Broken street. Dilapidated houses, regular screaming, the occasional gunshot. Breaking glass, arrays of liquor bottles. Beer cans, soda cans and garbage cans all over. Kids carrying guns to school, adults drunk and fallen on their own porch steps, grass growing wild on lawns, creeping up the boarded broken houses like sneaky parasite sucking the life out of it's host.
The corner of the street. Several broken Carlsberg bottles glinting like emerald in the bleak sunlight of the afternoon. Weather: overcast and murky. As always. A group of four eighteen year old boys, bordering on the edge of maturity, long hair and short thoughts, swathed in a cloudy haze of bluish smoke, cigarette butts littered at their feet. But why? Shouldn't the cigarettes be in their mouths, squeezing the life out of them one lung cancer cell at a time? Oh no, these boys were more careful. They didn't want to risk dying SO soon, so they resorted to "healthier" methods. Just like the rest of us were using biodegradable materials in a synthetic polymer world to save Earth, these boys were using more "nature-friendly" products.
"Going Green" they called it.
The odour of the smoke was bitingly sweet with a tangy sourness to it, so unlike the choking nicotine saturated smoke of a cigarette. After all, nicotine is nicotine and very bad for you. Why, weed just made you miss your synapses for a little while you traveled to La La Land and paid a visit to the rainbow colored llamas there. Oh no, marijuana is the way to go, so much better than cigarettes.
"Man, toss me a roll man, I need another" said one of the boys, slurring on his words. He was dressed in a red hoodie and pants at least three sizes too large, his white Addidas gleaming. Weed SIMPLY wasn't enough for this young man, he had to drink himself senseless one a bottle of Jack Daniel's as well. The grip on his bottle was shaking as he took another glug. His mate tossed him a tightly rolled bud of weed and he lit it up and inhaled deeply. Immediately he was in his happy place.
"You think we should go home now man?" said another one of the boys. This one was in a white tank top, his arms tattooed, a black beanie on his head. A bag was slung on one of his shoulders. The boy in the red hoodie had his eyes closed and did not answer. The other one, the one who tossed the roll [he was in a yellow Converse jersey] replied from his perch on the graffitied dumpster.
"Why wouldja wanna go home? This not good enough for ya?" he asked threateningly. But of course he was too stoned to even sound remotely interested. His bloodshot eyes were glassy and out of focus.
"Naw, man, just that ma would be wondering where I went" replied beanie.
"Yo ma's to drunk to care man. She must be screwing some white trash piece o' shit right about now" he answered.
The fourth boy was seated on the dirty ground of the alleyway, the laces of his extremely dirt sneakers tangled up. He giggled stupidly.
"Yeah Stan, every'un knows yo ma's a ho" he said.
"Shut the fuck up ULYSSES" grumbled beanie, using his friend's lesser known middle name. At that, the red hoodie opened his eyes and laughed.
"Ulysses? Man, how come y'never told us? We your homies bro" he said laughing.
"Shut up all o'you" grumbled Ulysses. "Joe, you got some coke on ya?" he asked. Yellow Converse mumbled incoherently for a little while looking around his pocket.
"Fifty dollars man, that's how much I coulda sold this for" he complained.
"Man you already made five hundred off the other lot" argued Ulysses.
"Yeah yeah whatever" replied Joe and tossed a plastic packet of white power to Ulysses. He pocketed it. The other two boys watched the exchange uninterestedly. Red hoodie took another puff.
"Man, who you taking that coke to?" he asked.
"I ain't taking it to anyone Brad" he answered.
"I dun hardly see you do coke anymore man, and I know you ain't taking it to your asshole brother" argued Brad.
"It's a chick ain't it Ulysses huh?" teased Stan.
Ulysses didn't reply. Yellow Converse Joe turned his gaze to Ulysses.
"You givin' my shit to some chick man? I'll beat you're crap head to pulp asshole" he said, standing up.
"Joe Joe, man it ain't just some chick man, I think I'm in love with her. She lives on Upper North-cut" Ulysses admitted.
At that, all other three laughed.
"You just drunk and stoopid boy. Ain't any chick living on Upper North-cut gonna like you fail 'tard. Mussbe some crack whore" commented Brad.
