Sleep with heroin, HA! Right! Passed out then spirals reds and yellows; skulls laughing, flowers gasping eating words; mashed potato rash itching spiders, sirens, moaning, screaming, white flash then gone pulled, sucked, vacuumed, then reversed swirled blackblackblack like death so long then ACK! The burningburning LIGHT? and awake, in smog, on a street, smashed, shagged, and fagged
"So they call you Pills because you deal drugs, cute." The ragged fellow laughed at his own joke, tried to stand up, and fell on his ass. Pills opened his eyes, peeved at the whisky-smelling man, blinded by the sun, and seething from the wrong done to him; his voice came out level and clam.
"They call me Pills, you drunken ass, because my life was shaped by pills. My mother was slipped a pill in her drink so that my father could rape her. I was a tortuous birth and my mom got hooked on the painkillers. Ma was pill-popper single mother till I was eight when she killed herself by overdosing." Now Pills was bellowing, "SO YOU KNOW WHAT THEY GAVE ME FOR MY FUCKING DEPRESSION, DRUNK?!"
The wide crimson face grinned languidly and said all lethargic, yet gentlemanly "pills?" and then guffawed; his sweaty jowls jiggling. Pills regained his composure and sneer.
"Yes, they gave me pills; and I couldn't bare to take them, so I got a bright idea?" Pills cracked his neck, to the left, to the right, all Zen-like, then took a deep breath, in through the nose, out in a huh-sigh-huh "I started to sell them to my classmates. After a while I found ways of getting more to sell, and all I was hearing was 'pills, pills, pills', so the name stuck." Pills casually slid his hand inside his left pocket, "By now I've diversified to fit all your needs, so if papa needs a little nip now and then I got some spirits to lift you up?" he fumbled inside his pocket and brought out a small white card, "Name's Pills?" chuckle "wait you allready know that?"
Pills demeanor chilled to stone seriousness as the booze scented man rose gracefully, standing well over six foot tall and holding his massive frame with ease. Pills eyes dilated as he shrieked, "WAIT! How do you know my FUCKING NAME!?"
"?And why did you assume I was a drunk?" the cool mellifluous voice flowed like honey out of the wide cruel mouth. The large form easily skipped from left to right like a kick boxer, his supreme weight visibly shifting from one foot to the other. Pills rolled in peals of laughter, his body in spasms as he tried to form words.
"Heheheheh, nice trick chubs" He somersaulted backwards and popped up to his feet, "You should've just taken me while I was asleep, you cocky bastard."
Chapter 3: FUCK!
A red furious tangle of jabs, kicks, etc. missing every chance, a dog after a fly, reverberating off walls mocking "C'mon Gin-man" "Fake drunk, real punk" ceasing, frozen, panting, Pills laughing scornfully, 6' 5" and angry kamikaze lunge, sidestep, spin-kick, nighty-night big man
Pills was searching through the unconscious man's wallet. He found pictures of a happy family, beautiful wife, gold cards, and joyous things. As he began to take the $150 a note fell from the wallet and onto the ground. He picked it up, quickly opening its intricate folds, a mesmerizing intricacy in the work, a clean precision to it all. Soon the message was revealed: "Any man can be bought, Pills. This man had a good, honest life, a wonderful family, and a steady job. Look at what he did for us. Name your price dealer, play our game."
Shivering, Pills looked up at the blue sky as it turned to piss yellow. "What was in that syringe?? I told him everything." As the movement of the clouds, the sound of the street, the rustling of the wind, and the city itself rose to a roar he put his hand over his inner left breast pocket and felt the warmth inside. Trembling hands slowly seeping towards the flame like a hot pad therapy, so close?
"Mister! Mister! Are you all right?" the tiny creature, no, angel, shook Pills softly. Pills looked down at the child with a face surrounded in light.
"There are no good or bad drugs son, just good or bad trips, the drugs play upon what's already in the mind, the pure aren't adversely affected, but then the pure never turn to drugs, because drugs for the Me's and Paul's; see, we need the fix, the fix that fixes and the fix that fucks, as God giveth and taketh and cureth and curseth and fucketh as so is the pill, the syringe, and the pipe and the Heathen and godless we must turn to thee Oh Mighty Drug because the drug of religion seems so silly, but when drugged by concrete drugs such silly things as joy seem sane, if for but a moment, see? See?" Pills was alone in an alley, face towards the shattered sky, wet, wet "Must be rain, tee-he Ha! The motherfuckers give a good hit, and truth serum too, HA! I told the rat bastard my life story, he knows, he knows, I'm screwed, I'm screwed, tee-he!" Belly laughing, ranting, raving, until it all went black, whether day or night there was no telling.