Karma's Happenstance (Guns n Roses - Izzy Stradlin/OC/Nikki Sixx - Mötley Crüe)

Awry

Scoring junk is just like a full time job with overtime and no benefits. Yes. Me and Slash are gonna jack somebody. Yes. We know this is wrong. Yes. This makes us criminals. And yes. We are doing this just for the sole purpose of getting high. But you just don't understand how bad we need it.

When your fucking bones are aching, muscles crawling, guts churning, nose running, and sweating, you tend to do what you have to do to fix yourself.

The mist that had been covering us was now forming into small little raindrops. We're getting
wetter. I'm in leather pants. They fucking suck when they get wet. I can't imagine being much more miserable right now.

I wait a few minutes, hoping that Slash's brain will backtrack itself and realize how risky it was to
do this thing. But he won't.
He's really fucking serious about this. In the wake of being dope sick, you just can't think clearly.

"So you really wanna do this shit?" I ask again as I try one last time to get a sane reaction from
him.

I know he's right. We need to do something. Fast. And the only logical thing that comes to our
fucked up fiendish minds is ripping off the source of that in which we are craving for. Life could be so fucking easy at times. But mostly it just isn't that fucking simple.

"Yeah, sure." He says full of vigor."We just pretend to buy some shit and then we just jack him at
gunpoint."

I'm sure in his twisted mind this whole thing played out fine. However, in reality this was a bit
more complicated.

Slash being drunk next to me makes me realize how sober I actually am at this point.
"This is fucking dangerous, man." I say, rubbing my aching temples. This was the beginning of a splitting headache. "You really think I'm the only armed drug dealer in town?"

Slash just gives me a shrug like he's out of fucking ideas and that is the only option we have left.
It actually is.
"Shit!" I swear and wipe some sweat and rain off my forehead. So I guess I'm really gonna do this shit. "I'm way to sober for this." I mumble and push Slash out of the shadows to the sidewalk. He glares at me, not getting why I'm suddenly moving. "There's a liquor store down the street. I so need a drink before we go through with this shit." I say and he gives me a smirk.

He just looks at me and nods. He immediately gets what I intend to do. We've done it a thousand times before.
Slash is different though. He never pays for fucking shit. Trust me, I mean this shit.

He fucking never pays for anything. He just takes what he wants and walks off. And he's a fucking pro in doing it. He even managed to steal a god damn python from the pet store once. He just grabbed it from the terrarium, put it into his jacket and walked out.
Even though I mostly pay for nursing my habits, sometimes there's just not enough cash around.
Like tonight. We walk into the liquor store, scanning the room for customers.

The doorbell rings and the head of that guy behind the counter shoots up. We're the only customers and considering our appearance, he eyes us carefully. Yeah, we look like shit. I wouldn't even let us near anything if I was him.Slash directly strolls towards the shelf with the good stuff, I make my way to the coolers in the back. We keep looking at each other, not breaking eye contact. Ripping off a store and getting away with this means working together. In this we are a unity. Each one of us needs to know exactly what the other one is thinking or doing. Open one of the coolers and take out a bottle of soda. Slash runs his fingers over the liquor bottles on the shelf. The guy behind the counter is still watching us with a frown.

Slash looks at me questioning and I slightly nod. Not so much that anyone but Slash would notice.
Then I trash the bottle of soda, playing to be totally surprised.ý