So here is a book my friend, Josh, and I recently started to work on. As you all know I'm not too good with my grammar and Josh is quite an excellent writer.
Thanks for reading... please vote, it would mean so much to us -Josh and Edgar
Intro : Wake and Bake
An alarm clock rings. Jack turns in his bed, slamming his hand down on the snooze button. He let out a groan. "Fuck, man." He didn't even know why he had an alarm; he didn't have a job or a place to be. Then he remembered rule number two hundred fifty six in the Kush Code "When one wakes it is time to bake." He sat up on his bed looking at his alarm clock he noticed it was ten o'clock in the morning. He shrugged he didn't care much about what time it was. He was a carefree kind of guy. He stood up from his bed and walked over to his closet. It had a silver framed mirror that slid open. He stood before the mirror for a minute, analyzing himself before he slid it open. He had long, shoulder length, pitch black hair that made his pale skin pop out. His eyes where a dark brown color and he had thin body frame yet his muscles defined and toned.
"What to wear?" he mumbled to himself. He fumbled through his closet until he pulled out a black t-shirt with Rob Zombie on it. An act he would later find out to carry incredible irony. He grabbed some black jeans, boxers, socks, and some black and white chucks. He walked into the kitchen and brought down a box of cereal. Then, he went to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet, or as he and his roommate, Derrick, called it, the Mini Lab. It was filled with rows of different colored canisters all labeled "medicinal cannabis" which all contained a different name for its strain. He rummaged through the cabinet until he took out a transparent green canister. The label read "OG WHITE WIDOW." He squeezed the sides, popping open the canister and releasing the smell of grade-A cannabis into his nostrils. "I'm ready for a sting." he said excitedly as he walked back through the small corridor heading to his bedroom to retrieving his glass pipe from his drawer and his cell phone, then quickly continuing in the same direction. On the wall there was a portrait of Bob Marley playing soccer. Farther down the corridor on the other side of the bathroom door before Derrick's room was another portrait, but this was an animated painting of Cheech and Chong with an exaggeratingly large joint.
He placed his phone on the toilet along with his clothes. He put on some Pink Floyd and jumped into the shower. As he showered, he packed his pipe with the bud and took big hits, keeping it lit while using his other hand to scrub himself. If someone were to ask Jack, this was his favorite multi-tasking activity he engaged in, but then again, so was anything else that included smoking cannabis. Once he was finished showering, he dressed and came back out into the kitchen, where he became excited to see a pizza box sitting on the counter. When he practically lunged himself at the box he was disappointed by the sight of its non-existing contents. "Right" he thought. "Me and Derrick got high as fuck last night." he thought again. Just like every night. His stomach started to rumble. The munchies were getting to him. He needed something to distract him from his hunger. He needed to wait for Derrick to come back. He noticed Derrick had left because the shower had been recently used. He was probably suffering from the munchies too. Derrick would not forget to bring Jack some as well; at least that was his hope. Meanwhile, Jack played some Xbox, but not before taking a hit out of the bong.
He woke up sweaty and red in the face. Must've been that nightmare again, haunting his dreams. The one with the feeling of being chased. He swore under his breath and got up slowly, his bones aching from his stoned slumber. He looked at the clock and shrugged. Three in the afternoon. Not too shabby. Then it hit him. The eerie silence. "It's never been this quiet before," he thought to himself. "Derrick should've been back by now." He moved slowly and warily through the house towards Derrick's room. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and his palms became clammy. "I'm going to need a joint after this shit." Suddenly, he stopped. He heard a faint squeaking and muffled sounds. Nervously, Jack continued through the dark hallway, cursing to himself about not turning on the hallway light. The sounds grew louder as he approached and soon he found himself at Derrick's door. There was a light protruding through the crack of the door. Jack slowly opened the door, speaking weakly, "Derrick, man. What the fuck..." He stopped in mid-sentence as he could not believe what he was seeing, nor would he ever want to.
"I said I'm sorry, man. I didn't know you were gonna wake up!" Derrick sighed, still flustered and sweaty, his long curly dark brown hair partially plastered to his forehead. He rubbed his eyes and began walking after Jack. Jack rolled his eyes and sat on the couch. "I've told you before, man. If you're going to bring a chick over, make sure I'm not in the house. It's common fucking courtesy," said Jack. "Oh, c'mon Jack," Derrick said, pleadingly. "I think you're overreacting. I mean, you saw me banging someone. Big fucking deal." Removing his red and black flannel revealing a gray muscle shirt he wore underneath and letting himself lazily fall onto the couch next to Jack. Jack ignored him and took out some zigzags. "Look, how about the next time I bring a girl over because most likely I will, I'll have her bring a friend for you? How does that sound?" Jack continued working on his joint and said to Derrick, "Well, I guess that's all right," while Derrick intently watched for a reaction or at least some type of facial expression, his brown eyes holding his stare. This was something that Derrick was used to after having been roommates with Jack for several years. Sometimes Jack took an eternity to completely analyze something. He took his time to think things through; he wanted to make sure he meant what he said. When he finally finished rolling his joint, Jack turned and gave Derrick one of his signature wide toothy grins. Derrick chuckled lightly while shaking his head and said, "There we go, man! I knew you couldn't stay mad at me. Now how about we try this new strain I got? They say it's the best stuff this side of the world." "Sounds like a plan, Stan the man," Jack laughed. They rolled up their joints and took to some Xbox. Jack and Derrick. Two best friends, two roommates, two people who will undergo an experience like no other. It's going to be a long, strange trip...
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