The Vøid in Yøur Eyes

Get in!

John took some time wearing proper clothes.
To John, proper meant clothes that hid five throwing knives, three SMGs, six handguns, two silenced pistols, one shotgun, a machete, ten different types of grenades and a pocket sized battle axe beneath them.
He even hid a small six shooter in his underwear.
The first gun he ever owned, hidden very close to his junk.
As it should've been.

"Are ya ready yet?"

"Yeah yeah, c'mon in."

John opened the door for Slacker.
Slacker walked in all wobbly.

"Nice place."

"You're high while on duty? Aren't you supposed to be selling?"

"I'm not on duty. I am the duty. There's never a good time not to be high!"

Tøny: "What a junkie. Somehow he's more of a mess than you are."

"All right then. Whatcha got for me?"

Slacker pounded his suitcase onto John's coffee table.

"I got every single solution to all humanity's problems, right here my friend. Take a look."

"What, what are these? I don't know these things. What the hell is that? It looks like an old stamp my grandma would use to send mails to her friends. What the fuck do you do with that? How is that a drug? You collect stamps or somethin'?"

"That my friend, is LSD. And you put it on your tongue until it melts into all sorts of acidic wonders. Would you like to try some?"

"Uh... I'm not sure. I'm more of a weed guy."

"Ah yes. Cannabis! Take a hit of this little devil right here."

He put a joint in John's mouth and lit it.
John coughed a couple times.

"Wow this is some good shit."

"It is, isn't it? Grew it myself. With all the love and care in the world. That's how you grow good cannabis."

Slacker said as he put two LSDs in his mouth.

"Oh man. I think I'm getting a little too high. This stuff's effective!"

"Nonsense. There's no such thing as too high, pal. Now, I've been thinking of hittin' the road for a while now. Ridin' through the deserts to nowhere, all carefree and maxed out on highness. Just snortin' and smokin', not givin' a shit. You don't look like you've got anything better to do. Wanna come with?"

"What happened to getting rid of the drugs asap?"

John struggled to speak as he was the highest he's ever been.
He's never had anything this strong before.
He was wondering where else they could go from here.
Would he ever get this high again?

"I figured I should keep them. Use them myself. These gems are too good to throw away."

"Good choice. *cough* Excellent choice."

Slacker walked out the door with his suitcase.
He drove a rainbow colored 328 GTS Conciso Ferrari.
He glued a giant pink basket on the back of the car with super glue.
It had some old, probably well over expired junk food in it.
What the fuck is wrong with this story and these characters?
He put his suitcase in the basket.
Then he looked back.
John was still in the house.
He walked back and peaked his head through the door.

"You comin' or not?"

"I'm, I'm comin'. Just need to get a grip and... stand up. Woah! Nope! Too soon, too soon! Can't walk."

"C'mon man, get a hold of yourself. You just smoked some weed."

Slacker helped him get up and walked him to his car.

"Wow. Nice ride."

Slacker hopped in the car and looked at John straight in the eyes.

"Well, what're ya waitin' for? Get in!"

He smiled.

John hopped in the car.

"Y'know, you have a really strange smile."

"Why thank you. Everybody tells me so."

Tøny: "What the hell are you getting yourself into?"

"Adventure!"

"What?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing. I was just uh... talking to myself."

"I see. I'm starting to like you, pal."

Slacker started up the car, turned on the radio and drove off at a hundred miles per hour.

"Woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooohoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!"

They both shouted.