At the McFist headquarters, a group of robo-apes with large crates in their hands entered the main room, setting the boxes in piles in front of McFist.
"Viceroy!" McFist called. "You delivery bots arrived." Viceroy appeared from his lab, walking towards one of the crates, opening it and taking a handful of something before walking back to his lab. McFist watched Viceroy with a quirked brow of confusion, wondering what just happened before he walked towards the open crate to discover what got Viceroy so excited. Inside the crates was primo marijuana, real sticky stuff with a strong odor.
Viceroy stayed in his lab, currently inhaling a bag full of smoke from his vaporizer. On his desk were seeds from the handful he took from his crate. He exhaled, coughing harshly from the smoke in his lungs. He giggled after his coughing fit was over. Nicholas sat in front of him the two were on the floor with comfortable pillows under them.
"The joys of being a scientist." He said to Nicholas. "You get to make highly advanced smoking materials." Indeed, Viceroy made his vaporizer. He made sure that it'd get people fucked up, no matter if it was mids or dro. The door then opened, revealing an angry McFist.
"Viceroy!" He said. "What are you doing?" Viceroy giggled and almost rolled his eyes, thinking that McFist's temper was as comical as a slapstick cartoon.
"What does it look like? I'm smoking weed with Nicholas." He started to laugh, accidentally convincing McFist that the scientist had lost his mind, like the pot smokers from Reefer Madness.
"Oh dear god, it's happening!" McFist said, looking worried. Viceroy looked at him.
"What's happening?"
"Haven't you seen Reefer Madness!? First they giggle, then they lose perception of space and time, and then they go out killing people!" Viceroy giggled. He had seen the movie as well. McFist was worried that Viceroy would grow the balls to give him a slow death.
"That's some bull created by the paper and the tobacco companies so one of the greatest things in the world would be illegal and they would make a profit off of their crap. I've seen the movie and I find it ridiculous. It's like 'Hey, I smoked some weed, now I feel like killing my boss.'" Nicholas and Viceroy giggled.
"Did you get it from kids? You never know what they put in it. It could have some meth and then you'd run around naked on the streets and wake up in a chicken coup."
"That's Friday! And I didn't get it from the streets I got it from a dispensary on the other side of town. Marijuana is legal here." As Viceroy said that, he prepared the vaporizer again before starting it, filling the bag with smoke before he took it off and put it over Nicholas. Nicholas absorbed the smoke until the bag wasn't saturated and Viceroy pulled it off and watched the blob relax and change colours slowly. Viceroy giggled as he changed from red to orange to every other colour on the spectrum in a slow rate. "This is awesome." McFist rolled his eyes before noticing the seeds on the desk.
"What're those?" McFist pointed to the seeds to show Viceroy what "those" meant.
"Those are my seeds." Viceroy said to him. "I'm going to be growing different types of marijuana and mix them into hybrids here so I won't have delivery bots retrieve them from dispensaries and I'd get extra high for free." And with Viceroy's plant food, they'll grow and be ready to harvest in under an hour. Bad news was that the gears in McFist's head were turning.
"May I have half of what you grow?" McFist asked. Viceroy looked at him, clear to his boss's intentions.
"You'll get 10 percent of what I grow and with two conditions. You must clip the buds off before you can do whatever you want with them and I get 40 percent of the profits." McFist frowned. "10 percent is still a lot. It's clear that you're going to sell them and 50 percent of what I'll be growing is too much. Trust me. But I will give you some more if you run out" McFist had no choice but to trust him.
"Alright." Viceroy smiled at his boss.
"Pleasure doing business with you."
It didn't take long before the word was out about McFist's new product. McFist Medical Marijuana. People who sold it outside of dispensaries, amongst the black market, named it, "The Fist" since it was created by the man with the same name and it gives a high so great it's like a punch in the face into altered states of consciousness. McFist was happy. He got rich quickly with the pot he distributed at the dispensaries in town.
Two McFist fans also heard about the new product. Randy and Howard were curious when they heard about the marijuana from Heidi's gossip site and wispy rumours that spread like wildfire. Randy Cunningham and Howard Weinerman, the two McFist fans, prepared for this. The internet gave some interesting facts and Randy pooled his money for some. Thankfully, the market was in disequilibrium where demand surpassed supply, so they got it at a very cheap price. Howard looked at the many homemade smoking materials that showed how to make them and their effectiveness. Randy's mother was gone for the day to celebrate a friend's birthday so this was the perfect opportunity.
Randy and Howard were in Randy's room with the bag of pot, setting it down under his pillow before they went out looking for materials to make something great. After searching in the kitchen, living room, and other rooms, they finally searched Ms. Cunningham's room. They found a bronze hookah in a drawer in her nightstand.
"What the juice?" Howard asked as they stared at the marvel. "Why does your mother have a hookah?" Randy couldn't believe it, but he remembered the stories his mother told him.
"My mother told me that my dad was a drug dealer." Howard looked at Randy. "He left us when he knew that my mother was pregnant but before she did, she took a memento from him." Howard looked at the hookah. "Didn't think she meant this."
"I'm sorry." Howard said, looking at Randy with the feeling like he's invaded something he shouldn't have with his friend. Randy looked at Howard and smiled, telling him that everything was fine.
"Don't be. Wasn't your fault I didn't get to know my dad."
"So…?"
"Yeah, we're smoking out of it." The two took the hookah out of the room and into Randy's room. He reached into his jacket pocket and took out a lighter with the ninja logo on it.
