Thursday, July 07, 2005

April 1969

-Hey, Groove. Axel. Crow. Kit. Em. Sup?
-Hey, Bick. Shit, close the door.
-Sorry. Brought some Heinekin. Mateus. Oh, and wheatstraws.
-Far out. Hey, keep the papers. Flipper got his water pipe back.
-Cool. I'll put a little wine in. I see you copped.
-Yeah, that chick over at Pickwick Hall. What's her name. Red hair. Tall.
-Oh, Julie. Whoa. She selling?
-Yeah, it's Lonnie's stash, she's crashing with him now.
-This week, anyway.
-She was all over you a few weeks ago.
-Ended badly. My chick walked in. She has my key. Grope, click, eek, there she was.
-Holy shit. You two break up?
-I wish. Naw. Julie was out to lunch, next thing you know she's in the hall with her clothes in her arms. Won't talk to me now. Lara cried for any hour, then it was as if nothing had happened.
-Just as well. That Julie's bad news.
-Drop-dead gorgeous, though.
-No lie, man. Hey, this shit's half seeds and twigs.
MUSIC. Doodle doodle doo.
-That's weird. What is it?
-Rite of Spring. Some classical shit. Got it from the library.
-Yeah. Very weird. Turn it up. Want a hit?
-Right. Ohh. Man. Mmf. Sigh. Good, though. Oh. Very good.
-I'm blitzed already.
-Anybody heard the new Rolling Stones?
-Give it a rest, Kitty. The Stones suck.
-Aw, man. Naw, they're cool. Have another toke.
-Fffft. Erk. Ah. Wow. Anybody got a bottle opener?
-What? Ha, ha, ha. No way, man.
-I got one in my room. If I can find my way back.
-Ha, ha. Three to one against, man, taking bets.
-I'll just run up.
-The dorm supervisor's out again playing secret police. Better be careful.
-Fuck him. Straight arrow. He busted into my room last weekend, we're all blowing weed, he's stalking around, know what he's looking for?
-What, man?
-Booze. Know what he finally busts us for?
-Ha.
-Having chicks in the room. The whole time Wolf's smiling and nodding and smoking a big fat jay. Super just knows something's going on, something bad, but he can't figure out what it is. He just gets more and more pissed off, finally throws the chicks out, storms off. Girls come back five minutes later.
-Ha, ha, ha, I'm dying. What a shithead.
-What's up with Em?
-She's just spaced out. Hasn't said a word for an hour. She's been grooving on that Escher book.
-Oh, yeah. Shit, the pipe went out. Got a match?
-I think it's burned out.
-I'm hungry.
-I got a buck. Anybody else? we can order pizza.
-Weird music.
-Oh, yeah.
MUSIC: WHOMP! Pause. WHOMP!
-JESUS!! What the hell?
MUSIC: WHOMP!
-My GOD.
-That's classical? Scared the sh---