Full crew here at Team Organic's headquarters in the seedy "bonfire" neighborhood of 28th and S.E. Stark. There are 3 intense men circling a too small dining room table. Occasionally, they curse under their breath as they write, hunched over their work like jewelers with bad eyes. There is a couch pulled out from the wall to make room for a 4' x 6' dry erase board full of esoteric stick drawings, with C's and OH's and Br's. It could be a football play, a bank job, or even a hit.
We lost half of the internees around midnight -- leaving Big Chocolate, Captain America, Doc Ock, and me behind.
You know, Bromine is more selective. You do know that don't you. You better... and remember it too.
By all rights there should be a haze of smoke in the air, and bags of drugs somewhere, maybe shoulder holsters on the big guys at the table -- for the intensity of the scene here. At least there aught to be multiple sports games playing on radios around the room, and a bookie cage in the corner with nervous gamblers smoking outside of it.
There is an organic chemistry exam tomorrow. The teacher has openly stated that he's going to "make this one harder" than the first one. We're nervous. We're cornered. There are chemicals on sticks everywhere.
If you knock on the door, use the code.
Enjoy your school-free life,
Bp
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5 comments:
haha! This was a brilliant read!
You must tell us how the "hit" went.
I'll report in. It goes down in less than an hour, a driver is going to pick me up in 20.
/prepares ski mask
Yup--sounds like the old days to me...just readiing it awakens the stomach ache that bloomed when I took comps.
No pain, no gain...for the sane. Insane? here's to the fumes that stick, mom
LOL, good luck to you.
tyty
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