Okay - you know all you people who read last week's teaser and you were all "OMG!! I'm gonna go ballistic before Friday!!!" Yeah, you. I'm talking to you. Don't read this. It just gets worse.
|JadaPattinson tweeted this out earlier - I have no idea where it came from, but I love it!|
I told ya last time, and you didn't listen...
Just look at the pretty picture and then move on...
Wait until Friday...
I'm warning you...
Stop!! Stop now!
You never listen...sigh...
The smell was exactly how I remembered it. Sweat, urine, unwashed bodies – it was like a VW van in the middle of Woodstock if Woodstock was held in a nasty old swamp instead of out on a farm. Max was sitting on a couch at the far side of the room with some strung out chick hovering around him, begging for a slam and offering to blow him for free if he just gave her a little. I approached him slowly as she looked up to me with dead eyes.
“Eddie!” Max cried out as I came near. “How ya doin’, bud? Haven’t seen you in forever! Damn, you look like you’ve been hitting the gym! I thought you were all cleaned up or some such shit now. You got a job at a bar or something, Eddie?”
Max had a tendency to ask a lot of stupid questions, none of which he actually expected to have answered.
“Hey,” I said, trying not to cringe at the use of the nickname, which had never been a favorite of mine. “What’s been shakin’, bro? I need a bit.”
“You know I’m your man,” Max said with a grin. “Anytime, anywhere! You name it, I got it. Weed, blow, meth – what you want, bud?”
“Just some H, bro,” I told him. I didn’t know why he was bothering to ask – I never touched the other shit. I hadn’t even smoked weed more than a handful of times. I was always about the smack. I just didn’t see any point in going halfway on such shit.
Max shoved the girl off his lap and turned to the side. He opened up one of those boxes that was meant to hold fishing lures or something like that and started rummaging around in it. There was all kinds of shit inside, and he had everything I needed.
Tyrannosaurus’ Tackle Box, I thought to myself.
My hand clenched at my side, and I had to swallow a lump in my throat.
The chick with the dead eyes watched me as I pointed out everything I needed, and Max named a price. I swallowed, handed him most of the rent money, and walked away with a fresh needle, a rubber tube, and a little balloon of white powder. I shoved them deep into my jacket pocket as I walked slowly back down the street. I passed other junkies, hookers, pimps, and dirty cops without giving them a second glance as I made my way back to my apartment.
Not even the apartment anymore.
You didn't listen last week either, did you?
See you Friday!