Acid Rain: Part II

I awoke Sunday morning with a heavy head, still dizzy from the inumerable pints of "Red 8 Ale", a microbrewed favorite, courtesy of the Mackinaw Brewing Pub. Taking a deep breath, I choked on the short wind, a detrimental effect of an expensive habit I was a slave to, but enjoyed thoroughly, and got myself ready to attack the day.

I squinted my eyes to the vibrant late summer morning sun as I climbed into the cramped cab of my "gently used" Toyota truck. Scanning through the tracks of the CD in my dash, I finally settled on a suitable, non-descript song and headed towards my place of temporary employment.

I arrived at the beer store, flicked on the "open" sign and took my post on the wooden bar stool behind the counter and settled in for a long day.

"We'll come see you at the store about 2" Anthony said over the phone with an air of excitement.

"You sure you're ready for this shit, Dude?" I asked him with a tone of uncertainty. You couldn't sell me on the the path he was about to take.

"Haha, yep. Bird and I are going to drop it in about a half hour....should be starting to feel it a little when we come see you."

"Good luck" I said through a chuckle and hung up.

After what seemed like mere minutes, I removed my glazed eyes from the small tv and raised my aching head off the heel of my hand to see two familiar faces came through the fully beer-advertisement-adorned glass door.

"Well?" I asked with skepticism.

"We ate 2 hits each off a Jolly Rancher about an hour ago" Anthony answered. "Things are just starting to get weird."

He had no idea.