Who: Death, Marijuana, Dave Henderson. Where: Central Park When: Evening Warnings: Drug use, language, a confused Dave and a rather cruel Marijuana.
When Death had offered to speak to Dave about the Christian God and His Heaven, Marijuana couldn't help be wary at first. Dave had gone through quite a bit in the past few months. He'd witnessed his friend, boss and lover pull away from him for the sake of all his 'siblings', had to watch as his boss died yet again, had to try and make sense of the fact that Greeks existed, that God existed, that his boss was the god of a drug. The heroin wasn't helping much either.
But Marijuana had set a time and place with Death, somewhere both he and Dave would be comfortable, and explained to his second in command exactly who they were meeting. Dave was terrified at first, especially after insulting the 'skeleton dude', but with Marijuana around, he knew he couldn't be harmed. After the day's work was done, the drug runners free for the night, the till counted and the shop tidy, they set out to Central Park.
Death would find them there, Dave seated on a bench with his legs spread out in front of him, joint in his hand and a smile on his face as Marijuana stood above him in the middle of a rather hilarious story. "You know that part in Up in Smoke where Chong inhales the roach? He so got that from me." Dave, to his credit, was blossoming under such one-on-one attention and began to laugh, smoke trickling out of his mouth and worship in his eyes. "You toked with Chong man? That is so fucking sweet." But even through the smile, even through the worship, that eternally confused look stayed on his face and he scratched at his arms every now and then even as he lifted the joint to his lips again.