Arrange Marrige To The PlayBoy!

Chapter 4

Name:

I swear they're your relatives!

When you go on a wild goose chase,

Remember to carry a weapon of protection, perhaps mace?

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Q U A T R E :

Chapter 4: The Drug Chase

I boldly sat on my chair my mind going crazy in a migraine with all these stressful thoughts. The game which would be hosted in a few weeks time. Feeling the thoughts wash up on me like a tidal wave, I hit the bong. Sniff a few cocaine and see my neighbour the drug lord Rio looking like he's constipated or drunk in stress. My eyes profusely transformed red from the inhalation of smoke. I was going to do shit I didn't want to.

Kicking the wood, I decided to approach him. Even though he seemed dangerous cause he was, he was nice to me or at least as pleasant as he can get, he says he can relate to me. My feet pattered on the side walk as I opened his gates and welcomed my self on his plush outside seat, the swings rocked lightly.

"Why you running around your garden? Playing chase with the pigeons?" I snort and he acknowledges me with a panic woven face before a smile graces his lips, mischievously.

"So you know, airport security is like a bitch. I need to smuggle some drugs across the border and I need a family to make me this situation realistic. I got my wife sorted; that stripper down the street, a daughter which is that freaky manic nasal voiced nerd perhaps still a virgin. And I need a son, a rebellious one. So that it seems like you've got some of my antics!" He explains and I back up a few steps.

"No" I say and shake my head violently and vigorously.

"Listen it's just for a day, do me a favour . . . Please?" I was gob smacked. He pleaded. "If you don't dude I'ma blame this shit, if I get caught, on you" he says threateningly, he sparked some baby girl in me. He was after all some leader, mafia to be precise.

His mother taught him etiquettes and manners. Applaud to you mother India!

"Alright!" I exclaim and walk with him. I would so regret this, it's not my fault I'm not myself when I do some joints. Why don't i just run out? Why'd I agree? This could be some sort of distraction.

Oh yeah to hide out from my fanatic life. Thanks for reminding me you son of a gun!

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Getting my passport ready for the day, I enter the R&B and stealthily walked lugging my luggage and boarding it in the section provided for our possessions. Walking in I scanned the freaky looking nerd, she had knotty hair with glasses perched up on her nose. Her hair just looked like a bird nest, I refrained myself from asking what the hell was living up there?!

The lady, whom was a stripper was obviously hot, but it looked like she had liposuction in her cheeks and her fatness was skimmed so it looked like she had the outline of a raw skeleton. She was wearing revealing clothes showing more than a boy could wish for. As we parked outside some abandoned warehouse, security guards opened the gates after we answered many questions. They loaded the truck and I screamed mentally. How the fuck we going to escape this country with that much?

The girl, who was too busy wheezing and singing raps which I found extremely funny since she thought she could rap like one of those professionals, was staring at me.

So I decided to start a conversation with her.

"I prefer EMINEM" I say emphasising that his name, so she'd just snap out of her gazing trance.