Mordecai went to the drug rehabilitation center to pick up Rigby, who had a severe addiction to heroin. Mordecai walked there because he was twenty-three year old loser without a driver's license.
"Dude, how was rehab?" Mordecai asked.
"It was terrible!" Rigby exclaimed. "They had us holding hands and singing Barney songs as if we were toddlers. We had to listen to some single-mother crack-whore with five baby daddies explain how she found Jesus Christ. Ain't nobody got time for that shit!"
"Right on, dude, but at least you seem to no longer be craving the smack."
"Are you kidding me? I am jonesing like a motherfucker. They've only given me this prescription for methadone, which doesn't do shit."
"Rigby, I don't want you to use that stuff anymore."
"Fuck you, Mordecai. It's my life." Rigby ran away from Mordecai.
"Rigby . . ." Mordecai had a bad feeling about Rigby, but then he realized he had a date with Margaret. He was never going to get a chance with the whore anyway because nice guys always finish last.
Rigby's only friend was Mordecai, so he really had no place to go. Without thinking twice, he ran to Muscle Man's trailer and knocked on the door. The door opened and Muscle Man's face was revealed with loud heavy metal music playing in the background.
"Well, well, if isn't the heroin junkie!" Muscle Man said, holding a small dumbbell.
"Dude, can I borrow some money?" Rigby said. "I'm trying to get an apartment, but the landlord is asking for a 500 dollar security deposit."
"Bullshit, Rigby. Everyone knows Mordecai went to the rehab facility to pick you up."
"Dammit!" Rigby cried, throwing his hands up in the air.
"But I tell you something; if you're willing to make a porno with my mother, I'll gladly give you twice the money you're asking for."
Rigby thought about the offer. He was very desperate and needed any money he could get, but Muscle Man's mother probably was a very ugly woman if he was offering money for someone like Rigby to have sex with her. Besides, he'd be fucking the cooter that expelled Muscle Man. All the heroin in the world would not be enough for him to do this.
"I'd rather screw a dead horse," Rigby said.
Muscle Man smirked instead of getting incensed at Rigby's insult of his mother. "Enjoy withdrawal." Muscle Man laughed hysterically and slammed his door shut.
"Useless piece of shit!" He kicked the side of the trailer, which then led to him stubbing his toe and saying more profane things. He fell to the ground, thinking where to go next. He finally decided to walk around the park.
He had only been in rehab for three weeks, but it felt like an eternity to him. His constant drug intoxication had really messed with his perception of time. Walking around the park, Rigby remembered all the times he and Mordecai dropped acid. Paranormal activities were not unusual for them. Rigby's most fond memory was when he thought he was a house. He was actually just on top of the park's house, and he was hallucinating that some old wizard had turned him into one.
It was all fun, and Benson, despite always having his panties in a twist, was actually an open-minded liberal hippie. He no longer used psychedelic drugs, but he was okay with his young adult employees experimenting with them. It really reminded him of his youth.
It all started going downhill when Rigby tried heroin. Benson warned him never to try the stuff, but of course Rigby never heeded any warnings. Rigby was constantly depressed about where he was in life; he was a high school dropout, and his younger brother was living a much better life, being an attractive accountant with heaps of money. Even his best friend, Mordecai, who was also a loser, had a better life than Rigby Rigby wondered where his life went wrong. He wondered why he was inferior to everyone around him. It's not as if he was an inherently bad person or deserved this. He wanted to escape the pain, so he started using heroin.
Rigby decided to pass the hours by napping on a bench in the park. When he awoke, Benson was sitting right next to him.
"What the?" Rigby said. "How long have you been there?"
"Only for a few minutes," Benson said. "I was wondering if you were alive."
"You're not going to yell at me to stop loitering?"
"No, I'm not. I was actually quite worried about you."
"But I thought you hate me."
"Just let me talk," Benson said, not keeping eye contact with Rigby. "I can understand what you're going through right now because I was once addicted to the smack myself."
Rigby was surprised by that statement. "So that's why you're always an irritable douche."
Benson smiled. "Shut up, Rigby. I no longer crave the stuff. It's been almost fifteen years since I've been off of it. I was around your age."
"How did you afford your habit?"
"Remember stick hockey?"
"Oh . . . but why did you start in the first place?"
