CICADA MAN
the opening — prologue + first chapter, free
PROLOGUE
Why do they call me Cicada Man? I could reveal right now, but nah, I'm the type who shows rather than tells, if you follow my drift. And why do these insects freeze up and listen when I whistle? Honestly, I've never bothered to ask. Some mysteries are better off dancing in the mist.
Look, it wasn't about the money, I can tell you that straight up, in confidence. Pride's a sneaky bastard, twists you up inside, and family? Man, that can gut you deeper than any blade. But hey, let's not jump the gun here. A guy like Jay Dice, let's be real, he's a throwback hero, the kind you root for even when the odds are stacked.
Shit, Jay's a full-on legend in Thailand these days, never gonna pay for another Leo beer as long as he breathes that humid air. He stared down pure evil, walked a path so twisted it'd make your head spin, and came out the other side telling the tale. But it wasn't until I intimately got to know his past that I knew what he was capable of. Yeah, there was a bit of persuasion on my end, but you'll forgive me by the finish. After all, I'm just a man, like you, like Jay, like Sonny.
But please keep in mind, this is my rendition of what we would call in America a classic tall tale. So take it with a grain of salt if you like, or not. Either way, come and take a stroll with the Cicada Man because if I know anything for sure it's this. This life never plays out how we expect, but revenge is a dish best served in the late afternoon, my brother.
PART ONE — BIPOLAR JAY
JAY MUTHA FUCKIN DICE
Jay Dice paces the empty hallway. His afro soaked, mania creeps in like a low static nobody else can hear. He pauses as his phone translates the building directory: Siam Coin, Floor 3.
“Summertime in That Cutlass” by Nipsey Hussle comes through the elevator speakers. Jay looks up, double-takes, and catches his reflection in the steel wall. A faded “R.I.P Mac Dre” scribbled across his neck reflects back.
Doors separate. The elevator song is also blasting through a sprawling, decadent office full of neon signs, oversized bamboo chairs, and a menacing white tiger statue. A young blonde Thai receptionist, eighteen at most, sings off-key, chewing gum, finally looking up.
“Hello.”
“Jay Dice. Here to meet the founders.”
“Dope. One sec.”
Twirling, she disappears amongst the decor. Jay takes the room in. It reeks of new money. Two founders step out from behind the tiger.
“Jay mutha fuckin Dice,” Shawn says.
Jay stays skeptical. “Yup.”
“Another brotha in the buildin. Bout God damn time. I’m Shawn. This is my co-founder Daniel.”
Daniel tilts his head. “You technical?”
“Uh, no. Well kinda. But naw, I’m the writer.”
Daniel’s bare feet and gnarly yellow curled nails catch Jay’s attention.
“Humidity,” Daniel says. “Normal reaction. Will this be an issue?”
“Issue? No issue.”
Jay’s eyes move to Shawn’s camo-stained pistols.
“I know what you’re thinking. Come on man, let’s fire off a few rounds!” Shawn says.
They walk past rows of stunning Thai girls in Apple earbuds. Each one wears the same dead-eyed customer-service smile. A few have faint bruises under the makeup, the kind you only notice if you’re looking. Jay looks.
“Yes sir,” Shawn says. “We hire a specific type.”
“Young hot females,” Daniel blurts.
“No fuckin shit, Daniel,” Shawn says. “Implication was there, damnit. We’ve been over implications.”
Jay asks, “So you guys run a crypto company, yeah?”
“We touch a few industries,” Shawn says.
“But you ICO’d in 2021?”
“Right. For twenty million.”
“Nice.”
“Yup. It was, but we got forced out of the States. Red fuckin tape everywhere. But fuck it, we been doin great out here.”
Daniel leans in and asks, “Thai pussy?”
“What?” Jay asks.
“Have you had it?”
“Maybe in college,” Jay says.
Daniel mumbles, “Uncle Sam pussy!”
Jay shoots him a what-the-fuck look.
Shawn jumps in, “What my associate means, Jay, is you’ll need a lifeguard when you’re writin for us the way you’ll be swimmin in it.”
Jay forces a smile. “I’ll keep my head above water.”
— end of the sample —
Cicada Man © 2026 Jay Dice · Dice Man Publishing · 135 pages