

This fear spread through their lives, through their thoughts, until they had the rules down; until they were no longer a neophyte. Ultimately it taught them to look to the local Corridor Crew for how to dress, how to live, how to be.

This was their culture now. It was not until they felt as though they had a handle on it, they could finally feel safe again. Once this happened, unknowingly, a loyalty formed to this group. They found themselves checking others clothes, the same way they were being checked themselves. All to see if the colors matched their crew; their cult. If the colors don’t, they’d ignore, leaving the other in solitude; despite knowing what it felt like. If they present as a rival crew- they’ve been conditioned to hate them on sight. Only able to acknowledge those that dress right or look right, all in the hopes of not breaking these ‘rules’. That is until someone they thought they knew, that they thought they could trust, shows up in the wrong garb. Then they threaten, reject, abuse… even attack. Thus, the mentality spreads.

But why? What was the reason for this conditioning? The more Alfred Zhou dug, the worse it all got.

Most of these youngsters had no interest in being a part of these Crews. The youngsters, irrationally terrified of color combinations, were convinced they could not survive without a Crew to protect them. Truth was, once they recognized the rules, they unwittingly accepted that there were rules. The violence of this culture, of these turf wars, stood paramount in their mind. It was just nothing but fear until they found a way to fend it off. The only apparent choice, join the Crew.

Truly, many of these teens did not even want to be in these groups. The members that were actually violent, were minimal… but ultimately, they only needed one killer to enforce repercussions.

It was clear to Alfred Zhou, that what he was actually witnessing– was extortion.

That ‘why?’ Alfred Zhou sought, the one that asked why they were being conditioned, brainwashed, manipulated… was to charge membership fees; ‘Dues’. Each member was forced to kick a percentage of their coin up the ladder. It did not matter how they earned it. As long as the dues were paid– they were in the clear. If not, there would be penalties. They would answer to enforcers. If that was not extortion, Alfred Zhou did not know what was.

These ideas largely only covered those active within the crews; those that played along. Not those youngsters forced to change their dress- to jump through hoops. To appease a monster that marched through the corridors checking clothes, checking shoes… checking subtle shifts of hats.

Nor did it cover those that rose against, that rebelled against the Corridor Crews and stood firm on the idea that they should be able to wear what they wanted to wear. These were individuals, most of which threatened to be cut-down, one at a time, without the ability to stand against the tide.

Nor do these ideas cover those that just never recognized the rules; that there ever were rules. Those that found themselves wearing something in the wrong place, at the wrong time- all to meet their end. Remembered as a fool, for allowing fools to murder them.

Truth was, there were no color combinations that were not claimed by some crew within the districts. Even the clothing acceptable, to those trying remain neutral, were chosen by this same monster. It was what they were allowed to wear. What the population was ‘allowed’ to wear.

All of which, from the surface– is ridiculous.

That is, until you take into account the number of beatings, violent crimes, even flat-out murders, resultant in this ridiculous situation.

Alfred Zhou had his ‘why’… Now, he wanted his ‘who’. As in, ‘Who was conditioning these children to do so much stupid?’