Get ready for everyone's two favorite stoners as they enter the most fucked-up place on earth. It's Jay and Silent Bob in Nerima!
Note: this is a short multi-chapter piece, and will be about three chapters long. It proved too long to be a one-shot.
(Warning: Pervasive Language and Drug Humor! You have been warned!)
Snootchie Bootchies!
Red Bank, New Jersey. Not your average USA town. But nothing special, either. The people here are the kind you'd rather not associate with. Sure, many of them are nice people, but the place is full of weird bastards who just do the stupidest of things.
But hey, let's focus on the story at hand, shall we?
Two men who live here have lived here their entire lives. Not long ago, they struck it rich, and lived in Hollywood for a while. But, as usual, they (or rather, one of them) squandered what money they made, and destroyed any attempts of making more from their characters being used in the popular comic Bluntman and Chronic. Yes, the two Quick Stop stoners themselves, Jay and Silent Bob.
The comic had been really popular after the movie, and the ensuing TV series had been even better. But, eventually, the two felt they should have gotten to write out their own adventures. And that's what sunk them. Well, that and the fact that Jay had been busted for trying to have a large shipment of animal tranquilizer dealt to him within the Los Angeles City limits. The resulting standoff with the police had claimed the life of a badly pissed Banky Edwards, but Jay and Silent Bob only got a small amount of time. But that's all in the past. The two are currently back where they started.
Jay snorted as he stood outside the Quick Stop. He and Silent Bob had been there all week. Either Randal had forgotten to renew the restraining order again, or he just didn't care anymore. Either way was just fine, though.
Jay was thinking of something else to do. It had been a pretty boring week. Even though they were allowed to stand outside the Quick Stop again, they were always watched when they entered the store, so it wasn't easy to steal anything. Also, dealing had become a bit harder, now that people always saw the two sucky comic book characters when they looked at the stoners.
"Hey, Lunchbox, will you put down that fuckin' cigarette, and help me think of something?"
Silent Bob continued to smoke as he looked at Jay. Jay scowled.
"Look, asshole, we're fucking broke, and we don't have much stuff left! What the fuck are we gonna do if you don't start shaping up and helping the fuck out!"
Silent Bob threw out his cig, and turned to Jay. He stretched out his hands in a questioning manner, as if asking 'Well, what do you have in mind?'
"You know, you really are dumb. We have to find a way to make some cash, or else we're not gonna get back into the business again so easily. We gotta make some money so we can get some good shit. You know, something new, something out of this fucking world! Something that'll blow these people's minds, anyone who buys the shit! That's the kinda boost we need to get our names back, and to trash those two stupid comic names! You know how we're gonna do that? When you hurry up and think of a fucking idea!"
Silent Bob gave Jay a clearly hurt look, and turned around.
"Oh, man, don't start that shit again. Look, I'm sorry, is that good enough for you?"
Bob didn't move.
"Look, you fat fuck, I said I was sorry! What more do you-" Jay stopped, actually trying to control his anger. "Okay, okay, you win. I'll think of an idea, you do whatever you want.
Bob turned around, seeming to say 'That's better'. He then reached into his pocket, pulled out a wad of bills, and started counting them.
"Jesus!" Jay yelled. "Where the hell did you get all that dough?" He reached for it, only to have it snatched away by Silent Bob.
"How much you got there? That must be at least sixty bucks! How the fuck did you get all of that?"
Bob made a stance like a surfer. Jay faltered.
"You sold our last edition copy of Silver Surfer, didn't you?"
He nodded.
"You shoulda' gotten more than that from Brodie, man. Okay, so we got some cash. Now, let's get something to eat, then go and find some guy with some good shit. We're gonna spend all out time making some of the wildest shit you've ever seen! Bong!"
Silent Bob responded with his Bluntman stance. All of a sudden, a kid on a bike raced by, only to stop by the two.
"Hey, you two- that movie about you guys starring Morris Day and Tobey Maguire- it SUCKED! HA HA HA!" He raced off.
Jay ran after him, only to be held back by Silent Bob. "You stupid little FUCK! Don't you ever talk like that about Tobey Maguire again! I'm gonna fucking kick your ass, just like I did back in those days when we had the money to fly around!" He struggled with his restrainer. "Get offa me, fat-ass!"
Jay finally calmed down. "I swear, that little shit is the first one we get once we make it big again, you hear? Good. Let's go." They both walked down the street, past the RST Video, and out of sight.
