allamericanboy (![]() ![]() @ 2009-08-16 01:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | democratic party, marijuana |
Who: Mark, Marijuana, and the Marijuana Party + other NPCs
What: Homecoming Pt II: How to be the the world's worst father
When: Sunday evening
Where: The Highway
Warnings: Language
Mark didn't just wander down to the Highway for a lark. In fact, Mark didn't normally wander down to the Highway at all, if he could avoid it. He enjoyed his verbal sparring with Marijuana so long as they were on opposite ends of the city and found that it was best for the both of them that they kept it this way. Everyone stayed alive, no one was injured, and everyone was better off for it. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been down to Marijuana's store in person, and certainly not with several persons traveling behind him. It was a ragtag little entourage.
There was Malcolm, his son, with his dreads pulled back into a messy ponytail, wearing a black shirt and black pants tucked into black boots. It was ninety-five degrees outside. Mark supposed it was just lucky he wasn't carrying his gun. There was another as well, Thomas Reed who seemed overwhelmed and had said no more than five full sentences after he and Mark had stared at each other for a moment or two and Mark had said, "Fuck," followed by a muttered. "We're going to see Marijuana right-the-fuck-now." There was no 'hello, how are you'. No, 'I think you might be my son, I'm sorry for the confusion'. Mark had never been the best of parents, but this one really did take the cake. It was left to Malcolm to explain to Thomas that Mark probably thought Marijuana would be able to explain, because it was obvious that Mark had no idea that at some point he'd had another kid. Malcolm was tagging along, he claimed, because he'd busted his piece and wanted to buy a new one. Mark knew he just wanted to watch the show, but didn't really care.
Mark jerked open the door to the Highway and it was almost a relief to see Marijuana sitting at the front desk with one of his mortals. He passed a look back to Thomas and knew immediately that he'd done the right thing. If this had been an episode of Maury he might have expected to heard the words, "you areā¦ not the father" coming moments later. Malcolm had to have been wrong. There was no mistaking that Thomas was the Marijuana Party in the flesh, but Mark couldn't had fathered him, and certainly not with Marijuana himself. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been to the Highway, much less the last the two of them had shared so much as even a handshake. Wasn't there contact required in having a child?
Still, looking at the kid, Mark found himself thinking that it felt much like looking at Johnny and Malcolm. But that didn't preclude the fact that he'd never touched Marijuana or thought of the other God in that way. He'd slept with Malcolm's mother, and Johnny had risen from a love and desire for the land and his freedom. There was no intrinsic connection he shared with the Drug God. They couldn't even agree on policy.
So why did the damn kid feel like his?
For his part, Thomas seemed to stand a little straighter in the presence of Marijuana. That was a good sign. He still seemed nervous (he was only four months old, Malcolm had said) but Mark could only assume he felt somewhat comfortable surrounded by a store filled with weed.
Mark sighed and turned away from Thomas, instead staring straight at Marijuana. He jerked his finger back at the young political god and said, simply, "Explain."