It's a rainy Monday night in the slums, and I am very drunk.
I was running cocaine for a four hundred pound Colombian drug lord with one eye and a lisp named Jorge, when all of a sudden I get a call from my estranged brother. I hadn't spoken to him in 7 1/2 years, not since I stole his truck, filled it full of Jorge's prime product, then crashed it in a ditch and set it on fire fleeing the cops on I-95. 78 hours hiding in a sewer was a character-altering experience for me, and I resolved to be more careful after that. When I got back, I tried to apologize to my brother. He tried to stab me with the closest object to hand, which happened to be a garden gnome. We didn't talk after that incident. I still have clay shards in my chest cavity. In retrospect, that whole situation was a bit of a dick move on my part. But back to the situation at hand.
My brother calls me. He's an avid consumer of the giggle bush, which he buys from Jorge's hippy cousin, Maria. Maria lives on a farm, is legally married to a pig named Floops, and speaks only in Spongebob quotes. Despite that, she grows some damn good weed. Anyway, he learns from Maria that we're planning a big job in Gloucester, Mass, to bring in some cocaine to a reputable businessman named Fred Vukovic. He runs a tile manufacturing plant that's actually a front for a Croatian bestiality porn studio, and works 22 hour days. That's why he needs so much cocaine, to stay awake. My brother lives in Gloucester, and has a grudge against Fred related to the dynamiting of a certain tree that he liked to sit under during the summer. It technically wasn't even on his property. Well not even technically, it was clearly on Fred's land. Fred's land halfway across town. This did not stop my brother from bringing the case to court. He lost, and was out $35,000 dollars. He also got to add another man to his long list of "Lawyers who will no longer speak to me".
But I'm getting off track. So my brother, he tips off the cops, because he hates Fred for fucking retarded reasons. I, meanwhile, dislike Fred for extremely valid reasons: he runs an illegal Croatian bestiality porn studio. Also, he's kind of obnoxious. Looks down on the poor, you know? But whatever, job's a job. My brother warns me about the tip-off, because even after the Flaming Cocaine Truck Car Chase Incident, he doesn't want me to land in jail. I try to warn Jorge, but he tells me, and I quote "Deliver the fucking cocaine or I will rip your head off and fuck the neck hole with a cactus". So, I go to Fred's place with the cargo, and guess what, we get busted. Cops everywhere. Half my crew gets shot, and the rest get tazed and booked. I manage to escape by stealing Fred's illegal modded Segway and riding it to freedom along the suburban roads of an affluent neighborhood in Gloucester. Thing could haul ass, lemme tell you. Whatever Fred did to it, he was a genius. Thing got up to 75 miles an hour. It wasn't exactly inconspicuous though, and I eventually had to ditch it. I got outta town by clinging to the undercarriage of a Greyhound bus for about four hours.
Now I'm in a dive bar on the ass end of nowhere using my last $50 to get drunk. Because either the cops or Jorge will find me soon, and damned if I'm gonna face prison or a cactus neck-fucking sober.
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Topic: Pure Shitposting [Safeties not included!] (Read 4369 times)