1 "Faceplant" Part 1
1 "Faceplant" Part 1 chroniclesofnarnia stories

cslupus This one's for the psychos.
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
Hello! It's Lupus. Here to put the chronic into the Chronicles. I don't own anything by C.S. Lewis but I believe he would smile on fanfiction and that he fully intended the reader to finish his world. I don't own anything by Tech N9ne. The italics are lyrics from his song "Einstein".

1 "Faceplant" Part 1

Hello! It's Lupus. Here to put the chronic into the Chronicles. I don't own anything by C.S.

Lewis but I believe he would smile on fanfiction and that he fully intended the reader to finish his world. I don't own anything by Tech N9ne. The italics are lyrics from his song "Einstein".

Christmas day. Topeka, KS. 2414 Se Colorado Street. Dale's house

"So, fucking Egypt, right? Yknow, I was there and damn it, I wanted to try some of that local hashish.

" John said this while gesturing with the hose of the hookah in his hand, half remembering to finally take a hit.

He blew the next words in clouds, "It was back in late 2011 to early 2012 and they had that revolution, right? Well..." John paused to take a drink from his tall natty light and coughed.

Scarlette sat inconspicuously at the end of the couch, a worn and gorilla taped hookah hose in hand as everyone listened to the man sitting cross-legged on the floor.

She'd been at job Corp for a year and a half and was finally free to smoke. She was lit as fuck and did her best to follow along.

He continued, "So I found some guys who put me in contact with a dealer. And this wasn't something like here in the states where you go to the place, take it home and, yknow.

No, this dude led me and about 3 other guys to this fucking warehouse.

There was literally this big ol' switch breaker, like 'Egor, flip the switch' style thing that they pull down to turn on this one bare bulb hanging over this circle of chairs.

At this point I'm thinking, yknow. 'Yeah, I might die, but fuck it. Yolo. Let's see where this goes.' and besides, they already had my money.

So we go and sit in these chairs and they break it out and we're passing it around when one of the guys there starts to speak. He said," John paused.

The look in his eye had shifted to a sadder gaze. "He said he was with the Egyptian guard or military or whatever. I don't remember his rank, just that he gave orders.

He told us his rank and he told us his job during the revolution. Keep in mind that this shit just happened, like, within a year of him telling this story.

His job was to tell the armed soldiers guarding some building what to do. The protests were crazy and a few times, yknow, his men got nervous, and he got nervous.

He finally ordered the men to fire into the air to scare the crowd back, and so they did and the crowd dispersed.

Just a couple days later they were back, and after a bit he had his men fire in the air again and the crowd dispersed and backed up, but slower this time.

And sure enough, a day and a half later, they're back. So he has them fire into the air again. But the crowd isn't dispersing.

He's telling us about fucking hundreds of people calling his bluff and his superiors were putting pressure on him and then, for whatever reason, he looked ME in the eye, dead in the eye,

and said 'So I ordered my men to fire into the crowd.' and the only thing I could think right then in that moment was 'I am so fucking high right now.'"

The room was quiet.

This quiet was comically broken with the sound of someone sucking the last icy bit of fountain drink through a straw, and everyone suppressed their laughter until finally Scarlette let hers go.

The rest of the room followed suit. The tension broke and Dale, the host, slid over to Scarlette and asked her to pass the Playstation controller.

She handed it over and he proceeded to put on some YouTube. Music filled the spaces left by people trickling towards the kitchen where the liquor was.

If you got scratch nigga, get the fuck up Throw your hands up, if you hella fucked up Einstein, tech n9ne, two triple zip Crack a jaw, whip 'em all, if they wanna trip Ladies with the bar codes,

meet me after this

Maybe you can show me,

the meaning of abyss Everybody on the wall momma is a bzzz Had her at the budgetel stroking on my dzzz This ones for the psychos gang bangers and sluts Bumbs holding the pipe

those college graduate fucks

Scarlette stepped out onto the front porch to smoke a cigarette.

