[right][sub][color=lightgray][@smarty0114] & [@Hey Im Jordan]
TIMESTAMP: Between 7 AM & 7:30 AM 
The local Quick Quack -> BHHS Parking Lot
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[indent] It was a Friday. [i]Everyone[/i] knew what that meant. It was the day! The day was today, and today was the day. A day of a time honored tradition, spanning back to the very Friday Nicky Snyder had decided to anoint Dylan Hearst his one and only passenger princess. There was something special about their bond - they weren’t quite dating, but their bromance certainly transcended the regular friendships their peers had. For their whole lives, they had been homies, besties bound by the eternal flame of the never ending grind to ascend the ladder.

It sounded dramatic, but it was how Nicky would have said it if anyone ever asked him, not that they ever did. Nicky and Dylan may have been lightyears apart in skill, but that didn’t change the fact they were two peas in a pod. The most dynamic duo in the history of dynamic duos - it was a common joke in their own friend group that everyone needed a girl who looked at them like Dylan looked at Nicky.

They were best friends! That was why Nicky didn’t care that Dylan didn’t drive. It wasn’t that big of a deal to be someone’s personal Uber driver when they had basically dedicated their life to being your personal hype man. For the rest of their lives, probably, Nicholas Snyder would be dutifully transporting Dylan from place to place, and he was completely and honestly okay with that.

The car rolled to a stop as he pulled into the carwash, he put the car in neutral and killed the engine. Nicky disengaged his seatbelt and twisted his body in his chair as he spoke. [color=3adc56]“Time to play one of my - sorry, [i]our[/i] favorite games. That’s right!”[/color] He sat back up, holding his treasured position. The one and only [url=https://i.imgur.com/3dqaatf.png]ceramic bong[/url] they were fortunate to have. With a bowl already packed, it was somewhat questionable where he’d been storing it, but it wasn’t like Dylan was about to ask. [color=3adc56]“Are you ready for the [i]real[/i] Friday night lights? Testify, my brother, because it is time to play: Let’s See How High We Get From Hotboxing the Car in the Car Wash.”[/color] A lengthy title, but it was still a working one.

As the sudsy water began to crash on the windshield
 while they rolled through the car wash, Nicky held the bong out to Dylan. [color=3adc56]“You can take the first one! You got a lighter, right?”[/color]

[color=eab147]“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be me,”[/color] Dylan said, channeling all the ancient wisdom of the teenage stoners who had come before him. Sitting there, in black and red sunglasses that read “Seniors!” on either arm, and a wrinkled class shirt he’d almost certainly pulled out of his hamper, Dylan Hearst was the picture of chill. He didn’t think there’d ever been anyone more chill than him, except for maybe Nicky, and that was close. The chillness he exuded made it all the more startling when he bounced into action, fishing a lighter from his back pocket so fast, you’d have thought he lost his vape. 

Two flicks and one drag later, and Dylan was blowing smoke up and smiling as it ricocheted off of the ceiling. He was a simple boy; all he really needed was this. He passed the bong and his lighter (wrapped with a picture of the happiest golden retriever to roam the earth) to Nicky, and cupped his hands around his mouth. [color=eab147]“Good stoners of the world, the soap is falling, the bowl is packed, and the absolutely stunning Dylan Hearst, has started us off with a perfect rip,”[/color] Dylan crowed, morphing his voice into his best imitation of an overzealous announcer. He’d never really picked up on the difference between an “indoor” and “outdoor” voice.

How many motherfuckers could say that the universe had given them their very own Samantha Irvin? Nicky Snyder never really realized how lucky he was, but he put a hand on Dylan’s shoulder and nodded enthusiastically, [color=3adc56]“bro. You should do voice overs for movie trailers. You know, like… In a [i]world[/i] where high school never ends.”[/color] He said in a voice that he [i]tried[/i] to sound like an old school movie trailer as he took the bong and lighter from Dylan. It was only a few seconds before a smoke cloud emanated from Nicky. In the midst of a coughing fit he did his best. [color=3adc56]“Naomi Davis and her galavanting band of sycophants do their very best to ruin our every living moment. Where OliCritz is too cool to ride to school with his buddies,”[/color] the last of the smoke left his mouth as he finished his hit.

[color=3adc56]“Dylan Hearst and Nicky Snyder continue their unending quest to find the Raphael and Donatello they’ve been searching for their whole lives.”[/color] He started to cough, hacking out his final words as he looked up at the ceiling. [color=3adc56]“Faze up.”[/color] As he spoke, he realized that he was getting [i]baked[/i].

[color=3adc56]“Damn. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this was a bad idea.”[/color] He mused, passing Scooby-Doobie back over to Dylan. It was too late to back down now!

[color=eab147]“No such thing as a bad idea, just bad execution,”[/color] Dylan said. He took another hit, and passed it back as the plain, white bubbles gave way to technicolor foam. This was his favorite part. [color=eab147]“Voice actor… you think you gotta go to school for that? Probably not if you’re really good at it. I don’t think Troy Baker went to school, and he’s in like, everything. I’m pretty good, I probably wouldn’t need the school,”[/color] Dylan said, with all the unearned confidence of a rich, white, teenager. 