"Why you always gotta look down upon me man? Her name's Julia and she's freakin' hot man. And she knows how to beg man.. Damn, she's begs me for coke it's ucking irresistible man" said Ulysses, lost in thought.
"Is that the only thing she begs for huh?" laughed Stan.
"Shut up Stan" Ulysses mumbled.
"You maybe fucking this chick, that don' give you right to give my shit to her Ulysses. It's my fucking shit" he Joe said.
"C'mon man, this one's special" said Ulysses.
"You know your fucking place boy. No one gets free shit from me 'cept you three and you ain't gonna be going around giving it off. Anyone who wants it gotta buy it"
"Aww man-" interrupted Ulysses but Joe cut him short.
"If this chick wants coke so bad and is fuckin' rich enough to live in Upper North, then she can bloody well buy it" concluded Joe. "Or else Imma give you suck a kick in the nuts she won't have anything to blow on"
Brad and Stan giggled while Joe waited. Joe, being the leader was fair minded.
"If she gains my trust though, she can hang with us, and I'll discount her pay, but she still gotta pay for shit aite? You bring her to meet us. If she bitches about us, Imma kill you boy" Joe added.
"She won't man, she hates her white trash parents and shit, that's why she got into coke" Ulysses assured.
"I don't need a fuckin' CV asshole. Just, bring here tomorrw aite? But she gotta pay for her shit. We in agreement?"
" 'Kay Joe. Julia. Here. Tomorrow" Ulysses said.
"We better be getting home man" Brad cut in, nodding towards Stan. "My ma might go and bitch to Stan's ma and you know how Stan's ma is when she's drunk". Brad concealed his head in his hoodie and took the last gulp of his Daniels. Stan adjusted the strap of his bag.
"Later man" he said, slapping Ulysses and Joe on the back while Brad followed suit.
"I gotta go too man" said Ulysses, standing up.
"Bring your chick here tomorrow" reminded Joe.
"Yeah yeah" he replied.
"And she pays for her shit!" Joe shouted after him. Ulysses waved a hand in acknowledgment. Joe smiled on securing another revenue generating means and took a puff of his nearly finished bud. Who say's getting stoned and doing coke makes things worse? It's so fuckin' awesome.
Another day, another business deal. Joe smiled.
The corner of the street. Several broken Carlsberg bottles glinting like emerald in the bleak sunlight of the afternoon. Weather: overcast and murky. As always. A group of four eighteen year old boys, bordering on the edge of maturity, long hair and short thoughts, swathed in a cloudy haze of bluish smoke, cigarette butts littered at their feet. But why? Shouldn't the cigarettes be in their mouths, squeezing the life out of them one lung cancer cell at a time? Oh no, these boys were more careful. They didn't want to risk dying SO soon, so they resorted to "healthier" methods. Just like the rest of us were using biodegradable materials in a synthetic polymer world to save Earth, these boys were using more "nature-friendly" products.
"Going Green" they called it.
The odour of the smoke was bitingly sweet with a tangy sourness to it, so unlike the choking nicotine saturated smoke of a cigarette. After all, nicotine is nicotine and very bad for you. Why, weed just made you miss your synapses for a little while you traveled to La La Land and paid a visit to the rainbow colored llamas there. Oh no, marijuana is the way to go, so much better than cigarettes.
"Man, toss me a roll man, I need another" said one of the boys, slurring on his words. He was dressed in a red hoodie and pants at least three sizes too large, his white Addidas gleaming. Weed SIMPLY wasn't enough for this young man, he had to drink himself senseless one a bottle of Jack Daniel's as well. The grip on his bottle was shaking as he took another glug. His mate tossed him a tightly rolled bud of weed and he lit it up and inhaled deeply. Immediately he was in his happy place.
"You think we should go home now man?" said another one of the boys. This one was in a white tank top, his arms tattooed, a black beanie on his head. A bag was slung on one of his shoulders. The boy in the red hoodie had his eyes closed and did not answer. The other one, the one who tossed the roll [he was in a yellow Converse jersey] replied from his perch on the graffitied dumpster.
"Why wouldja wanna go home? This not good enough for ya?" he asked threateningly. But of course he was too stoned to even sound remotely interested. His bloodshot eyes were glassy and out of focus.
