A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Wasteland

Hey I wrote this for my drama class. I was supposed to write a play review but I was bored and at that time determined to write something fun and creative. Enjoy :dance:
We were somewhere in downtown Raleigh when the mescaline began to kick in. My driver, a western European immigrant with arms like cannons, was screaming to the heinous lyrics only produced by the likes of those iron clad, drowned in leather, heavy metal German bands. He too seemed to be in some sort of drug induced haze that left nothing but a strange vengeful look upon his face and a burning fire in his eye, usually only seen in the eyes of some sort of wild beast. As I began to cower in the dusty velvet bucket seats of the Firebird, I then started to realize and pick up on the steadily growing amount of movement in the backseat. Was I crazy, or was the mescaline finally beginning to take full effect? I reached out to the back seat, still cowering in my own, and slammed down hard, only to have my hand sink low into what seemed to be quicksand. I began to frantically shake and scream, "What the hell?! Goddamn you, you sneaky Russian! You've tricked me! You've stolen my hand!"
My hand was then released, and the mescaline seemed to have worn off just long enough let my brain think through the events that just occurred. My brain was working at half, no a third of its speed and comprehending conversations was nearly impossible. When I realized what had finally happened I felt calm once again, just like the I had the two hours before I had gotten mixed up in all this mess. The blurred bolder in the back, which was once impossible to identify, was now clear, and when my mind allowed the words to drip from my tongue I proclaimed, "Qais! My god, how long have you been with us? Why the hell are you with us? "
Then I quickly came to my senses and my brain yet again allowed me to cognate some thing, there must have been a reason why Qais was with us for he doesn't leave his house for anything less than twenty dollars and a sandwich. But right as I was about to connect these pieces and come up with a momentous idea, our driver flew the bird over a concrete structure in the road and into what seemed to be a vast wasteland of tarmac and white lines. I would have been content with the tarmac alone but the white lines were as violent as ever. We were clearly outnumbered and cornered by these relentless white monsters I decided to surrender in hopes that my life would be spared and along with it the life of the Firebird which had taken us so far. As I opened the door I lost all control over my my legs and my torso plummeted towards the tarmac. As the pain slowly started engulfing my body so did kind heat of the ever loving tarmac. No later than raising my head did I realize the fleet of small white lines surrounding now the car and I. The amount of fear that I was now entrapped with was now almost painful, so painful that the steadily speeding heartbeats became louder than the great blue Bird itself. The once kind heat of the tarmac was now burning my pale teenaged skin. As my senses started to be drained out of my body do did the energy and simply put I blacked out. Dead, lying harmlessly on the tarmac, my body began to burn and for the next hour and a half it continued in this painful activity.
When I was awoken by my large associate Qais the car was now in a parking space and it appeared that he was no longer under the control of the drug, however I was still high as a kite. As he pulled me to my feet I was greeted by the sweet smell of fresh cut grass and the site of a fresh cut lawn, which to me looked like a great green monster. Qais began talking to my face but all I could pay attention to was the savage way the fat on his face swung back and forth almost trying to harm someone. After his mouth stopped moving he jolted his mass of an arm out and his finger shot forth and commanded my eyes to look upon Legget Theater and the large brick structure it was imprisoned within.
The next thing I remember I was being led by my two companions to the grand entrance of the Legget theater. Apparently to my great surprise it took them ten minutes to get me up the stairs which at that point I had confused for the mouth of a dragon or some type of any other large lizard like beast. When we arrived at the top of the dragons mouth we were greeted by two smug beings which appeared to be guarding some type of treasure behind two white doors of immense proportions. Roman being the sneaky Russian I always knew he was traded me over to the guards for no more than a measly sixteen dollars. As soon as the money was put into the hands of those smug faces the atmosphere in the room changed completely. Small paper books and pamphlets of some sort were now being thrust towards my face. At first I was scared and inquisitive as to why I needed these and why they wanted me to take them but than I again realized the immense amount of white that surrounded me and engulfed the room clearly showing these smug people had sided with the cruel and mischevious white lines which I had run into only a dew hours before. I quickly grabbed the paper and not long after that did I step into the infamous Legget Theater. Although still under mescaline's tight grip I was still able to acknowledge the fact that the even which was to occur had not started yet. In theory I was early.
I fell in a seat somewhere between the front and the back of the theater. With nothing to do and still high as a kite I decided to read the white stapled clump of papers they had told me was a program. Without the artwork it read "Miss Jullie". The artwork was starting to jump off of the page so I decided to put it down. It seemed as though my companions had left me in this place, alone to fiend for myself and with that said I was not about to take my chances with seemingly volatile artwork.
My neck gave way as the mescaline started to kick i again. My eyes grew wide as I the plethora of lights that engulf the entire ceiling of the theater. At any given moment the light fixtures could fall and kill me so I wrapped my arms around my numb head.
About thirty or forty minutes later the lights went low and three people began to walk onto what appeared to be the stage. One male dressed in a bow tie and some sort of half suit and two women in dresses. At this point I believe the mescaline had worn off because now everything felt normal and I was no longer hallucinating. It was 2:05PM and officially the latest it had ever been in the history of the world. The play continued on as the male character who was played by Adam Twiss began to try and seduce the Julie character who was played by Jessica Kaye. As I began to analyze the whole story I realized the situation; a poor man has sex with his master's daughter and wants to run away with her but cant because not only does he have a wife but the woman does not, in the end want to leave with him. Thus the play, in my opinion, was a very dry and boring way to show how different the upper and lower classes are.
The acting was not to my liking but only because they were too emotional and emotion seems to be all we ever get in this plain world we live in today. There wasn't much to the stage which didn't seem to affect much but there was only one setting which made the play seem too short and too boring. From the look of it however it seems as though Peace had spent about $50,000 easily on the light fixtures alone, which is a shame as they did not use them much.
The play was boring and probably the biggest waste of sixteen dollars since the Anti sliced bread. Afterwards I exited quickly and waited outside. I tried calling Roman and Qias but as I thought they did not answer the phone and alas I was without a ride home. After hitchhiking a three mile distance I was home to enjoy the warm comforts of my bed and a nice big glass of cheer-wine.

PS- Mr. Hagen, everything is true except anything involving drugs, Qais, or Roman. But i did see the play.

Man, I could of sworn I've read something like this before....:confused:

OH YEAH! It was Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas....how dare you blaspemize the good doctors name with such a hack job.

[QUOTE=mecha0man]Man, I could of sworn I've read something like this before....:confused:

OH YEAH! It was Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas....how dare you blaspemize the good doctors name with such a hack job. At least Dr. Thompson's piece had some political and social points to make, yours is just a rambling about some dopes...on dope.

[QUOTE=mecha0man]

Quote:

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Originally Posted by mecha0man

Man, I could of sworn I've read something like this before....:confused:

OH YEAH! It was Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas....how dare you blaspemize the good doctors name with such a hack job. At least Dr. Thompson's piece had some political and social points to make, yours is just a rambling about some dopes...on dope.

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Yeh, I know that was the point, Hunter S. Thompson is probably my favorite author of all time. The first line in this paper was the first line in the book, which i think showed tribute to his great work. However i was not out to copy his work, i only wrote in the same style as he chose to. They say the greatest form of flattery is copying, and in that instant when writing that paper, I was very much obliged to flatter one of the greatest modern writers of our time. So take the paper with a grain of salt and a sheet of acid.:thumbsup:
May he rest in peace, the late Hunter Stockman Thompson
James:pimp: