Buck tramples through the garden

It was past midnight and Buck was fucking wasted. He stumbled through his neighbors' back yards, trying desperately to get back to his dad's house without getting caught. The last thing he needed was to run into a neighbor, or worse, a cop

Buck kept stumbling into yard equipment and stepping on children's toys. He could barely stay standing. This was the last time he did fifteen tequila shots in a row. He swore on his mother's grave! (His mother was alive and living in Oklahoma.)

In the distance, Buck suddenly saw something strange. It looked like a big patch of glowing lights. In his drunken stupor, the drunk jock forgot his original goal of getting home and made a beeline towards the lights.

"So pretty!"

Buck burst into a garden full of big crimson flowers that glowed faintly in the dark. As he did so, he trampled several of the large blossoms.

"What the fuck are these flowers?" Buck grunted. "They smell really fuckin' good!"

Buck grabbed one of the flowers and ripped it from its stalk before taking a big whiff. A puff of sticky pollen jetted into his face.

"Fuck!" Buck roared!

The jock tossed the flower and began to throw a tantrum, kicking and beating flowers into pulp. More pollen sprayed up, but Buck failed to notice. He was fucking pissed. How dare a flower spit on him? Within a few minutes, Buck had trampled nearly every flower in the garden, leaving a littered mess of dying foliage.

Suddenly, a sharp twang broke Buck out of his rage.

"Shit! My alarm!"

Now Anthony had been correct about Buck. The jock asshole was in fact on steroids - lots and lots of steroids. Buck's current routine was somewhat unconventional and required multiple shots a day, including one in the early morning.

Buck rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a hypodermic needle. He tried to inject himself, but in his drunken state slipped and dropped the needle to the ground. Panicking, the meathead stomped around, looking for his juice only feel a crunch beneath his feet. Looking down, buck saw the contents of the needle leaking into the soil at his feet.

"God-fucking-damnit!" Buck howled. "That shit is fucking expensive!"

God only knows what extensive property damage Buck might have caused in his drunken roid-rage. However, at that moment, the flower pollen began to take effect.

Buck looked down and noticed he was hard as a rock.

"Shit? Where did you come from?"

Buck reached down and grasped his boner, letting out a deep, guttural moan as he did so.

"Shit, I'm horny! Goddamn!"

Before he knew, Buck had his jeans down and around his ankles and was stroking himself off like a madman. A minute later, several ropes of the hulking jock's seed rained down on the garden. Finally relieved, Buck pulled up his pants and stumbled off.

As the jock went, the garden began to repair itself. It was in pain and it was angry. It drank in the man's seed and the strange chemicals he spilled on it and grew angrier still. Something about these new substances was different. The red liquid from earlier had been sweet and soft, filled with love. The white fluid and the burning chemicals in the needle were hard and potent. They conveyed strength and domination. The more the garden feasted on these chemicals, the more it came to like them. It was angry, but it was also hungry. There were other patches of dirt to expand to. Other organisms to taste and change. Vines wrapped around the shattered needle, allowing the garden to internalize its structure. It was a perfect delivery system, something it could remember for later.

The red flowers wilted into heaps of dead biomass. The nutrients entered the soil where they were broken down and repurposed for something new. Something potent and destructive and deeply masculine.