Heads.

"Son of a bitch."

Mark had just narrowly escaped this bullshit at the bar and now he was about to head straight into the lion's den. Jen laughed. "You're gonna look so cute in your Grateful Dead shirt, sweetie!"

He glared at her. "Can you try to enjoy this a little less?"

"I'll try, but no promises."

As they pulled up to Grink's nondescript bungalow, he tried one last attempt to weasel out. "Isn't this asshole expecting you? What happens when some dude shows up on his doorstep?"

"You'll figure something out. You're a smart guy." She smirked. "For now."

Mark couldn't take any more of this. He got out of the car and approached the door.

After two knocks, Grink opened the door. He was a dumpy guy with a sallow skin and bloodshot eyes. He had a gross, matted beard and he smelled like sour beer and BO. Mark suppressed a shudder. There was no way he was letting this guy touch him, let alone fuck him.

Grink looked him over and grunted. "The fuck are you?"

"Hey man, I'm a friend of Joseph's sister. I wanna-"

"Eat my ass." Grink tried to slam the door in his face but Mark caught it and held it open.

"-I want to make you an offer."

Grink grunted again. "Get the fuck outta my doorway."

"I took the pill, man. I took the pill! But if you help me out here I can make it very, very lucrative for you."

Grink let go of the door. "If you know what that pill does why the fuck would you come here?"

Time for a gamble. "I already started changing from Joseph's sister, so I should be safe if I don't take another pill, right?"

Grink looked him over. "...yeah, right. Come on in." Mark followed him into the house.

Grink's house was disgusting. A haze of pot smoke infused the whole place and there was shit everywhere. Grink gestured to a ratty old couch. "Sit down and let's parlay, my man."

Mark groaned internally. Parlay? This dumbass was selling gray market boner pills to suburban housewives and he thought he was in the Wire. He couldn't wait to get the fuck out of there.

First things first, though. He had to get tarted up and be a "distraction".

"You wanna smoke me up first? That shit with your pill really put me on edge."

Grink looked him over again. "Yeah man. Sure." He grabbed a dirty-ass bong off of the coffee table and offered it up with a lighter.

Mark guessed that Grink himself didn't know much about how the pill worked or he'd be a lot more eager to get Mark high. Still, he was being generous with his weed- No! He chastised himself. He couldn't start having nice thoughts about this shitheel. He hadn't even smoked yet.

Mark had only tried weed a few times in high school and never really cared for it. The high was nice but it made him nauseated and he got headaches from the coughing fits. Hopefully this stuff wasn't quite as harsh. He put the bong to his lips, lit up, and sucked in smoke.

God almighty, that was the worst shit he ever tasted! He immediately broke out in a series of wet, painful coughs that went on for what felt like minutes. As he struggled to keep his coughing under control, he felt his gorge rise and gagged. For a moment he really thought he was gonna lose his lunch all over Grink's grimy beige carpet.

He looked up to see Grink leaning against the wall, doubled over with laughter. "Oh my God, dude!" Grink was wheezing. "I've never seen anyone take a hit like that. I thought you were gonna die, man!"

Mark was ready put this fat fuck's head through his blacklight poster. His lungs, eyes, and throat burned like he'd been hit with a chemical weapon. "What was in that shit?" he rasped. "Was that meth or something?" His voice broke on the word meth.

"Calm down bro, it's just kief! Jesus, I've seen guys handle getting shot better than that."

Mark's head was swimming. What the hell is kief? He shook his head, making him even dizzier. It was the dust from the bottom of the grinder, of course. Packed a punch.

He realized with horror that he suddenly had a wealth of information about all kinds of low-grade narcotics. He licked his lips. Man, a good clean joint and a PBR would wash that kief taste out good right now.

Well, it's starting. He could practically feel his mind contracting. It was nice being a genius for a little while.

He realized that Grink was staring at him. He did not like that look at all. That look was the last thing a slice of pizza ever saw.

"Hey," he stopped. His voice was high. Like, really high. Shit. "Hey, can I use your bathroom?"

Grink looked amused. He nodded to the hallway. "Sure thing. Second door on the left."

Mark stumbled woozily down the hall and locked himself in the bathroom.