Quote Originally Posted by ShadowGate420
My story begins in my suburban town, behind a dingy looking bar. Me and my best mate Joe were trying to buy some dope off a greasy-looking guy who we met inside. This turned out to be a dumb move, but at that drunkin time, Joe being 6'4 265 lbs, my amature boxing background, we didn't have any idea the shit-whirlwind this greasy looking guy started.
"You got a half quarter on you now?" My buddy Joe asked him. "I don't have it on me now, but I have it closeby." The greaseball said unconvincingly. "Forget it then." I said, knowing I could call up one of my trusted dealers anytime I wanted.

Then, it happened: The greaseball goes into his coat pocket and pulls out a pistol and points it directly at me. "We're gonna go for a little ride, boys. Get it that red car over there or I'll fucking kill you both right here."


I'll finish the rest later, I'm too tired and drunk to word it right.

Alright well anyways. After he pointed the gun at me I look at my buddy and he starts crackin a smile, so I'm like "WTF, mate?". Then the greaseball starts bursting out laughing. "We're just fucking with you kid." He says as he hands me some dope. My buddy planned this and it turns out he knew this greaseball. We all end up going back in for a few more beers and smoke some dope. Turns out this greaseball was an alright guy. His name was John and he ended up marrying my sister and is my brother in law. Pretty fucked up, eh?