"Why do you have a lighter?" Howard asked. Randy shrugged.
"It has my logo on it." Howard thought it was good enough of a reason before Randy filled the bowl on the top with some of the drug. "So who goes first?" Randy asked as he held the hose in his hand.
"You should since you bought it." Either he was sincere or afraid, no one could tell as Randy positioned the lighter above the bowl and the hose in his mouth. With a click, the lighter turned on. Randy inhaled quickly so the flame would be pulled downward, transforming the drug's colour into a glowing orange. He felt overwhelmed as he pulled back coughing all the smoke that only took up half of his lungs. When he was finished he looked at the hookah and then Howard.
"Holy shit." He said quietly.
"Are you okay?" Howard sounded worried.
"I'm fine. It's your turn." Howard was skeptical but nonetheless did it anyway. He took Cunningham's lighter and took his hit, having the same coughing hit as Randy.
"Whoa." He said.
They continued to smoke until they started to feel sick. They took a break and just chilled in Randy's room with relaxed smiles and red eyes. Everything was odd to them, distorted in other words. Everything looked the same, but the boys processed something else entirely.
"Does everything seem weird to you?" Howard asked in a relaxed voice giggling.
"Like what?" Randy asked, giggling as well.
"It's like… I don't know how to describe it but it's like there's a strobe light in your eyes and you see thing, but you can't see them as well." Randy nodded. He then realized something.
"Dude…"
"What?"
"I think I'm high as fuck." Randy whispered. They started to laugh, almost busting a gut as they did so.
"When did you notice?"
"Just now!" They laughed louder. They stopped after a while. "Why were we laughing again?" Randy asked.
"Because you just realized you were high as fuck." Randy nodded.
"Oh yeah… Dude, I'm hungry."
"Do you still have some money left? We could go somewhere." Randy nodded again at Howard.
"Yes we can. But first, I wanna smoke the rest of this bowl and get higher." Howard nodded. He also wanted to get higher and the two didn't feel as sick as they did earlier. "Hey listen to this." Randy was on his phone, searching up some marijuana facts out of curiosity. "Did you know that after you inhale some marijuana, you should inhale with real air and hold your breath for about 10 seconds so it can be absorbed better and you'll get higher?" Howard nodded.
"Interesting. I did not know that."
"I wanna try it." Randy searched around his person for the lighter. "Where's my lighter?" He asked before Howard stretched his hand, giving Randy the lighter. "Thank you, Howard." Howard nodded.
"My pleasure." Randy started to inhale the drug and then inhaled some air after so it could be absorbed. Howard started counting.
"One… Two… Three… Four…" When Howard made it to seven, Randy couldn't take it anymore. He started having another coughing fit, coughing out thick streams of smoke that mixed with the thin clouds in the air of their room. "How do you feel?" Howard needed to know if that worked.
"I feel higher." The two giggled before Howard did the same. He only made it to six before he started coughing. It didn't take long for the bowl to finally finish as they emptied it, placing it back in the same spot it was and hiding the weed under his pillow before the two went out walking to somewhere.
It was a gorgeous day outside. Everything just seemed clearer and more peaceful as they focused on the beautiful coloured houses and the trees that surrounded them.
"What time is it?" Howard asked, snapping Randy out of his trance. Randy pulled his phone out of his pocket, checking the time.
"It's only 10." In the morning. Howard nodded as the two continued. A McDonalds came into view. "Dude, let's go there!" Randy pointed to the McDonalds' large "M" that was a few blocks away.
"That's a good idea!" Howard said ecstatically as the two walked faster to the fast-food restaurant.
"Remember: We have to be cool about this." Randy said. "We cannot appear high as fuck even though we're high as fuck." They giggled.
"Don't worry. We got this." Howard said with confidence as they entered the doors. They were fortunate to see the place was almost deserted as they walked to the line, ordering their foods. The man behind the counter took their orders and looked at them with a grin. It made the two nervous before he audibly sniffed the air.
"The Fist, huh?" He asked them. The two nodded slowly. "Is this your first time?" The two nodded again. "Ever?" Another nod. "What did you smoke out of? Last question, I promise." The man whispered.
"A hookah." Howard replied. The man giggled.
"Good luck. Try not to trip out too much." First timers high on really great weed smoked from a powerful smoking material tend to trip out a lot. The two got their meal and sat at a booth at an area no one could see them. As they dug into their food and drink, they texted each other so no one could hear them.
"I just got an idea: McWeed. A McDonalds that sold pot." Randy texted. Howard looked at the phone and started laughing hard.
"FUCKING BRILLIANT!" He texted back. "WE CAN HAVE OUR POT AND FOOD HERE! I'M GONNA MAKE THAT HAPPEN WHEN WE GROW UP!" Randy laughed too.
"And I will help you." The man behind the counter heard the laughter and couldn't help but grin.
"High as fuck." He said to himself. He started to consider asking them if they want to go out back and smoke a bowl when he's on break but they finished their meal quickly before he got the chance.
They two walked to Randy's house. It was a pretty good day from them. As they talked and laughed about the most ridiculous and brilliant things they cannot remember, they entered the home and crashed on the couch, tired before the two felt sleep take over them. Howard was hugging Randy, but he didn't mind. He thought it was only for a little while though.
I like to thank a friend of mine who thought of McWeed. And Novanto because we were writing something and the crates with the pot were a minor roll.