Pot

In Haddonfield , surrounded by wilderness, small hills, and farms is the city of Alicante

Yahoo by nickname hated driving all the way outside the Keeseville city limits. He hated getting mud stuck in his new boots. Yahoo understood why the small farmhouse was kept so isolated in an already isolated place, to keep it a secret. No one was supposed to know that the pealing white washed rickety old wood farmhouse set in the middle of a heavily wooded spot was the biggest **** distribution around. The trees had lost their leaves and crunched under Yahoo’s flashy red Dodge truck as he pulled up to the farmhouse. The mutt of a mean dog started barking before Yahoo reached the tree line.

Yahoo knew the rules, don’t get out of his vehicle until someone from inside took care of the dog, or Yahoo would be loosing some part of his body, and heard the mutt liked nuts. While waiting for someone to brave the cold weather of the early morning he checked himself in the mirror again. At nineteen he was good looking with slick black hair. He sported a wicked scar across his deep brown forehead, the scar a compliment from a father who threw him out of the trailer. Now Yahoo was making more money in one month than his old man did in a decade. Yahoo didn’t care if the money came from selling ****, it was a living. Yahoo looked up hearing cursing from Frank The dog, hearing the cursing came running over to House, and the man at the door hit the dog on the head with a baseball bat, not enough to kill the dog but enough to hurt the animal. Frank waved Yahoo inside. Frank was an unhealthy thin white man with black hair that didn’t look like it had been washed in weeks, and had an aversion to wearing shirts. He had at least five days worth of growth to his beard making him look as unhealthy as the house. Yahoo always hated going into the farmhouse, the fear of the floor someday giving out under him kept him from staying long. “Shit you came early,” Frank said dropping onto a torn and taped couch in the living room and tossing the baseball bat aside. The walls were painted an off white color decades ago, and Yahoo guessed that was the last time they were washed too. The floor creaked and groaned with each step or movement the men made. The windows were dirty and drafty in wood frames that were dried out and cracked. There was a scared and dirty wood coffee table sitting before the couch, but it was crooked and rocked on uneven feet. To add confusion to the room there was a plasma screen TV in the corner, with DVD player, and every videogame platform on the market with a pile of games tossed to the side. Yahoo didn’t sit down on the only other piece of furniture in the room, a wooden chair, and stood waiting as House lit up a burned out joint from the coffee table and took a hit. Frank left the joint hanging in his lips while he cursed at Yahoo, “Why the fuck you have to come so fucking early?”

“It’s almost eleven in the morning,” Yahoo said with a shake of his head, “I need some new goods for the lunch crowd. That and the fact that tomorrow’s Friday, so I need to get ready for the weekend.”

“Fuck that shit,” Frank said scratching his crotch. Yahoo had heard it all before, and wanted to spend as little time as possible with House. It was now legal to arrest someone if a **** dog smells pot on them, and Yahoo wanted to get away from Frank’s joint as fast as possible. To make things go fast Yahoo dropped a wad of cash onto the coffee table. Frank picked it up and thumbed through it. “You’re fucking short,” Frank stated and then sucked deeply on his joint.

“I don’t need any heroin this time,” Yahoo stated, “no one’s buying that stuff. I still have the last batch you sold me.”

“Fuck that shit I’ve got some new shit that’ll fucking blow your fucking mind,” Frank stated with a huge grin on his face. He stood up and went into the kitchen, and opened the oven. The oven did work, and if the cops came down on them all Frank had to do was crank the gas up and the **** would no longer exist. That excluded the methamphetamine lab in the back of the house and the pot plants growing in the basement and the crack kitchen on the second floor.Frank came back into the living room with the usual plastic boxes of various ****. Like a man putting products on display at a convention frank displayed the **** that Yahoo was going to get. There were the usual packets of cocaine, crack, LSD, methadone, methamphetamines, the small plastic vials of ecstasy, rohypnol, GHB.That’s when House pulled out 10 grams of marijuana.

“This shit is fucking awesome,” Frank said with a sadistic laugh.

“What is it?” Yahoo asked skeptical.

“Some fucking asshole called this shit Cupid. I call it fucking great,” Frank said his smile widening. “You Have someone smoke it or get the smoke and they will become the fucking **** to whoever they hear. This fucking shit is great!”