If Marc Emery is the Prince of Pot, I'm the King! (upinsmoke) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-08-25 18:55:00 |
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Entry tags: | democratic party, marijuana |
Who: Marijuana, the Democratic Party, and the Marijuana Party.
What: 'Family' dinner. Mark and MJ trying to play nice for the kid's sake.
Where: Thomas' apartment, across from the Highway.
When: Tuesday evening.
Warnings: Drug use, language.
Cooking dinner for Mark of all people hadn't exactly been on Marijuana's priority list. In fact, he would rather be spending his time doing anything else. But cooking with Tommy had turned out to be fun; a good bonding experience especially as his son seemed slightly enthused by the prospect of this dinner and by the idea that they were cooking for his other father. They had smoked a joint, turned on the CD that Heroin had purchased for Tommy and by the time 'I'm Waiting For The Man' began to play, there were noodles set to boil and sauce bubbling away on one of the elements. It was a simple dinner, a stoner's comfort dinner, really, just spaghetti and garlic bread and by the time the garlic bread had been placed in the oven, 'Heroin' was playing and Marijuana had to excuse himself to use Tommy's bathroom as a place to shoot up. Coming back as the song changed, Mariuana grinned at his son as he began to set the table, Tommy smiling back anxiously as he worried about his parents together in the same room.
It didn't seem like they got along very well, when Father had dropped him off, it didn't even seem like they could stand to be in the same room together but Tommy wanted to change that. At the very least, he wanted to have his parents be able to tolerate each other's presence and at the most... well, as Marijuana asked lightly if Tommy wanted to be involved in planning some of the wedding, the god-child pushed those thoughts from his head and nodded tentatively, wanting to be included if he was welcome. Marijuana smiled tentatively back and reached up hesitantly to ruffle Tommy's hair lightly as they set out the last of the plates. Tommy liked the gesture, somewhat, but they both were distracted by Marijuana's cell phone as the sound of Disturbed's 'Want', Wes' ringtone, mixed with Velvet Underground's 'European Son'.
Flipping the phone open quickly, Marijuana exchanged a few short words with the bodyguard who was waiting downstairs to escort Mark up before disconnecting and trying to hide just out tense he was as he grinned at his son. "Your father's on his way up. Want to help me get the food on the plates?" The door was left ajar, Wes was under strict orders to drop Mark off and then remain in the hallway and as the CD winded down and the two gods began spooning spaghetti onto the plates, Marijuana sighed lightly and wished he could sneak off to shoot up again.
He would need to be as high as possible to get through this.