"It's a pity they discontinued the Lucky Strike brand two years ago, Johnny," David began, lighting a cigarette with a black zippo lighter. "You see, I used to smoke a lucky as I told this story... it had a sort of poetic justice to it. You see, my very first cigarette was a lucky. True story. I stole it from my dad when I was ten. He didn't notice. I kept stealing one by one for two years, until he did notice. See... I had taken a whole pack from his carton, like a dumbass."

David paused to look at his company; they were in the alley behind the McDonald's in the town square; they had no company but the dumpster and brick walls. Johnny was nervous; David could see that. People tended to get nervous when David began his speeches.

"Now, Johnny boy, when my dad caught me, first he whooped me good for stealing from him. Then, he sold me a pack. It was that easy. Bastard charged me the price of a carton for a pack though... but by then I was hooked. Now, a year later he went to prison and I got my first fake ID, so I could buy my own luckies, but I learned two things from that little period of my life. First thing, Johnny boy, is to control your vices, and don't get addicted. Now, normally I would never tell a client that. My coke heads and heroin junkies; well, I rely on them getting addicted. That's how I make money. Buy you... you just smoke weed, don't you Johnny? And weed's not addictive, is it?"

David paused, and took a long drag on his cigarette, and stared Johnny square in the eyes. David was a large teen, and the way he carried himself made sure that no one ever forgot it. David didn't stand, he loomed.

"I swear Johnny... If I didn't know better I'd swear that you're addicted to weed. You come by every week and buy a whole ounce! Every week! Why, Johnny boy, you're my best customer! You must smoke a lot of weed, boy, it's a wonder you're passing school."

David finished his cigarette, and let the butt fall to the ground. He put it out with the sole of his shoe.

"Wanna know the other lesson I learned, Johnny boy? There's dealers and buyers, and I'm the dealer. Now... I've heard that you've been dealing on the side Johnny. Taking advantage of my low prices, and reselling my shit for your profit. But I know you wouldn't do that to me Johnny would you? I'm sure you can handle a whole ounce by yourself, can't you Johnny boy?"

...

Sure, it was a waste of product... but it would be a great headline.

Boy Choked to Death on Reefer!

Damn it feels good to be a gangster.

__________________