Unfinished/Abandoned: “The Biggest Hit”
This poor idea. Okay, where do I begin?
A long time ago, I had an idea to do a series of short stories. They would be sort of inspired by Pulp Fiction, but different. Each of them was going to focus on various funny and unusual situations. By the end, you’d realize how connected they all were, kind of like the movie Magnolia but I thought of this before I saw that movie.
One of those stories was one I ended up calling “The Biggest Hit.” Basically, it involved two friends who were stoners. They come across an extremely large amount of weed in some convoluted way. Then, one of their friends (or in an alternate version, one of them) smokes up the entire truck full of weed and overdoses. The humor in this was supposed to come from the fact that he overdosed on weed. In fact, it’s supposedly physically impossible to overdose on pure weed. The chemical makeup of the plant prevents this (and becoming physically addicted) from happening.
For some reason, I just cannot get this idea down in a good way. I tried it first as a short story, which is what I am going to post here. As the title of this post says, it’s unfinished. After a couple of tries, I abandoned the short story in favor of writing a comedy skit. I personally think the skit version sucks, but I will post it at a later date. After writing the skit version, I just abandoned the idea entirely. Maybe I will revisit it someday. After all, with Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle set to come out soon, I could get inspired. We’ll have to see.
Now, here’s my unfinished short story version of “The Biggest Hit.” (Contains some mild language)
The Biggest Hit
A Short Story by Sterling Fisher
“I can’t believe we got it!” yelled Tim as he walked down the street.
“Shh...calm down, man! We don’t want anyone to suspect anything,” replied Daniel, Tim’s best friend who was walking right beside him.
“Right, right. It’s cool. But boy, I cannot wait to get back to your place!” Tim had a big smile on his spectacled face and his eyes were as wide as frisbees. Daniel gave him a look not unlike a mother gives to a hyperactive little boy. Tim instantly calmed down and gave his best bud a little smirk.
“You really need to relax, man. Besides we’re almost there.” The two turned down a residential street and past a few houses before reaching Daniel’s residence. They walked towards the backyard and there sat, right behind the house, a small cargo truck.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes! This is it, baby! In that truck is more than 600 pounds of quality weed! We never need to buy another dimebag again!” Tim jumped for joy. Daniel walked over to the hatch and got ready to open it.
“Let’s take another look then get some,” Daniel said. He opened the hatch and a look of utter bewilderment came across him. Tim tapped him on the shoulder.
“What’s wrong Danny? Why did you stop....oh hell no!!!! Hell no!!” Tim yelled as he saw why Daniel looked so weird. Instead of the bundles upon bundles of plastic wrapped marijuana they expected to see, they saw mounds upon mounds of ashes. A man was lying unconscious next to the ashes with a bong, an empty wax paper package, and an unusually happy look on his face.
“Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! That’s George!”
“George? The always willing to mooch off somebody George? The George who pawned my $300 watch to buy a PlayStation 2? This George just smoked 600 pounds of weed in the three hours we were gone?! I’m gonna kill him!” Tim climbed inside the truck and lunged at George. Daniel climbed inside the truck and lunched at him. They both fell down into a pile of ashes which spread into clouds and made them cough and gag.
“Tim! Relax man! You’re going to kill him!” Tim continued going for the unconscious George, desperately trying to grab his leg. Daniel pulled at Tim, keeping him from grabbing George.
“Let me at ‘em, dammit! He smoked up enough weed to last the two of us for years! That’s it, man! I’m gonna kill him!”
“Don’t do it, man! It’s bad enough all the weed’s gone, killing George won’t help anything.”
“It’ll help me relieve my stress!”
“Or go to jail.”
“Like stealing a police cargo truck with 600 pounds of weed won’t do the same thing!” They tussled for a while before Tim just plain gave up and flopped down in the ashes. Daniel got up and walked over towards George. He was barely breathing. Daniel opened George’s eyes—they were rolled back into his head.
“Aww crap!”
“What now?”
“I think George OD’ed.”
“What? Come on Danny! Even I know you can’t OD on weed!”
“Think about it. George just smoked 600 pounds in 3 hours. That’s 200 pounds an hour. What’s the most you’ve smoked at one time?”
“I smoked an eight ounce blunt once. It took a long time to finish.”
