"Alright, after a quick line to pick me up!"Mature

"What ever it takes man, just... get out there!" A door slammed.

He patted his pant legs, exhaled to clear out the lungs of any remaining purities, ducked his half-plugged nose into the line,
and with a whip of the neck it was all gone. Christ Pete! A splash of red wine up the nostril to clear out the cavities... phew!

He rose, taking a staggered step, and then the cocaine hit. The edges of Marlon's vision blurred into crystalline shapes, and his face went freezing cold from all the novacaine thrown in.

Fucking Spic dealer. We'll go back to Mr. White when the money situation's more in order.

Marlon was caught in the middle of a full-scale war between stimulant and depressant that was being fought over command of his dopamine receptors. He felt the down again. He didn't put much heroine in the coke any more, though; when the foreclosure notice for the Dubai estate came, the heroine budget was the first to feel it. Then the IRS came, followed closely by bankers from various parts of the Caribbean and Sweden, and by the end, Marlon was barely speedballing; for every ten grams of coke, a gram of horse.

As expected, the stimulant suddenly won the battle, and Marlon came out of his reflective state. Door. Shows always involve a complex of doors before the floor, so all logic said that he go through the first door he see. He glanced right, as if suspicious about the existence of the dark-gray hall he stood in, surrounded by walls that reminded him of unsturdy cubicles. Ah, a door! A step was taken, and another step.

Marlon was flooded by euphoria as he watched in pride, stepping slowly but surely towards the ultimate goal, when suddenly, something went very wrong.

Through the door crashed a man as skinny as he was intense, and he came bursting towards Marlon screaming. Key words flew into Marlon's brain and he struggled to piece them together.

Show, Marlon, audio, molotov, riot squad, NOW!

As a huge rush of adrenaline burst out the ends of Marlon's veins and hit his brain, he was presented with a choice of what to do with it.

The End

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