After eating a hearty meal at Moobey's™, the two stoners headed into the darker part of town, Leonardo, New Jersey. With fifty bucks, they had to buy the best shit they could of many different kinds, then start their experimenting. After that look Randal had given them on the way past RST video, Jay remembered that the prick had bought a 12-guage. As if he would ever rob that stupid video store! People could be fucking crazy in this town.
They first tried to score some stuff from Willem. But Willem had already downed the last of his weed and pills, and was now in a state no one wanted to see. When Jay and Bob had found him, he had been giving himself solo snowballs™ (If you haven't seen Clerks, and/or don't know what 'snowballing' is, you need to see the movie!). The two had run from the scene in disgust, with Jay losing the Moobey burger he had eaten only minutes earlier.
They kept trying, every person they had ever dealt with. After four hours of searching, all they had was a dimebag, a few bottles of caffeine pills, a few hits of acid, and 3 ounces of ether. Not much they could do with all that.
"Oh well" Jay said, sighing in defeat as they stood in the dark alley between Quick Stop and RST. "We tried our best, Lunchbox. Looks like we won't make it this time around."
Bob nodded his head in sad agreement.
"C'mon, let's go get ripped on this stuff. Go out with a bang, maybe we'll find some desperate dyke who's had a little too much to drink."
They started to leave when they noticed someone else entering the alley. Jay turned, and saw him. He thought whom he looked like before he recognized him as some old Chinese guy who had run into them once. He shrugged it off, and began to walk away.
"Oh! Gentlemen!"
Jay stopped in his tracks, and turned around again. "Whaddya' want, old man? We don't have any money on us!"
The man walked up to them slowly, using a leg support cane. "I doubt that. I saw your friend selling one of your comics earlier today. You're bound to have something left."
Jay stepped forward. "Okay, so maybe we do have some dough! But that doesn't mean you're getting any of it, so why are you wasting your fucking time by asking?"
"Oh, gentlemen, gentlemen, I didn't come to beg. I have merely come to deal with you."
Jay scoffed, exchanged looks with Silent Bob, and sniggered at the man. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? 'I have merely come to deal with you gentlemen', how about speaking like a normal fucking douche bag? C'mon, Tubby, let's get out of here."
"So, you don't want any new shit?"
Jay stopped again, and turned around yet again.
"There. Is that way more to your liking?"
"Whaddya' mean 'new shit'? What do you got?"
The man walked even closer to them. Bob stepped closer as well, and Jay followed, sighing.
"I happen to have some very rare and special opium with me. Stuff like you've never seen before."
Jay laughed. "Opium? That's it? And for a second, I thought it might be interesting."
"For your information, Chronic, this shit came all the way from Qinghai, China. I brought it back with me long ago. Only I had a much bigger supply then. This is all that's left of it. It's out of this world. Stuff like you've never laid eyes on. Like ten tons of elephant tranquilizer in one hit."
"Okay, so you could make some horse with it. Big deal, people get that shit all the time. What are we gonna get from that?"
"It's not just the opium. If you grind up some acid, mix it with this stuff in ether mixed with a bit of varnish and water, and harden it back into a solid the way you do with crack, you get the best damn shit ever to cross God's green earth. When you roll it up and puff it, you'll forget everything about the world around you. Imagine it, gentlemen: being in a world beyond anything you've ever dreamed, all the while feeling the effects of the best hit you've ever had. I promise you that."
The two stoners stood in silence for a few seconds. After a bit, Bob moved his hands around, asking for more. Jay stopped him.
"Knock it off! Okay, so we make the 'best shit we've ever had'. What then? We're looking for something we can make more of, and sell to others! We don't just want one fucking hit! And you said you had no more of the shit!"
"Well, I may be out of the opium, but I still have a few of those 'special' poppies growing inside my house. If you like this stuff enough, come back and buy the poppies. You can grow more of them, process the opium, and make as much as you want! But first, I have to know if you two will like it enough. Deal?"
Jay sighed. It was probably gonna be their only chance in a long time. If they could get that good, they could reestablish their names in the rep once again. It was worth a try.
"Okay, old man, deal. How much for the bag?"
"Fifty dollars for one one-pound bag."
"Fifty bucks! Why the fuck are you ripping us off?"
"That's how it is, gentlemen. I don't plan to live much longer, and I want to really live my last moments on this planet. Take it or leave it."
Jay scowled again, then motioned to Silent Bob. "Okay, pay him."
