sixwordstories | (no subject)

Current Mood: bitchy

(no subject)

Damn it, Mason, quit throwing up.

It's not like I can help it!

You see, that's where you're wrong. If you didn't do so many fucking drugs, well, then you wouldn't be puking all over my living room. Except for the pot I gave you to puke, no, that you left clean.

Its not the drugs, its the bloody alcohol! Shows how much you know. *He groans pathetically*

*rolls eyes* Alcohol is a drug, Mason, just like any other. It just happens to be legal here.

He was lying anyway. Of course it was the drugs. He had tried smuggling cocaine. In his rectum. It seemed like a brilliant idea at the time. Until the bag broke filling his entire system with the drug. His body shook slightly. "Its fucking cold in here." Yet he was sweating.

Rube was running out of patience. (http://didnt-reapjesus.livejournal.com/817.html)

Mason- he the bloke grumbling about a hang over?

Most likely, yes, that would be the fuck-up.

And you're what, his boss or summit?

Something like that, yes.

Must be hard to get any work out of him, what with the vomiting and all.

You have no idea. If he'd ever quit the drugs, he could be something, but that'll never happen.

Not til they kill him, huh?

Um....yes. Sure.

*eyes narrow*

You know you're not the world's best liar, right?

And you know better than to push a pissed off old man, right?

Thought so.

*mutters something indistinguishable about grump bastards*

i should apologize. Pushing people a bit too far's a habit of mine.

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