.
A long time ago, I had an idea to do a series of short stories. They would be sort of inspired by Pulp Fiction, but different. Each of them was going to focus on various funny and unusual situations. By the end, you’d realize how connected they all were, kind of like the movie Magnolia but I thought of this before I saw that movie.
One of those stories was one I ended up calling “The Biggest Hit.” Basically, it involved two friends who were stoners. They come across an extremely large amount of weed in some convoluted way. Then, one of their friends (or in an alternate version, one of them) smokes up the entire truck full of weed and overdoses. The humor in this was supposed to come from the fact that he overdosed on weed. In fact, it’s supposedly physically impossible to overdose on pure weed. The chemical makeup of the plant prevents this (and becoming physically addicted) from happening.
For some reason, I just cannot get this idea down in a good way. I tried it first as a short story, which is what I am going to post here. As the title of this post says, it’s unfinished. After a couple of tries, I abandoned the short story in favor of writing a comedy skit. I personally think the skit version sucks, but I will post it at a later date. After writing the skit version, I just abandoned the idea entirely. Maybe I will revisit it someday. After all, with Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle set to come out soon, I could get inspired. We’ll have to see.
Now, here’s my unfinished short story version of “The Biggest Hit.” (Contains some mild language)
The Biggest Hit
A Short Story by Sterling Fisher
“I can’t believe we got it!” yelled Tim as he walked down the street.
“Shh...calm down, man! We don’t want anyone to suspect anything,” replied Daniel, Tim’s best friend who was walking right beside him.
“Right, right. It’s cool. But boy, I cannot wait to get back to your place!” Tim had a big smile on his spectacled face and his eyes were as wide as frisbees. Daniel gave him a look not unlike a mother gives to a hyperactive little boy. Tim instantly calmed down and gave his best bud a little smirk.
“You really need to relax, man. Besides we’re almost there.” The two turned down a residential street and past a few houses before reaching Daniel’s residence. They walked towards the backyard and there sat, right behind the house, a small cargo truck.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes! This is it, baby! In that truck is more than 600 pounds of quality weed! We never need to buy another dimebag again!” Tim jumped for joy. Daniel walked over to the hatch and got ready to open it.
“Let’s take another look then get some,” Daniel said. He opened the hatch and a look of utter bewilderment came across him. Tim tapped him on the shoulder.
“What’s wrong Danny? Why did you stop....oh hell no!!!! Hell no!!” Tim yelled as he saw why Daniel looked so weird. Instead of the bundles upon bundles of plastic wrapped marijuana they expected to see, they saw mounds upon mounds of ashes. A man was lying unconscious next to the ashes with a bong, an empty wax paper package, and an unusually happy look on his face.
“Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! That’s George!”
“George? The always willing to mooch off somebody George? The George who pawned my $300 watch to buy a PlayStation 2? This George just smoked 600 pounds of weed in the three hours we were gone?! I’m gonna kill him!” Tim climbed inside the truck and lunged at George. Daniel climbed inside the truck and lunched at him. They both fell down into a pile of ashes which spread into clouds and made them cough and gag.
“Tim! Relax man! You’re going to kill him!” Tim continued going for the unconscious George, desperately trying to grab his leg. Daniel pulled at Tim, keeping him from grabbing George.
“Let me at ‘em, dammit! He smoked up enough weed to last the two of us for years! That’s it, man! I’m gonna kill him!”
“Don’t do it, man! It’s bad enough all the weed’s gone, killing George won’t help anything.”
“It’ll help me relieve my stress!”
“Or go to jail.”
“Like stealing a police cargo truck with 600 pounds of weed won’t do the same thing!” They tussled for a while before Tim just plain gave up and flopped down in the ashes. Daniel got up and walked over towards George. He was barely breathing. Daniel opened George’s eyes—they were rolled back into his head.
“Aww crap!”
“What now?”
“I think George OD’ed.”
“What? Come on Danny! Even I know you can’t OD on weed!”
“Think about it. George just smoked 600 pounds in 3 hours. That’s 200 pounds an hour. What’s the most you’ve smoked at one time?”
“I smoked an eight ounce blunt once. It took a long time to finish.”
.
posted by Sterfish at 8:46 PM
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