"Naw, man, just that ma would be wondering where I went" replied beanie.
"Yo ma's to drunk to care man. She must be screwing some white trash piece o' shit right about now" he answered.
The fourth boy was seated on the dirty ground of the alleyway, the laces of his extremely dirt sneakers tangled up. He giggled stupidly.
"Yeah Stan, every'un knows yo ma's a ho" he said.
"Shut the fuck up ULYSSES" grumbled beanie, using his friend's lesser known middle name. At that, the red hoodie opened his eyes and laughed.
"Ulysses? Man, how come y'never told us? We your homies bro" he said laughing.
"Shut up all o'you" grumbled Ulysses. "Joe, you got some coke on ya?" he asked. Yellow Converse mumbled incoherently for a little while looking around his pocket.
"Fifty dollars man, that's how much I coulda sold this for" he complained.
"Man you already made five hundred off the other lot" argued Ulysses.
"Yeah yeah whatever" replied Joe and tossed a plastic packet of white power to Ulysses. He pocketed it. The other two boys watched the exchange uninterestedly. Red hoodie took another puff.
"Man, who you taking that coke to?" he asked.
"I ain't taking it to anyone Brad" he answered.
"I dun hardly see you do coke anymore man, and I know you ain't taking it to your asshole brother" argued Brad.
"It's a chick ain't it Ulysses huh?" teased Stan.
Ulysses didn't reply. Yellow Converse Joe turned his gaze to Ulysses.
"You givin' my shit to some chick man? I'll beat you're crap head to pulp asshole" he said, standing up.
"Joe Joe, man it ain't just some chick man, I think I'm in love with her. She lives on Upper North-cut" Ulysses admitted.
At that, all other three laughed.
"You just drunk and stoopid boy. Ain't any chick living on Upper North-cut gonna like you fail 'tard. Mussbe some crack whore" commented Brad.
"Why you always gotta look down upon me man? Her name's Julia and she's freakin' hot man. And she knows how to beg man.. Damn, she's begs me for coke it's ucking irresistible man" said Ulysses, lost in thought.
"Is that the only thing she begs for huh?" laughed Stan.
"Shut up Stan" Ulysses mumbled.
"You maybe fucking this chick, that don' give you right to give my shit to her Ulysses. It's my fucking shit" he Joe said.
"C'mon man, this one's special" said Ulysses.
"You know your fucking place boy. No one gets free shit from me 'cept you three and you ain't gonna be going around giving it off. Anyone who wants it gotta buy it"
"Aww man-" interrupted Ulysses but Joe cut him short.
"If this chick wants coke so bad and is fuckin' rich enough to live in Upper North, then she can bloody well buy it" concluded Joe. "Or else Imma give you suck a kick in the nuts she won't have anything to blow on"
Brad and Stan giggled while Joe waited. Joe, being the leader was fair minded.
"If she gains my trust though, she can hang with us, and I'll discount her pay, but she still gotta pay for shit aite? You bring her to meet us. If she bitches about us, Imma kill you boy" Joe added.
"She won't man, she hates her white trash parents and shit, that's why she got into coke" Ulysses assured.
"I don't need a fuckin' CV asshole. Just, bring here tomorrw aite? But she gotta pay for her shit. We in agreement?"
" 'Kay Joe. Julia. Here. Tomorrow" Ulysses said.
"We better be getting home man" Brad cut in, nodding towards Stan. "My ma might go and bitch to Stan's ma and you know how Stan's ma is when she's drunk". Brad concealed his head in his hoodie and took the last gulp of his Daniels. Stan adjusted the strap of his bag.
"Later man" he said, slapping Ulysses and Joe on the back while Brad followed suit.
"I gotta go too man" said Ulysses, standing up.
"Bring your chick here tomorrow" reminded Joe.
"Yeah yeah" he replied.
"And she pays for her shit!" Joe shouted after him. Ulysses waved a hand in acknowledgment. Joe smiled on securing another revenue generating means and took a puff of his nearly finished bud. Who say's getting stoned and doing coke makes things worse? It's so fuckin' awesome.
Another day, another business deal. Joe smiled.
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