CRACK ATTACK!
You prance over to the filth-choked alleyway behind your decrepit apartments, in search of that old black bastard who slangs boulders. He's not the most reliable of your hook-ups, sometimes he takes five minutes to finish a transaction - sometimes he takes hours. But the stuff he gets is pretty decent and at this point you're not too picky. You just need some crack.
You find him sleeping in a pile of refuse, cuddled up with a toothless whore and Pat Robertson of the 700 club, of all people. It's a really precious scene, and you almost feel bad when you interrupt his slumber with a swift kick to his ribs. "Hey, dude!" you exclaim in earnest. "I need some crack!!! Get me some crack!!" The old bastard lets loose a string of imprecations but eventually rises from his bed and holds out his hand expectantly. You fork over the loot, adding, "Don't take too long!! And don't smoke none of my shit, neither!" Of course you know he IS going to pinch the sack, but you can live with a finder's fee as long as you can just smoke some of your beloved rocks when it's all said and done.
The old bastard hobbles away, and you make yourself comfortable in the pile of refuse. The toothless whore and Pat don't seem to mind. Finding some measure of peace, you eventually doze off... You awaken hours later, cold and alone. Dammit.
You find him sleeping in a pile of refuse, cuddled up with a toothless whore and Pat Robertson of the 700 club, of all people. It's a really precious scene, and you almost feel bad when you interrupt his slumber with a swift kick to his ribs. "Hey, dude!" you exclaim in earnest. "I need some crack!!! Get me some crack!!" The old bastard lets loose a string of imprecations but eventually rises from his bed and holds out his hand expectantly. You fork over the loot, adding, "Don't take too long!! And don't smoke none of my shit, neither!" Of course you know he IS going to pinch the sack, but you can live with a finder's fee as long as you can just smoke some of your beloved rocks when it's all said and done.
The old bastard hobbles away, and you make yourself comfortable in the pile of refuse. The toothless whore and Pat don't seem to mind. Finding some measure of peace, you eventually doze off... You awaken hours later, cold and alone. Dammit.