"Everyone in my family has always been hotheaded. I didn't want to become like them. I wanted to become a peaceful person. My father said he'd disown me if I didn't start shouting incoherently like him."
"That's the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. Is that why you became a pot-smoking hippie?"
"Yes, that's why I became one. When my father found out, you can imagine how furious he was. He did disown me, but fortunately I was nineteen at the time. I became homeless, and the only place I could find shelter was in the seediest parts of the city. That's when I became addicted to heroin." Benson clasped his hands and looked down to the ground. "Sure, I was no longer hotheaded, but I was lifeless. When I overdosed, I was put into rehab; I believe it's the same one you just left."
Rigby's eyes were wide open. He never paid this much attention to anything Benson had said before.
"Once I left, I was able to get a job here at the park," Benson said. "I started off as part of the maintenance crew, just like you once were here, but then I became the manager. And you already know the rest."
"I would have never thought you were once a drug addict," Rigby said. "You seem like the complete opposite of one."
"I know. I have tried my best to become as fastidious as possible. In the end I became exactly what I never wanted to become – an easily agitated asshole – but I guess that's just life."
"You don't seem very happy about how you turned out."
"No, but I realize it could have been much worse. I could still be a drug addict living in the slums or I could even have died." Benson sighed. "Rigby, you're still young. You have your whole life ahead of you. Please learn from your mistakes."
"Otherwise I'll become a miserable park manager, right?"
Benson stood up from the bench. Rigby though he had angered him, but Benson chuckled. "Ha, good one. Just don't start using heroin again. I have to get back to work now." Benson walked away, but stopped after a few steps. "If you need a job, I'm willing to hire you again. The others, believe it or not, miss your mischief."
"I'll think about it."
"Well then, take care."
Rigby had gained a whole new impression of Benson. Rigby then thought why Benson didn't help him when he clearly showed signs of a severe drug addiction. Was his pride too hard to swallow? Did he enjoy seeing Rigby suffer? Whatever was the case, Benson finally showed his compassionate side to Rigby. This caused Rigby to start hesitating to seek his next fix.
Rigby ran to the park's public restroom to splash water from a sink into his face to clear himself of bad thoughts. Before he was about to enter the male's restroom, he saw Margaret exit it.
"Margaret, what the hell are you doing there?" Rigby said. He then saw an obese middle age construction worker leave the restroom.
"Best hundred bucks I've spent in a long time," the man said to Margaret. Margaret tried to hide her face from Rigby.
"What the? You're a . . ." Rigby said.
"Yes, I'm a hooker!" Margaret cried. "Please, don't tell Mordecai. I wouldn't be able to live with myself."
"You wouldn't be able to live with yourself?" Rigby said, mocking her tone. "Do you realize that you're playing around with his emotions? He probably could easily get some other girl, but he likes you. He really likes you."
"I know, and I really like him too. I just don't know how he'd react if he ever found out that I do . . . this."
"Then why don't you quit selling yourself? It's not that hard, right?"
"I have an addiction," Margaret said very quietly.
"To prostitution?"
"No, to heroin."
"What?"
"You heard me. I'm addicted to heroin. That's why I sell myself to these ugly men. It's very easy, obtainable money."
"Does anyone else know about this?"
"Only my coworker."
"Eileen?"
"Yes. She's also my dealer. In fact, her family runs the coffee shop as a money laundering business for the money they earn from drugs. Funny, isn't it?"
"I would have never thought her the type to do such a thing. And I thought the coffee shop was a legitimate business all along, but now it makes sense, considering how many weirdos me and Mordecai have encountered there."
Margaret put her hands on Rigby's shoulders. "Promise me you won't tell Mordecai about this."
Rigby pushed her hands away. "Yeah, whatever." Rigby suddenly had a thought that made him grin evilly. "You're going to have to do something in return if you want me to keep quiet about this."
Margaret grimaced. "Oh, how cute. You're blackmailing your best friend's love interest."
"I don't want to hear you complain at all."
Margaret pouted. "Whatever. You want to do it now?"
"What?"
"It's sex that you're after, right?"
Rigby was disgusted at how little respect she had for her body. He would never want Margaret after learning she was a prostitute. "Of course not. I want some smack."
Margaret leered at Rigby. "Mordecai told me you just got out of rehab."
