[b]At the Winnebago, in the woods, Upstate[/b]: 

“I’m telling you dude, there’s a guy moving in on the University out East ,” an extended drag of a cigarette, a few solitary puffs in the shape of, “o’s,” and the expected response was mouthed, “so what do you want me to do about it, Felix?” Ken wasn’t the muscle of this operation, and so far as he was concerned procuring the sudo necessary to keep their little operation up and running, coupled with the eminent desertion of their resident chemist was of a much greater immediate demand on his mental faculties than some asshole trying to move in on turf that wasn’t even theirs to begin with. Caught by the statement half way through his own drag Felix attempted, poorly, to keep from spluttering as he choked, “wha--, guh, huh-huh, heh, heh…,” and, noisily preparing a wad of mucus, saliava, and tar for departure in the depths of his throat blurted, “you? Nothing. Me,” before finally releasing the contents of his sinus all about the now slowly rotting tires on the passenger side of their Winnebago, grabbing at the double barreled shotgun, Lucy, he insisted on carrying with him every time they took the truck out. 

“Put that fuckin’ thing down before you hurt yourself,” Ken groaned more frustrated than legitimately concerned or angry, the weight of this quite possibly being their last cook together growing more burdensome with each passing moment, as he dug through a side pouch in the duffle he had brought along for their weekend getaway, producing a small plastic packet containing a few neatly folded tissues. Taking one before blowing his nose in the most melodramatic of fashion within its plush folds, Felix balled the thing up before catching a glare from Ken in his direction and stopping flat in his tracks. “Oh, right, you fucking puss,” was the only reply Ken’s glance seemed like to receive, however, before Felix moved to place the tissue in the garbage can where it belonged. “It’s for your safe--‘ ‘fuck, Ken, I’ve heard it a hundred times, don’t leave DNA, that includes motherfuckin’ tissues, listen to me, I went to college,” the absurdly pointless mock yipping gesticulations made with his fingers, however, served only to cause Felix to burn himself on his lit cherry, dropping the butt with an audible yelp in his instinctive haste to flee from the heat. 

Before Lucy could hit the ground Ken moved to catch her with a knee, then moving to place a hand on the weapon opened her up and dumped the shells onto his lap, handing Felix’s prized possession back to him empty. Of course he had other shells, but it was done more for the satisfaction of seeing the look on the guy’s face than in an effort to effectively disarm him. Retrieving his cigarette both Felix and Ken each took another drag in silence. “Hear me out here, Felix. We need sudo,’ ‘no shit Sherlock,’ ‘shut the fuck up dude. We need sudo, right?” the silent, derisive response he received did nothing to stem Ken’s building excitement towards his newfound scheme. “So this whole time I’ve been thinking to myself, ‘where do I get sudo? It’s not as if the big city has any ma’ and pa’s hick drug stores, and even if they did every street has ten cameras pointed right at it,’ right?’ ‘I swear to God, if you say let’s steal a barrel of methylene,” the creaking of the Winnebago door, and Damien’s sudden appearance through it’s doors had gone unnoticed in the commotion, but managed to stymie Ken’s speech for but a moment regardless.

 “Shut up Andrew. We can’t do another drug store heist up here, almost got clipped the last time ‘round, security in the city’s too extensive and I’m not taking a chance running it up from out of state. Instead, we let the sudo come to us,”. This revelation was met with exchanged glances, mutual in their confusion and dubious outlook. “Listen, the sudo comes from somewhere, right?’ ‘well, obviously,’ ‘I said listen the fuck up Damien. It comes on a truck from out of state, down South, up North, out West, doesn’t matter. When it gets here it goes to a distribution center out of town, and gets shipped in smaller batches via commercial van to Walgreens and shit in the city,” the grin on the young man’s face was swelling so much it seemed he might burst, clearly taking an inordinate degree of pleasure in the suspense he was forcing on his colleagues, though neither of them spoke. “So, we wait until the vans are loaded, watch where they go. Walgreens only stocks so many things, every van that goes out to them’s gonna have a case of Allegra-D, maybe some legit sudo,’ ‘so let me get this straight, Ken; you want to steal a high security van on the street in the middle of the day? It’s GPS monitored you twit!” Damien’s disapproval, however, only increased Ken’s giddiness. 

“Sure, it is. That’s why we’re never going to deviate from it’s route,” now open mouthed, and in utter disbelief, both Felix and Damien fell absolutely silent. “I’m not saying we’re breaking into the distribution center, or stealing the van. Just a little run of the mill vandalism. See, those van’s are mighty heavy, and have massive tires, too big for a normal guy to put on without tools. We look up local prescription drug distribution centers on Google, watch where the vans go for a few days, then put a few nails on the street and wait. When they pop a tire they’ll call for a tow, and, ‘and then we hit ‘em?” Felix blurted, now wholly immersed in the prospect of some good old fashioned highway robbery. “Fuck you Felix. We watch what tow truck company picks up the van, look up their address, then we break in, pop the back and make off in five minutes or less with as much of the usual suspects as we can carry. Security’s lax, even if they have a system it won’t be on during the day, and everyone takes a piss break sometime. Best part? Company’s in the fuckin’ boonies. We just walk out, park a half mile in the woods and we’re golden. Can even close the van back up after we’re done, no one will notice a thing until it gets to the pharmacy,”.