A/N: Soooooo sorry this has taken years and years to do. . . school and everything. Although, it is the Christmas holidays and I got no school til the 5th of January, so I'm gonna try and get this finished. There's gotta be some grass around here somewhere!

Chapter Two

It took us nearly a day, but we managed to get into Nevada. Of course, it took us a day so we could stop and ask for grass, what the fuck is wrong, man? There is no grass anywhere!

As we got into Nevada, I was beginning to see things. Like billboards and all over the roadside, grass, ether, cocaine, mescaline, acid, the list went on and on. As we stopped at the sixth stop and came away empty handed, I thought I saw a pattern.

Then Ema helpfully tells me there are no such signs, and this was a hallucination. It was a bad one. No grass? No ether? No cocaine, mescaline, acid?

Wait, a hallucination without the aid of drugs? Was I crazy? Maybe. We headed into the seventh stop.

"Hello-" I gaze at the boys name tag. "Juan." I pause. "Juan, my good man! I am looking for, some, grass, would you happen to know where I can find a field?" He looks a little confused. No grass? I know the feeling.

"A field?" he manages to croak.

"A FIELD!" I inquire politely, slamming my fist on the checkout.

"I don't know no fields sir," he says.

"No fields? Are you useless? You are useless!"

He looked a little baffled.

"Come on Ema, we need to find a cow!"

As soon as we got to the door, a great Stetson-wearing Texan came in, I coward in fright, for a moment. Then said,

"Excuse me sir, do you know where we could find some milk?" He did look a little genuinely confused for a moment, then pointed over to a refridgerator clearly labelled 'dairy produce,' and suggested we try over there.

It was obvious to me that the white liquid stuff in plastic containers was not milk, so to avoid hurting his feelings we quietly went out the back way, and got into the car.

-----

As we trailed further into Nevada, again, we went from diarys to quantum physics. Not that either of us knew piss about quantum physics. And neither did the poor soul we asked about it.

Not that we just talked crap, I'm not one for glorifying drug use, I had a horrible headache, Ema passed out a while, and I did feel downright rotten. But I think that was because it was now forty eight hours since we shared a tab of acid. Yup, forty eight, hours, and couting.

For a while, I couldn't even drive. I mean, I could drive, but we'd swerved off the road three or four times, so we spent a leisurely two hours sitting in the car in silence, still as statues.

Amazingly, when I started the car again, I was in good spirits. I haven't felt good while being clean for a long time; not that I had much experience of being clean or anything. But Ema was laughing, we were driving a hundred miles an hour down an open road, and life felt good.

-----

Driving through the deserts of Nevada, we found ourselves coming pretty close to Las Vegas. 'I wonder how the old place is?'

"You remember Las Vegas?" I ask Ema. Fuck, she wasn't at Las Vegas, stupid stupid brain scrabbled with no cocaine. I felt my body calling out for it. "Cocaaaaaine! Cocaaaaaaaaaaaaine!"

And I found that as we approached the Strip, things began to get a bit blurry, I saw Gonzo, fuck I thought he was dead? Kicked the bucket, pushing up daises, there's something wrong with me, I can't think of any more expressions. It was daylight but I saw the lights, the chips, the heights of Las Vegas.

I sighed as we got through to the other side, as if in a dream.

I soon realized I was in a dream because Ema was slapping me with the hard end of the fly-swatter and we'd haphazardly driven off the road into the sand. Over the sand. Oh alright! And I'd driven haphazardly off the road into the sand.

I got out to have a look at the mess. Sure the car would start, but it wouldn't move.

"You're gonna have to get out and push," I told Ema, she looked out from the front seat.

"Push?" she asked. I nodded, and made a pushing action into the air. She jumped out of the car, slapped the trunk as she came by which gave an almighty crrrrrrang!

We pushed. And nothing happened. Oh, I'd collapsed. We pushed again, nothing, I was beginning to sweat, pushing in Las Vegas was like pushing in the desert. Oh.

"Come on, one last time, we're nearly there, when you feel it next, you're doing great, one last push," I encouraged Ema. We pushed. And the car obideiently get back onto the road, and rolled maybe fifty feet. I looked a little confused.

"This is a flat road right?" I asked Ema.

"Sure," she shouted back, running to catch up with the car.

Las Vegas sure wasn't what it used to be. . .