As she untangled her ear buds, a second person came outside and lit a clove cigar.

"Sup, Eddie." Scarlette said. She looked at him and noticed his clean cut appearance and his absence of cornrows. "You look nice. Your hair is really short, though. Beard looks good."

"Thanks, clove?

" he offered the little black pack over and she saw a lighter and a chillum in it with 3 black wrapped cigars and three little nugs of weed in the cellophane of a cigarette pack burned shut.

"Everything's coming in threes. Nah. I don't want one after that hash."


"Three cloves. Three nugs. Three days."

"So it's true. You're going to London to live with your dad." replied Eddie.

"Yeah, got the ticket with my Job Corp. money."

"You went for culinary, right? Are you sure they'll take your certification in the U.K.?"

"There's plenty of places that pay under the table. Skill is skill and I have it. I'll start there." she said a little defensively.

She didn't like to talk about her reasons for moving, but the truth was, she felt called. London was calling and she was going to answer. She just was.

"I wish you'd reconsider." Eddie said sadly. "Do you at least have some money left after the ticket? Probably just a couple hundred dollars.

What if things don't go your way and you end up homeless?"

"I'm sorry, Eddie, but I'm..." she was cut off by a series of gunshots from a few blocks over. "No, seriously! Who the fuck gangbangs on Christmas?"

"Keep it classy, Topeka." Eddie replied. The put out their half smoked deathsticks with reluctance and headed back inside.

Kc mo roll Kc mo roll What do we say to haters off top Haters got beef they thinking we got We gon' get postal if it don't stop You can get ghost or you can get shot

Scarlet sat down on the sofa and looked at her novelty yo-yo/mp3 player she was given as a fare well gift from her Job Corp. friend, Sylvester.

"I wanted to, just, curate and give you the best techno and trap and dubstep playlist ever, but a bunch of shit went down at my house I had to deal with,

so I ended up not having time and I was just going to give you the yoyo and let you put on whatever juggalo shit you wanted, but then my buddy gave me acid.

While I was peaking, I suddenly decided to work on this list, so I'm just ripping songs off of YouTube based on how they made me trip and, if they didn't make me trip right,

it was like there was this lion, this fucking golden ass lion, looking in at me through a door in my chest and it'd growl. I'd feel it growl. It was insane. But I did fill it for you.

So, it's all techno. Pretty random. Glitch Mob, Timmy Trumpet, some Diplo. Give it a chance before you delete it all."

She didn't say anything but she'd been seeing a huge lion in her dreams climbing the rocks on top of Echo Cliffs as the sun's rays slanted beneath a great, black stormcloud.

Then it would look at her and she'd realize something so shocking it would wake her up but she could never remember what shocked her awake.

She rolled her ear buds around the yo-yo and put it back in her bag. She headed into the kitchen to find Eddie.

"No dude," Eddie said, red cup in hand "you should not learn how to crip walk. You shouldn't even say crip walk. Say C-walk. And don't do it."

"Man, I do not, for the life of me, understand why a dance should be off limits. I just don't." said Tommie. "Man, I don't give a fuck, I'm graduated! Oh damn, sup Scarlette!"

"Sup. Shit, I'm graduated, too." she said as she grabbed a cup.

"From Job Corp. Not the same. Come back when you been to college, then law school." Tommy said as he leaned forward and smiled arrogantly.

"Man, chill out you cocky motherfucker. You ain't passed the bar yet. You are not a lawyer yet. You're a juris doctorate having motherfucker. Let Scarlette have hers, man.

It takes nothing from you." said Eddie.

Scarlette glared at Tommie and poured herself some soda. She didn't really feel like drinking tonight, not after her mom's drunken bullshit earlier.

She was thinking about being home as little as possible until her flight. She had lots of people to visit and say goodbye to, so it felt doable.

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