Celebrity Skin

“Dude, I haven’t done this in years.” Zack smiled, passing the blunt to Jimmy, who sat comfortably in the front seat of Brian’s black SUV.
“That’s ‘cause we all got our own houses and didn’t need too, anymore.” Brian pointed out, flipping on his blinker.

Jimmy and Zack, who were hell bent on cheering up their forlorn friend, decided to drag Brian out of his house for a Blunt Ride. Yes, a blunt ride. For those of you who don’t understand, a blunt is like a joint, but better. While smoking a joint, you need to take quick hits, because the paper burns out quickly. With blunts, you roll the marijuana into cigar paper, or a Dutch, for a longer, and all around better, smoking experience. A blunt ride is driving around randomly while smoking.

“So why are we? Dude, if a cop pulls me over, I will kill one of you.” Brian threatened.
“Shut up and smoke up.” Jimmy commanded, passing him the blunt while singing ‘smoke up, smoke up’.

Brian cracked a smile as he took a long pull, holding in his breath and letting the drug take effect. He finally exhaled, coughing slightly as he passed the blunt back to Zack. This went on for another 10 minutes before the weed finally took full effect.

“If I ever got a duck, I’d name it stallion. Stallion Duck!” Jimmy stated matter-of-factly.
“Why?” Zack choked out, him and Brian both laughing.
“Because it would be the stallion of all ducks!” Jimmy explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
The men just laughed as they continued to drive around.
“World, I’m coming for you! Yea, You, Guy in the green! I’m coming for you, too! Oh, especially you! Yea, I’m talking to you!” Jimmy screamed out of the window.

The guys continued to laugh at Jimmy’s antics until he had to leave. Apparently he had to take Leanna somewhere to get something. In their altered state of mind, they couldn’t tell what he was talking about. Brian dropped the two off at their houses, and made his way back home. The weed was hitting him pretty hard, considering he hadn’t smoked in a long time. Michelle was always against it, and didn’t want him smoking. Brian didn’t know how she could hate it so much when her sister, Val, was a pothead herself. Regardless, he loved her, so he stopped. Actually, he stopped a lot of things for her. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how much he actually gave up, while she gave up nothing in return. He got played.

All the things running through his head made him tired. Once he got home, he discarded his pants and shirt and decided on taking a nap. The drugs in his system knocked him out cold within 5 minutes.

A few hours later, Brian stretched his arms and legs out, successfully getting out all the kinks he acquired while sleeping. Glancing at the clock, he realized it was quarter to 4 in the afternoon; band practice today starts at 430 in L.A.. It’d take him 45 minutes to get there, without traffic, which meant he had to leave pronto.

Throwing the covers over him, he made a mad dash to his dresser and pulled on the first pair of pants he found. He grabbed a random T-shirt off the floor and brought it to his nose, making sure it smelt half way decent. He pulled it over his head, slipped on his shoes and grabbed his keys. Brian threw his car into reverse and sped down the PCH, hoping to make it on time. Matt had a tendency to flip his shit when someone was late, which in turn threw off everyone’s vibes.

He sped down the road, clocking in at 90 MPH in a 65 zone, and successfully got the attention of cop parked off to the side monitoring traffic. The officer quickly pulled out of his spot, turning on his sirens and chasing down Brian’s car.

“Fuck!” Brian swore loudly, pulling into a clearing off the highway.

The officer pulled up behind him and stepped out of the car, casually strolling over to the passenger side window as to not get hit by any cars. Brian rolled down his window.

“Hi officer, how can I help you?” He asked as politely as he could. Personally, he had never liked police, but was taught to be polite.
“Sir, were you aware how fast you were going?” The officer asked, tilting his head up to look down his nose at the heavily tattooed driver.
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry about that, I’m running a little late for band practice. You may have heard of us, Avenged Sevenfold?” Brian smiled, hoping to get himself out of this situation.
“Never heard of you.” The cop mumbled. “Regardless, you were knowingly going 25 miles of the speed limit? You could have severely hurt someone, or yourself.” He glared at Brian. “License and registration, please.”

Brian sighed and opened his glove compartment, immediately regretting it.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the vehicle, and please keep you’re hands where I can see them.” The policeman ordered.
Brian smacked his forehead against the steering wheel. He was going to kill Jimmy. He stepped out of the car carefully and made his way to the opposite side of the car, where the policeman was standing.
“Please put you’re hands on the hood of you’re car, sir.” He ordered.

Brian obliged, and watched as the cop opened the passenger side door and reached into his glove compartment. He pulled out a sack filled with marijuana, that had to be at least an ounce and a half worth, accompanied by a tiny baggie of coke that sat in the sack.

“Well, well, well.” The officer stated. “Band practice, huh? Fucking druggies.”
“Sir, it’s not mine.” Brian tried explaining.
“Oh, I’m sure.” The cop patronized. “It’s you’re friends, who just conveniently left it in you’re car, right?” He rolled his eyes.
Brian just hung his head; he knew how that sounded.
“Please put you’re hands behind you’re back, sir.”

Brian once again obliged; he’d been through this once or twice before, but never for drug possession.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to talk to a lawyer and have him present with you while you are being questioned. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense.”

Now not only was he late for band practice, he was being arrested; Matt’s going to have a fucking field day.