Who: Marijuana and Cocaine What: The beginning of Coke and MJ's Excellent Adventure When: Friday evening, 5:30 Where: Diner in Queens Warnings: Probably
Coke liked hole in the wall diners. It tended to surprise people when he asked them to dinner and he took them to a greasy spoon with no more than burgers and fries on the menu. Yes, of course he had his standards and he kept Die Droge up to them, but when it came to leaving his place of business, he didn't hate interacting with the general public. After all, there were cocaine addicts everywhere. Whether it was pure Colombian or crack, Coke didn't have to be picky about where he was finding them. It was one of the benefits of being one of the four- you never wanted for company or power.
The girl sitting behind him kept twitching her nose, unknowingly being forced to desire something that she couldn't have in public. Coke sipped his cola and snickered as he skimmed the menu, which was equally as greasy as the joint itself. He wouldn't order until his brother arrived, but that was fine. He had the coke user behind him to keep him entertained until Marijuana walked in. Why couldn't stoners ever be punctual or, better yet, early? Coke, a being constantly buzzing with extra energy, simply didn't understand the concept of being 'lazy' or 'unmotivated'. The words felt weird on his tongue.
It was only after the girl had gotten up to excuse herself for a hit in the filthy diner bathroom that Coke noted the shadow falling over the booth for two. He slowly folded his menu, placed it on the table, and looked up. "Took you long enough," he said, repeating his first words from the night before to his brother, Marijuana.
"There's a good bacon cheese-burger here, but you're going to want it with the sauteed onions," Coke said idly while waiting for Marijuana to sit. He reached into the plain looking messenger style bag sitting on the cushion next to him and pulled out a stuffed manila folder to set down on the table between them. "But before you order, look at these. This way you'll know before the meal whether or not you're going to lose your appetite. Like I said, we have a problem." It wasn't strong enough a word in Coke's mind. The situation developing at the US/Mexican border was fast becoming an impediment upon his business, and he could only assume that Marijuana was experiencing the same thing, even if he was loathe to admit it.
Coke gestured to the folder again, urging Marijuana to look at the contents inside. Didn't everyone enjoy looking at pictures of disemboweled cartel members before dinner?