Bob fished out the last of their dough, and handed it to the old man, who, in turn, gave them the bag of white powder.
"It's been a pleasure doing business with you, gentlemen. I'll see you on the flip-side." He slowly left the alley.
After watching him go, Jay scoffed. "Okay, fat-ass, let's go."
It was now 5 am, and the two were finishing up in the abandoned warehouse they had made their temporary home. Jay and Bob had spent hours mixing the ingredients, and hardening the substance into a solid, which they had since ground up. It had been hard to find some varnish late at night, but they had stopped by Dante's house and snuck into his garage. Now, the stuff was finished.
Jay looked down at the pile of brownish powder they had just ground up. Like the old man said, it contained acid, ether, and the opium, mixed in varnish and water, and hardened into crack. Now was the time to see if it worked as good as the old hack had said it would.
Jay took one of the wrappers from his pocket, stuffed some of the powder onto the paper, and rolled the crack hit. He handed it to Silent Bob, then made his own. Silent Bob pulled out his trusty Zippo™ lighter, and lit both of the joints. The two went and sat on their beanbag™ chairs, and breathed in slowly.
"This is it, Tubby." Silent Bob nodded in response.
The two inhaled the new stuff, taking in as much smoke as they could. Afterwards, they exhaled. They waited. Nothing.
"Dammit! How come nothing's happening? I knew we shouldn't have gone for this shit, it's just…whoa…"
Jay sat back in his chair, his mind leaving behind the real world. Brilliant colors, as well as images of Banky being gunned down by the police, Dante being beaten up by an angry customer, and himself fingering a high school girl when she was asleep, flashed before his eyes. He sniggered to himself.
Silent Bob had gone down the same path. The two were lost in their own worlds now, only having enough consciousness to bring the joints back to their mouths to take another puff.
Pure bliss followed…
Hours later, it was early morning. The two, now less stoned, but still pretty stoned, started to wake up. The sound of birds chirping could be heard from where the two stoners sat slumped onto a wall. Jay moved around slowly, trying to make out the noise. Funny, birds usually stayed away from this area in Jersey, Jay thought. Or they just didn't make any noise.
The two were pretty much over their high by now, although others may not have known the difference. The after effects were making it harder for Jay to open his eyes. He slowly moved his hand towards his lap, still clutching the joint.
Suddenly, he felt the burn in his pants. He jumped up, and danced around in pain.
"Ow, shit! Shit! Get it offa me!"
He brushed off his lap, and rubbed his eyes.
"Christ, what a ride, eh, Lunchbox? Pretty nice. But what time is-"
He stopped cold when he saw his overweight friend. Something wasn't right. Silent Bob looked like Silent Bob, but he looked a lot different. He seemed brighter.
Jay moved his hands up to his face. They looked weird. No, they looked- they looked drawn!
Jay looked around the room; sure enough, everything looked like it had been painted with bright colors to look like a cartoon. Silent Bob looked the same way.
"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" Jay yelled. He then kicked his friend lightly in the side.
"Wake up, Tubby! Something fucked up is going on! WAKE UP!"
Silent Bob shifted, and opened his eyes. Jay gasped again when he saw them.
"The eyes…their…their like that…that fucking Japanimation, or something!"
Silent Bob looked up at Jay with a shocked look. He then jumped to his feet, and pointed at Jay's face, open-mouthed. 'Look at you!' he seemed to say.
"What, it's happened to me, too?" Jay asked. Bob nodded.
Jay turned away, catching his breath. "Holy shit. This really was some heavy shit." He picked up the bag of the stuff they had mixed, and turned back to Silent Bob.
"You still got that pansy compact with you?"
Bob gave him an angry look, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small mirror. The two looked at themselves, and, sure enough, had become perfect anime versions of themselves.
"Lunchbox, we've become fucking cartoons."
Bob nodded his head in agreement.
"And not those stupid badly-drawn cartoons they made of us! Japanese cartoons! Motherfucker! This is some baaaad shit, man."
Jay felt his back, rubbing the soreness. "C'mon, let's see what the rest of Jersey looks like when we're on this shit!"
And with that, they walked to the door of the warehouse. Little did they know that things would only get crazier once they stepped out into the world of anime.
Sorry for the absence of Ranma and co., but they'll show up in the next chapter. Hope you liked the first chapter. Read and review, please!
About the whole drug mixing thing: it's bullshit. But then again, so is half the stuff that appears in Kevin Smith's movies.