"So what? From this point on you're going to be my way of acquiring a fix. If you have a problem with this I'll tell Mordecai what you've been doing all this time."
"Fuck you, asshole! What makes you think I'll listen to whatever you tell me to do? Maybe I'll just tell Mordecai you blackmailed me about my problem. If I'm going down, you're coming down with me."
Rigby was about to insult her when he thought of solution for their problems. "Fine, how about you only give me five grams? I won't ever bother you again, and I won't tell Mordecai about your hidden life. Is it a deal?"
"Fine, meet me outside of the coffee shop at 10pm."
Rigby was excited. He was finally going to the fix he had craved for weeks.
Rigby was sitting on the front stairs of the park house, waiting for Mordecai to returns. Pops came out of the garage door and greeted Rigby.
"Hello Rigby!" Pops said. "How was rehab?" He made it sound as if rehab was summer camp.
"Oh, it was okay." Rigby said.
"Do tell me more!"
"We played some board games, talked about each others' lives, watched inspirational videos, yeah."
"Sounds fun! I wish I was there."
"Become addicted to a drug or alcohol and you can go there."
"But drugs and alcohol are bad." Pops shook his index finger in Rigby's face.
"That's right. Now please leave me alone."
"If you say so."
About five minutes passed when Mordecai showed up in front of the house in a golf cart.
"Mordecai, how did your date with Margaret go?"
"She never showed up, as usual." Mordecai frowned.
Rigby had an urge to tell Mordecai what she had been doing all along, but if he did that he would have to find another way to get heroin. "I'm sorry to hear that, bro."
"Dude, it's okay. I'm sure she'll come to her senses one day. Now let's go inside."
Before Mordecai could put his hand on the doorknob, Rigby ran up and jumped onto his chest, hugging him. There were tears in his eyes. "Mordecai, don't ever do heroin," Rigby said.
"Dude, you know I never will." He tried to push Rigby off of him, but his grip was too tight. "What's gotten into you?"
Rigby finally stopped hugging him. "I'm sorry, Mordecai. I just hope you never have to experience this living hell."
"Uh thanks dude, I guess," Mordecai said, scratching his cheek out of awkwardness.
They played video games for a few hours until Rigby told Mordecai that he had to go to Muscle Man's trailer.
"Why do you need to go there?" Mordecai asked. "I was just about to bring out the hookah."
"He said he has something to give me," Rigby said.
"Okay, then. See you later," Mordecai said.
Rigby stood outside the entrance of the coffee shop. The night air was cold, and he was shivering a bit. Margaret finally was done with work.
"Follow me," she said. They walked into her car. "We need to go someplace less conspicuous." She drove for a few blocks until she found a vacant alleyway where she could park her car.
"Here you go," she said to Rigby, handing him a bag of five grams of heroin.
"Holy shit," Rigby said. "I've never seen heroin this white in my life."
"Eileen says her father got a huge shipment of the stuff today."
"Can I use it here?"
"Sure, I'm about to take a hit of speedball myself."
Rigby opened the passenger compartment and found some spoons and bottles of water. He spread some heroin onto a spoon, added some water, then lit the bottom of the spoon to heat up the liquid.
"Give me a syringe," Rigby commanded. Margaret handed him one from the glove compartment. Rigby loaded the syringe with the liquid. He wrapped a power cord he found in the backseats around his arm, then he inject the heroin into his arm. He quickly removed the cord.
"Oh God, this stuff," Rigby said. "I feel like I'm floating in heaven."
"Yeah, it's really something else," said Margaret.
Margaret and Rigby brought their seats back so they could lie down, enjoying their highs. Fifteen minutes later, Margaret had a violent coughing fit. She sat up and vomited all over her dashboard. She then passed out with her head on the steering wheel. This caused the horn to constantly beep.
"Margaret, get," Rigby was too high to do anything. He had lost control of most of his muscles. He lay on his seat, until he too lost consciousness.
Both of them didn't realize how potent the heroin they were given was. Both had died from an overdose.
When Mordecai found out about the incident, he became depressed almost to the point of suicide. He had taken a month off from work, but he was still paid for the time since Benson understood how he felt. Mordecai vowed to never use drugs again in his life, even though most of the time he spent with Rigby involved one of some sort.
It was a Regular Show of the influence of drugs.