I opened a new bottle with a label letting me know the strain was called  Buzz N Smilez. Marx had said this strain was brand new and, I quote, “Totally tubular.” It was only a sample (half an ounce) and knowing myself would be gone before you can say “what would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood chuck chuck”. I sniffed it, “Smells fresh.” I left the black bottle on the kitchen counter and went to my room. I sluggishly walked to the nightstand next to my messy bed and opened the only drawer it had. I grabbed six pieces of cigar paper I had precut a few nights ago, and,
sitting on my bed my phone started ringing. I wiped my face and looked for my phone. It was under my bed; great. I tried reaching for it but I couldn't grab it. “Ugh”, I set the cigar papers on the nightstand and slid under my bed. I started coughing, “S***, there’s so much dust down here!” I found my phone and quickly slid back out. I wiped all the dust off my face and checked to see who was calling me, I answered, “Hey mom.” “Cyrus! Goodmorning baby! Or should I say afternoon, haha! I’m going to the mall in about twenty minutes and I want you to go with me! What do you say? Will you go? Of course you will! Why am I asking, hahaha! I’ll see you in twenty! Dress nicely! None of those baggy pants you kids nowadays call fashion, puh-lease!  Bye son!”, static. “Gee mom, thanks for inviting me, but I was actually thinking about going to the gym. Thanks anyway…” I picked up the cigar paper and walked back to the kitchen. I picked up the black bottle of Buzz N Smilez. “I can smoke this in 20 minutes, right? Who am I kidding, I can smoke it in 15.” I smirked. I laid all six pieces of cigar paper down and started laying down Buzz N Smilez. I sealed the edges, dug in my back pocket, and pulled out my rainbow lighter. I glanced at the clock and- “S***!” I had 10 minutes left. “F*** it!”, I put all six blunts in my mouth and lit them all at once. I sucked on all six and let out a nice thin stream. I don’t know where time went; but, I swear the second I puffed my last stream my mom was honking her horn. “Woo mama’s home…”, I giggled.
“Hey there mama! Good mornin’ to you! I don’t know about you but I’ve had an amazeballs morning, haha!” “Jesus Christ Cyrus, you stink! How much did you smoke?!” “I smoked this many…”, I held out six fingers and wiggled them in her weird lookin’ face. “What is wrong with you?! Your father and I…” Woah she looks pretty mad, haha. Is that a squirrel running across the street? That’s tubular! Hey! Buzz N Smilez is tubular! Marx was right, haha. I started smiling. I wonder what would happen if I mixed Buzz N Sm- “...you’re an adult now Cyrus!You need to get over this nonsense!” “Hey ma, that’s a really f***ed up thing to say”, I squint my eyes towards her, “Hey is that a new wrinkle, it looks tub-”, she slapped me. “Get out.” She leaned over me and opened the car door. “Call me when…”
I walked to my tubular room and laid down on my tubular bed, “Tubular.” I nodded to the sick beat my wind chimes were making outside. “Sick.”
-
I woke up with a headache. “S***. I forgot about these.” It wasn’t a bad headache, but it was still a headache. I slowly got out of bed and walked to the kitchen. I saw the empty bottle of Buzz N Smilez on the counter. You’re so f***ing dumb Cyrus. I opened my “medicine” cabinet in search for Dairy Queen. Dairy Queen had always cured my headaches. “Forest Dream, no. Haze, no. Lemon Drop, well maybe. Aha! Dairy Queen!” I held it up like a witch does when she’s found the perfect potion. I prepped and smoked two blunts. “Always does the trick.” I started cleaning up the ashes. Man I’ve got to wash the- “Woah…”, my knees failed. I fell to the ground and slammed my chin on the counter; I bit my tongue. “F***!” My head started pounding like crazy. The corners of my eyes started blacking out until eventually I was in oblivion.
-
I could hear my name. I could hear it; I swear. I just couldn’t figure out from where. “Cyrus. Cyrus. Cyrus.” It’s like having a piece of chocolate cake in front of you and not being able to grab it. I recognize that voice. I do. It’s… It’s…
“Cyrus, wake the f*** up!” She slapped me; I woke up. I took a deep breath in; like those people in spanish soap operas do. “Wha the fuh! Courtnie?” It was Courtnie. “Well you wouldn’t wake up! And what happened to your face?” “My, my fath?” I lifted my hand to my face. I felt a semi-dry liquid on it; blood. “Thit.”
“Go wash it off, don’t touch it!” I got up. As I got up I got light headed; really light headed. What was wrong with me? “Woh there partner. Here let me help you. I’ll ask who beat your ass up later, haha.” “You know Courtnie, you can be a real bith sometimeth.” “Oops. Too bad you're stuck with me.” She smiled a large grin towards me. We walked to the restroom and Courtnie sat me down on my porcelain toilet, “Now. What the hell happened?!” “No, now geh me tha”, I pointed towards the red towel hanging on the shower door. I could barely speak. I was in agony. My whole body was. My mouth was pounding. My chest, or somewhere near it, was burning. Like I had swallowed a heated metal spike ball. My breathing was slowing down. I tried sitting up to let more air in but the pain in my chest wouldn’t let me. “Niee..wahh..”, I tried saying but with each word I had less and less air; like a car tire with a huge slash. “Nine? Nine what? Oh s***! 9-1-1! Right?” I nodded sluggishly. I started slowly wiping off the blood on my face. Thank the f***ing heavens the towel was red, seeing blood really freaks me out. “Hello? My friend looks like he’s dying! He-he bit his tongue in half an-and there’s something wrong with his breathing… Yeah. N-no. Yeah yeah for sure let me find some mail.” She covered the microphone, “I’ll be back”, she whispered. She walked away. My vision started dimming. “Fuh…”, this isn’t good. And just like the sky during a sunset; my vision went dark.
