Another busy workday at the Park draws to a close
The Sun sets while a Spring chill gathers in the air.
Benson, sensing this, yelled out to his still working crew: "Alright gentleman, it's time to call it a night! Let's bring these tools back to the shed."
The crew picked up the tools and left for the shed, except for Muscleman and Skips, who instead drove the dump truck and the skid steer back to their parking spaces in the maintenance yard.
"I better have a look at what those two slackers are doing," said Benson to himself.
To his surprise, he saw them in the shed, stacking and hanging tools. Benson walked up to Mordecai and Rigby to congratulate them on a job well done. "Well boys, I must say, I was quite impressed with the efforts you put forth today. You keep working like that, and soon you'll be driving the truck." Focused on their work for once, the two slackers did not notice; Benson only smiled in response.
"Well, I'm off. See you in the morning!"
"See ya, Benson!" said the crew.
"See you..drive safe!" said Hi-Five Ghost.
Later that evening, at the old park caretaker's house...
Mordecai and Rigby are in the living room, playing video games. Muscleman and Starla are in the kitchen having a late dinner. A tired Pops is in the living room, trying in vain to convince the two slackers to call it a night.
Bags of chips and empty cans of cola litter the floor around them while the two sat at the edge of the couch, eyes glued to the screen, greasy hands gripping the controllers like a vise. The level they were on, being particularly difficult, would lead to frequent grunts and curses as their characters died, leading to more sips of caffeinated cola being drunk and handfuls of chips being munched.
Pops gave them a worried look, "Boys, if you keep drinking those beverages, you won't fall asleep, and tomorrow is a busy day."
"Yeah, we know Pops… thanks for your concern," said Rigby, without making eye contact.
"Boys, I understand how you feel, but midnight approaches, and soon shall I retire to my bedchambers; I advise you to do the same."
"Before you know it, morning shall be upon us. By then, you would've had no rest." And with that last effort of persuasion, Pops left for his bedroom upstairs, leaving the two to their fate.
In the kitchen, Muscleman and his fiancé are finishing their dinner of instant macaroni and jug wine.
"Oh Mitch, I love it when you cook for me! And you made Italian. How romantic!"
"Anything for you, babe!" said Mitch as he reached in for a passionate kiss.
"Mac and cheese ain't Italian," said Mordecai without turning his head, annoyed both by Muscleman's ignorance and the sound of lip-smacking affecting his concentration.
"Oh yeah, smart ass! Then why did Chef Boyardee put his name on it? Huh! Huh! Huh! Huh!" said Muscleman, heckles rising with each "Huh."
"It's a brand, dude," said Mordecai, rolling his eyes.
"So, what's your point?" said Muscleman, still angry.
"I'm not going to even answer that question," said Mordecai, knowing how Muscleman would get belligerent. Not wanting to waste time with an argument, Mordecai preferred to let his co-worker bask in his own ignorance than to take time away from his video game and risk his character dying.
"That's because you lost the argument!" said Muscleman with satisfaction.
"Whatever..." said Mordecai, unconcerned.
A few minutes later, Muscleman and Starla finished eating. Walking over to the sink, they gave their plates a quick rinse before shoving them into the dishwasher.
"Alright losers, me & Starla are off to my trailer to have sex. See you in the morning! Don't forget to run the dishwasher. I expect my bowl to be clean for cereal tomorrow! You hear!"
"Sure, won't forget," responded Mordecai, unconcerned.
"Oh, Mitch! Let's do it doggystyle, my favorite position," said a wide-eyed Starla to her lover.
"Sure thing, babe!" responded Muscleman as he and Starla walked off into the night, slamming the front door behind them.
Mordecai shuddered as a feeling of nausea crept over his stomach as he thought about in vivid detail Muscleman and Starla getting it on; and in his mind, could see and hear the smacking together of green, sweaty, flabby skin. Distracted by this, Mordecai let his character get shot by an enemy, costing him the game.
Rigby giggled and said, "Oh man, you got pwned..."
"Whatever, dude... I'm done with this stupid-ass game. I'm going to the porch for a cigarette; see you in a bit." said Mordecai as he rose from the couch.
"Wait, Mordecai! Don't leave yet. I got something I want to show ya," said Rigby, with a sly devilish grin. Mordecai paused, curious as to what Rigby had to show him. Not one to miss his smoke break, he cast a stern glance and said: "Rigby, this better be good."