For better or worse, Dylan had mastered the beast that was ego a long time ago, mostly out of necessity. Nicky had been better than him at pretty much everything that anyone cared about for basically his entire life. He had better grades than him, better aim, he even walked before Dylan did. He learned pretty quickly that their continued friendship was probably proof enough that he was good at [i]something[/i], and he felt like that ‘something’ was keeping his boy at his best. It was Dylan’s philosophy that a hype man who didn’t believe in himself, couldn’t believe in anybody. So, for better or worse, he believed.

[color=eab847]“Or, maybe, I’ll graffitti my way up the coast. That definitely doesn’t need school, and I could live in a cool van.”[/color]

As he listened, Nicky dumped the ash out of the bowl and carefully disposed of it on the floorboard of his car (he’d vacuum it later if he remembered). [color=3adc56]“Live in a van? That sounds kinda wild, duder. I don’t know if I could handle it. I’d be all cramped when I try to aim… Can you imagine playing Valorant in a van? I’d prolly have to like… play Fortnite on my Switch just to be comfortable. And bro, that’s like fuckin’ Dante’s 12th circle of hell.”[/color] Nicky, of course, knew perfectly well that there were only nine circles of hell in [i]Inferno[/i], but his reasoning was that playing Fortnite on a Nintendo Switch would suck so much sweaty swamp ass that it would skip the 10th and 11th circles to take him straight to the 12th circle of suckage. He couldn’t help himself, he physically shuddered at the thought.

It was late, but Nicky finally did respond to Dylan’s question about if schooling was needed for voice acting. [color=3adc56]“Nah, no way you need to go school to voice-act. You just gotta talk funny, and you’re hilarious bro.”[/color] Nicky fished around in the center console as the car approached the end of the line. He eventually produced what he was looking for: his grinder. He opened it up and dumped what was left of the deliciously purply purple Cali Kush into his palm, before packing it into the bowl of the bong. [color=3adc56]“Here, bro. For the funniest dude I’ve even and my most righteous and best friend: the final bowl of Lemon Cherry Gelato. Cowabunga, brother.”[/color]

Once again, he held the bong out to Dylan, as the carwash ended and he got ready to start the car back up.

[color=eab147]“I am pretty funny, aren’t I?”[/color] Dylan snapped the bowl as the blow-dryers whirred to life, and watched a housewife shake her head in abject horror at their delinquency. He laughed. He did not want to acknowledge that these days would be behind him sooner rather than later, so he reveled in this hotbox and the 90210 socialite they’d just offended. [color=eab147]“Cowabunga, my dude.”[/color]

[hr]

After fifteen minutes and a lively discussion about the finer points of the [i]Power Rangers[/i], the dynamic duo pulled into Nicky’s freshly painted, senior parking spot, probably too high for school, but definitely too high to care. [color=eab147]“Do I smell like weed? I don’t think I do.”[/color] Dylan shrugged, nonchalant. He did smell like weed, and anyone who hadn’t been sitting right next to him would’ve been able to tell him that. [color=eab147]“Eh, who cares, Phoenix won’t do anything, he’s a big softie.”[/color] He smoothly stepped out of Nicky’s car, and shouted out to his fellow peers, [color=eab147][b]“Attention, attention, you all can rest easy, the most important people in school have arrived, safe and sound. I know you guys were all really worried.”[/b][/color] His trumpeting did not garner much attention from anyone other than a handful of underclassmen. Damn. He really needed to get his megaphone back from the principal’s office. People always cared more when you had a megaphone.

One day, Nicky hoped he’d get to hear Dylan herald his arrival in front of thousands of screaming fans who were ready to see him raise the trophy above his head for the first time… But that day sadly wasn’t today. Today, he was yelling into the aether at people who didn’t really care about either of them. Nicky jumped out of the car and looked over at Dylan. [color=3adc56]“Here, bro.”[/color] Nicky reached in his pocket and pulled out a bottle of eye drops, which he used in each eye before tossing it over to Dylan.

[color=3adc56]“We don’t wanna show up to class like that meme with Sonic where it’s like ‘do I look high?’ Because man, do we look high or what? Hold on, I’ll show you.”[/color] He pulled out his phone and tapped away for a few seconds before he shoved his phone in Dylan’s face. [color=3adc56]“Like [url=https://i.imgur.com/k6wzren.png]this[/url].”[/color]

Dylan popped his sunglasses up and looked at his own image staring back at him with two bloodshot eyes. He smiled and waved to the mini-Dylan, before rolling his head back and dropping a few saline drops into his eyes. He looked back down at Nicky’s phone, blinked a few times, and watched the redness begin to fade. [color=eab147]“Dope.”[/color] He slung his arm around Nicky’s shoulder and began marching them towards their eight-hour sentence. [color=eab147]“Tell me Nicholas, who do we know that could get in and out of a principal’s office unscathed?”[/color][/indent]