Prison Vibes Episode 1

So one day hitherto, this gangsta of a mother fucker named Bones robbed a well reknown crack dealer in Okeechobee, Florida for over $16,000 in crack and $10,000 in cash.

With a ragged ole tabby housecat.

Yeah, that's right.

A cat

It was a hell of a hot ass day down South Florida where the mosquitios are prehistoric pterodactyls and the birds are Schweizer choppers loaded up with them ole county boys

and lead.

We didn't know what to do, the well ran dry sometime last night. And by well i meen our pockets. Not everyday you run through three one thousand dollar scratch offs

in a row but that day was a day of splurging no man should venture into, record, or live without experiencing. Hungover and hungry we decided that waffles where

healthier then crack.

As if!

Fourty dollars was all we had and i owned thirty five of them.

"Get the fuck in the ride, no crackhead shit before i get a fuckin belguim waffle" were my only words, and off we went.

As i parked the piece of shit '97 Buick dubbed Swamp Ass Express provocably named for its obnoxious swamp green color.

I could hear those wretched dominos smacking like fat lips on bare ass peanut butter.

The locals that tended to congregate out front seemed unphased as we made our way to the door.

Well... I made my way to the door.. Bones had his five on him and like clockwork as i opened the door i heard on the loudcom speakers

was "I got five on it" and that's all it took for the crackhead to burst forth from the eternal pookie inside his soul which caused his eyes to twitch side to side

capularties poping and all.

and like that, there went the waffles.

Fuckin baser.

He did a backspin door-slap kinda move and dove into the parking lot.

I stood at the door because i already knew.

Two things in the crackheads life that are guaranteed are crack and cops.

And this baser gonna smoke.

Nothing will stop that.

I watched on with gusto for as in the bright of day,grocery bag in hand

door to car door checking each door handle as he acted like he was picking up trash in the parking lot.

Genius.

Using the grocery bag for trash and not a glove to avoid evidence.

Dumbass.

Either way, into the lot pulled the man of the hour.

Bones knew before i did. Maybe he smelled brillo or the ammonia fumes approaching.

Maybe he has a baser power that links him directly to all the crack ever made.

With a quick hop skip and a backflip this baser was at the mans door.

With the five in his hand like a child at the local icecream truck begging for a rocket pop.

In this case it was a crack pop..

Lunch money will make your children crackheads people!

Who knew?

Anyways all i heard is 'Told you before bruh i ain't makin no five dolla hollas fuck off till ya fundings right"

Bones face went from crack to slack. His money was money just as the next mother fuckers was.

And He's gotta smoke.

The Lincoln pulled forward leaving Bones, mouth gaping.

Staring right at me.

I felt his eyes as they burned a hole in my pocket,the money being pulled by tractor beam to his hands.

He was by my side in under a second.

Fast crackhead indeed.

"Lets go in on a session Ducky." he said

"I got five on it i swear it is all there one solid five dollar bill!"

"I just gotta smoke."

"Don't you gotta smoke?"

"Why are we not flicking these lighters yet?"

"I GOTTA SMOKE"

So much for waffles...

I gave him the thirty five.

And as lightning returned.

Crack in hand, stem loaded, lighter flicking.

Passed me up completely as he took a B-line for the restrooms.

I followed suite quickly as i could. Half awake i wasn't going to miss out on this.

Fucking baser had my crack.

Into the handicapped stall we huddled like bums to a burning barrel.

Well in retrospect we where the bums and the stem was a burning barrel.

The crack lasted maybe fourty hits.

Thats a dollar a pop. Not bad for a days buzz. As if an hour were a day.

Like all good things in life that tend to end.

We ran out..

Back to stage one...

I kicked Bones in the side and told him to get off the ground, this is not time or place to fiend or crawl.

He ignored me as i decided to leave.

I squeezd out of the claustrophobicly tight stall and stood face to face with the ugliest kid in Florida who happened to be hopeful to get in on the iron.

He had a dumb ass grin all lopsided.

I told him that 'Rape was a felony and not to get to trigger happy in the mens room.'

As i exited the premises a hot car nap felt like my only future because Bones was stuck in doodoo land tasting and smoking restroom debries.

As they say "you never know?"

No.. in his words "Who knew?

Yes as he is a crackhead supreme he "shoulda known".

You can remove the brain from said crack head, but said crackstar can not be removed from thou mentality.

Onward was what my mind had set as its due course, now that i was officially broke and starved.

Started car, shifted to reverse, checked mirrors..

Crackheads are closer then they appear.

Bones violently apeared in the buick.

Well, more of half in and half out of the window of the buick.

With the rabid foam of a thousand ole yellers around his lips.

Jibberishly jabbering some foreign language that sounded like a thousand crackrocks in a pickle jar. Mandarin?

"Xia xixi phe xi ping xhoi" was all i remebered from that moment in time.

So i did what any true friend would do.

I slapped the shit out of him.

Stunned from the blow he stopped and looked me dead in my eyes and said " I am about to rewrite history."

This Mother Fucker.....

He directed me to block the nearby dumpster with the bumper of the buick and to not let anyone in or out.

Now i am an accessory to blocking a dumpster full of crackheads and cats.

I was not startled as the first cat flew from the top of the fence.

Some were thrown most were flung and all were flea'd.

Then i heard it.

Sounded like a thousand roaring lions.

Rivaled the screem of a F-18 at takeoff.

I backed the buick up to preserve my ride from damage as the gates bursted forth.

Lo and behold, Bones was equiped with a Chupacabra

He Resembled Prince Adam going He-Man as he locked in on his target, the Skeletor of Greyskull, Lincoln Navigator

The reels in his brain had hit tripple seven.

with the tail of the cat firmly gripped and the neck tightly restricted the cat could not squirm or fight back

i watched as he charged full speed ahead cat thrust forward directly into the Lincoln Navigators open driver window.

He flexed the cat like an accordian which caused it to spasm in fury.

A Spitting and hissing ball of orange death.

The cat was quickly replaced by 4 crown royal bags, a backpack, and a storm of flung cash.

I gassed the buick as Bones lept onto the hood.

He had the most idiotic grin on his face the entire escape.

Five miles down the road I pulled into a hidden dirt path.

Bones rolled off of my ride and landed in the passenger seat.

Ding Ding Ding Crackpot!!!

Sixteen thousand cash and twelve zips of crack and ice, we rejoiced as crackheads do when the irons hot.

and thus I took my share and left the area and never returned.

Okeechobee stunk like there was no future for me there.

Plus, like those cats use steroids out there.