Sasori couldn't imagine telling his younger self that he would be friends with his cousin Kankuroof all people when he was 18, but there he was, sitting with the guy, smoking some really dank weed and eating Taco Bell. The doors in the basement, including the one to outside, were closed, creating a hot box, but despite the smoky atmosphere he could still see Kankuro's face sitting across from him quite clearly.
"This is pretty dope stuff, real chronic," Sasori remarked. "Better than that that bitch weed you got last time."
"Dude, huh?" Kankuro responded. Probably too high to function, Sasori thought, before bursting out into laughter. Kankered. Kankuro. Oh god this was too hilarious. "What is it man?" the other asked, laughing a little as well. Laughter was too contagious with them, at least while high anyway.
"It's just like, you're so kankered man. Like your name. Kanker-o. Kankuro," Sasori answered in between giggles. Kankuro laughed, and Sasori began laughing again, and they went on laughing for several minutes before calming down. Sasori had already forgotten about complaining about that awful shit from a few days ago.
"So when's grandma gonna be home?" Kankuro asked, picking up a soft taco from the Taco Bell bag on the table with his free hand. Apparently he wasn't as kankered as Sasori thought he was, which made him giggle yet again. Sasori checked the clock on the wall. They had plenty of time to air out the basement so she wouldn't notice.
"She shouldn't be home for a few hou-" he was suddenly cut off by the sound of a car engine pulling up in the driveway. Kankuro and Sasori dropped their joints and food looked at each other, eyes filled with panic.
"Shit," they said in unison.