The young man was shuffling through the skyway in the manner of a duck. Toes pointed out, legs as far apart as possible to keep his pants from falling from his knees to his ankles. But this was not the most notable part of his appearance. He had neon pink beaded cornrows, a pink backpack, pink watch, pink handkerchief hanging out of his back pocket, and a pair of Barbie pink Chuck's. He was a vision in pink. He looked like he just finished walking a Susan G Kommen race.
A woman walking past him shouted, "You ain't gangster! Pink ain't gangster!"
He stopped, spun, and shouted right back, "Gangsters do what they want! And I'm gonna rock pink!"
So there you have it folks, Minneapolis gangsters wear pink.
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