"I GOT THE GAS AND THE COKE, I DONT SELL MOLLY NO MORE!!!! I KEEP THE WHITE AND THE GREEN AND IT GOTTA BE A PINT IF YOU LOOKING FOR THE LEAN!!!" Floyd yelled out the lyrics to Makonne's hit song as he sped down the street smoking a blunt of some of the finest cannabis in Northern California. "WHOO!!!!" He took a few more puffs of the marijuana cigar, now nothing more than a roach. He pulled into the parking lot of the gas station, swerving around a car that almost backed into him. "Stupid ass motherfucker!!" he cursed as he pulled into a parking spot, rolling down all four windows of his vehicle to toss the roach out.

Marijuana smoke poured out of his car as he stepped out, coughing and stomping on the roach to make sure it was out. "Fuck, that was some gas." He was grinning ear to ear, seeing how obvious he was being. [i]I'm high as fuck yoo.[/i] He made his way into the store, gathering some stares from people; most likely because of his bloodshot eyes, and the fact that he reeked of bud. Reaching into his pocket, he grasped a crumpled up dollar bill before making his way over to the counter. "Ayy.. man.. you got uhh....... uhh.................. hhh.." he paused, the marijuana clearly having an effect on his cognitive abilities. "Hmm.... Island Madness, one pack.. actually, fuck that. Two packs man."

The cashier looked at him with a frown before going over to the rellos, and grabbing two packs of the flavor the stoned man requested. Floyd had already went into his wallet to get a five dollar, paying for his tobacco product and making his way out of the store.

As Devon backed out of his spot at the gas pump, another car sped into the station. Slamming the breaks, the car swerved around his with a shouted "Stupid ass motherfucker!" Affronted, he parked his car in front of the store, next to the one that nearly slammed into him. With his windows rolled down, Devon could see the smoke in the car through the windows. He could also smell the stench of weed, a pungent stench he couldn't properly identify. Scrunching up his nose, he watched as the driver rolled down all of the windows and the smoke pour out. It smelled like skunk. The owner of the car stomped on something he couldn't see and blearily made his way into the store. With a raised eyebrow, Devon followed him in as well.

Slipping through the doors, nobody paid attention to him. The eyes were only on the obviously stoned man. Grabbing a bottle of soda, Devon had to wait behind him in line. The man reeked of bud and went so far as to buy two packs of Island Madness. He had to wait impatiently for the cashier to ring him up before he could catch up to the man who was already out of the store. He was already looking for someone who would sell him marijuana. Who could have been better than a stranger at a gas station?

Running around him, Devon stepped in his way. "I was considering buying cannabis."

Floyd was enjoying the California weather, he was glad to got accepted to college in his dream state. He'd once again got caught up in his own mind as he walked outside and was just stuck staring into the sky. "Damn.." He was just about to make his way into his car when someone blocked his path, talking about, "Man what.. You mean weed? Bruh, did you really just say cannabis? Bruh, this ain't science class." He just busted out laughing. He did sometimes refer to marijuana as reefer or cannabis in a joking tone, but never as serious as the guy who'd just approached him.

"But if you're looking to score some high quality, you've come to the right place. Hop in the whip man." He took out his keys, unlocking his car and taking a seat in the vehicle, which still reeked of fresh smoke. Waiting for the other guy to get in, he reached into his glove compartment to retrieve a baggie with a Superman symbol on it. Inside the bag was a gram of marijuana with some blueish orange hairs. "This right here is some motherfucking DANK! Sour Diesel, same shit they got in the stores man! If Kim Kardashian fucked Beyonce and they had a daughter and that daughter was made of weed, it would be this shit, and since I almost ran into you... I'll let it go for ten dollars. What do you say and if you or ya homies need some weed, hit my line XXX-XXX-XXXX," he said, giving this guy his number.

Devon followed the guy to his car with an awkward grimace on his face. Was the appropriate way to refer to cannabis as weed or marijuana? It seemed as if buying it from a stranger was just as good of an idea as he thought it would be; he was already learning new things. The man unlocked his car and was already reaching into the glove compartment as Devon stepped inside of it. A bag with the Superman symbol covered it and inside was orange and blue marijuana. It had a surprising hair like quality to it. Devon stared, wide-eyed, as the man compared the bag of weed to the fictitious daughter of two famous celebrities. Or perhaps he was saying the fictitious daughter was the weed? It was all very confusing, but rather convincing of its quality. Ten dollars didn't seem to be too much for it.

Accepting the man's number and taking out a crisp ten dollar bill, Devon traded the bag for the money. "Fantastic," he said. "I'll be sure to enjoy the fictitious daughter of Beyonce and Kim Kardashian." Stepping out of the man's car, he waved to him with a grin. Unlocking his own car, Devon sped away from the gas station to his dorm room with a bag of weed on his lap. Thursday nights were made for attempting to get high, weren't they?

---

Devon lay on the ground, a bowl in his hand and faint wisps of smoke drifting lazily above his head. He laughed, it looked like feathers and ink. Grinning up at the curling smoke, he slowly sat up and ran his hand through his rumpled hair. Marijuana was kind of fun, like a square with the edges rounded off. If the square was sobriety, weed would definitely be nice little edges. Alcohol would probably be fuzzy static and the internet made ecstasy sound like scribbled lines than a square. His stomach rumbled.

The television of his dorm room was on. Did he turn it on? The sound of the bland anchorwoman's voice irritated him; he couldn't find the remote. Maybe his high self stashed it somewhere to piss him off. She was muttering on and on about some explosion or other. Very surprising, it was even being reported live. He ignored her to grab something to eat. In the end, he had to choose between a rice ball and pop tarts. Both were eaten as he watched the blonde woman report what was happening.

Three cars had exploded and the fire had spread to two other cars. Oh, Devon knew that street... It was just in that parking lot. The police and the ambulances had just arrived arrived yet, news helicopter hovered over the chaos. The pop tarts were delicious. The camera panned in on the people running about. A few girls choking on the smoke billowing out, guys illuminated by the glow of the fires. He was pretty sure he saw the guy from the gas station. [i]Damn, small world.[/i] He chuckled.

Didn't Devon get his number? Maybe he'd call him up later. Ask him about what happened, buddy up with his dealer. Heh, he officially had a dealer now. The rice ball was disgusting and his eyes were fixated on the smell of the weed. Like skunk and more than a little disgusting. Smoke lingered around his head.