"Oh, it is... trust me", said Rigby with a sly grin as he got down on his stomach and crawled underneath the couch.
Seconds later, he emerged.
Chips, gum wrappers, dustballs, and other trash clung to his matted fur. Yet despite his unseemly appearance, a grin spanned across his face from ear to ear.
For there he stood in triumph: a giant bong made of green-tinted glass in his left hand and a plastic bag full of weed in his right.
He looked at Mordecai with a mischievous grin and raised his eyebrows a few times, "Look what I found!"
Unfortunately, Mordecai was not impressed.
Overcome with anger at Rigby's lack of discretion, he scolded his friend:
"Dude, what the hell are you doing with that in the living room?! Are you a moron?"
With no response from Rigby, Mordecai continued:
"You're supposed to keep that shit in the attic. If Benson finds out we're smoking in the house, we're toast! Not even Pops can give us our jobs back. Is that what you want, to lose your job? For us to lose our jobs?"
"Relax, dawg; nothing's going to happen. It's legal now, remember?" responded an unconcerned Rigby.
"Only for medical purposes…with a prescription. When's the last time you saw a doctor? Hmmm!"
Rigby said nothing. He was already packing the bong and was too busy to continue the conversation.
"Hmmm! Hmmm! Hmmm!... thought so", said Mordecai, out loud, but ultimately to himself.
"Anyways, I'm opening the window," said he, as he did just that.
"If you are going smoke, at least let's air the place out so Benson won't smell it in the morning."
Rigby ignored him and continued with his work.
Satisfied with his setup, Rigby reached for his lighter and let out a deep breath.
"Here goes," he muttered as he struck the lighter before wrapping lips around the mouth of the bong. While holding the flame to the mass of weed assembled in the bowl of the bong, he drew in a massive inhale of smoke. Feeling satisfied, he withdrew his mouth from the bong and held his breath for a few seconds before erupting into a fit of coughs.
"WHEWWW, THAT'S SOME DANK-ASS WEED!" he remarked hoarsely while coughing, as the smoke cleared from his lungs and filled the air around him.
After the spasms wore off, Rigby shouted over to Mordecai, who by now was in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge, looking for something to drink.
"Alright, Mordo, you're up!"
At this point, Mordecai gave up trying to convince his friend not to smoke in the living room. Still, he was reluctant to join him, although the temptation was undoubtedly strong.
"I don't know, bro...That guy we bought the weed from kept talking about how strong it is and how we'd have to exercise caution and use it at our own risk and stuff. Besides, weird shit always happens when we get high."
"Dude, weird shit happens to us even when we are sober," replied Rigby as he began a recap of their crazy adventures: caffeinated monsters, sentient radio stations, the Earth splitting into two for failure to perform a solid, diary guardians, animal graveyards, zombies, and other zany things.
After offering enough examples to convince his friend, he concluded by saying:
"The way I see it, Mordo, crazy stuff will happen to us no matter what we do. But if I'm high, at least I can find it amusing."
"Well, you got a point there," said Mordecai.
Realizing his friend won't take no for an answer and curious himself about the quality of the weed, he instructed Rigby to pack him a hit, "Go for it!"
"At your service!" said an excited Rigby as he joyously packed the bong before presenting it to Mordecai for his approval and consumption.
Mordecai left out a deep breath and drew in the hit.
As a bird, he lacked a diaphragm and could only draw in so much before coughing uncontrollably.
"Dude, that was a weak hit. Is that all you got?" said Rigby with disappointment, unaware of the differences in anatomy between mammals and birds.
Worried that his friend may not have received an adequate dose, he prepared to pack him another hit. "Want me to pack you another?"
Mordecai could only cough in response.
"You sure about that?"
"No, I'm good," said Mordecai, finally able to talk.
He melted into the couch. As his body relaxed and the high kicked in, he slowly slipped into a dream.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I always felt that Mordecai and Rigby were stoners like I did about Shaggy and Scoob. Sure, you don't see them smoking in the show, but as an adult watching it, you get the impression that they enjoy their "wacky tobaccy." Since this is a mature audience fanfiction, I tried to capture that belief in the plot. I hope you like it. Even though the pacing is slow, I enjoyed writing this because I enjoy writing dialog, two friends yapping at each other, talking about everything and nothing in particular. Please review and comment.