-
I saw lights. And there were people, too; I think. “Check his vitals”, “Heart rate dropping sir.” Darkness.
-
I woke up to the sound of my heart monitor. Beep. Beep. I was in a hospital bed. There were a s*** load of needles in both my arms and a tube going up my nose. I looked to my left. Courtnie was in the corner. She was sleeping on some crappy chair with a huge Tommy Hilfiger sweater keeping her warm. I can’t blame her; it’s f***ing cold in here. I looked to my right. There was a window with a tree just outside of it. There was a birds nest in it; the mama bird was feeding her kids. I smiled. “Hey you’re awake”, Courtnie said in a muffled voice. “Yeah, I guess I am. What the f*** happened to me?” “Wow, no, ‘thanks for calling 9-1-1 Courtnie you’re a lifesaver’?” She chuckled. “Um. Before I tell you you’re gonna wanna sit down.” She chucked and stood up. “Screw you.” I chucked too. She sat next to me. “Uh. I guess there’s no other way to say it, but uh. You- You..” “Hurry up and tell me Court!” A tear ran down her face. She started sniffling. “You’ve got lung cancer. And your lungs swell up; constantly and without warning.” I stared at her. I just stared at her. Am I gonna die? Is there a cure? Now a tear ran down my face. I wiped it away. “How though? I thought pot didn’t affect you?” “Well I guess it does…” We both sniffled at the same time, making us giggle. “Do my parents know?” “No, bu-” “Good.” I said firmly. “The last thing I need is for them to give me a f***ing lecture on how ‘they told me so’, gosh I hate those things.” “Are you sure? I know you might not agree, but you kinda-” “Don’t. The last last thing I need is for you to turn into my parents.” “Okay, okay. Whatever you say.” The door opened, “Hi there, uh, Cyrus?” “Yeah” “Hi, I’m doctor Metapost and I will be assisting you. Now I presume Courtnie here has filled you in on your current health condition?” “Yeah. She has.” I looked over at Courtnie. “Now Courtnie here had informed me that you smoke marijuana, and she had asked how it was possible for you to have this disease, so I told her I’d run some tests. We found that you have residue of some sort of unidentified drug in your respiratory system. The damage seems to look recent, as in the past 24 hours. Can you tell me what drugs you have used in the past 24 hours?” Marx. “Uh. Well I tried a new strain today, does that help?” “And do you know what was in that ‘strain’ Cyrus?” “Uhhh, weed. My dealer told me to try it. Said it was new” “Cyrus, would you mind if we tested this ‘strain’?” “I mean sure, I guess. Just unhook me and I’ll be on my way.” “Oh no Cyrus. You can’t leave, your body is too weak. Ask Courtnie to go get it.” “Yeah, yeah I’ll get it. Um. Uh, Cy where’s it at?” “It’s in my med cabinet in the kitchen, you know what I’m talking about?” “For sure.” “Alright, look for a bottle called Buzz N Smilz, it should be the smallest bottle there. Uh, Doc, I don’t think there’s much left, but you could try.” “Definitely.” “Alright Cy. I’ll be back.” “K. See ya.” She left; and Doc locked the door behind her. “She’ll probably take 20 to 30 minutes to get back, don’t you think, ‘Cy’?” “I mean, yeah sure.” He started getting closer. I sat straight up in my bed. “Perfect.” He smiled at me and got even closer; my heart monitor started to beep a little faster. “Oh, you don’t have to be scared Cyrus; not yet at least.” “What do you mean?” Someone was knocking at the door. Doc opened it and two men in all black suits walked in. “Wh- Who are the-y?” My voice was shaky, my palms were sweaty, and my heart monitor was was beeping really fast. “Oh, don’t worry about them, they’re just here to help.” All three of them started coming closer, and closer. “He- Help wi-ith, with what?” He started smiling, but quickly changed it to a frown, “Killing you.” We all froze. I broke the silence and started ripping the needles out of me; I hurt like hell. As soon as I got the last needles out the two men started to hold me down. “Get the f*** off of me!” I tried to break free, but they were too strong. “Now before we do this”, Doc said, “Marx wanted me to deliver a message.” “Marx? What do you mean Marx?!” “Gosh! Do I have to explain everything! It’s simple really. Marx wants to keep making money from selling drugs, right? But he can’t do that if his customers keep getting lung cancer. I’ve told him time after time to let me help him perfect the formula, but he keeps declining. So I gave up on insisting. Just as long as I get my money, I’m good.” “So you kill people for money?!” “Hmm. Yeah, I guess I do. But when you put it like that it sounds bad.” “You’re so f***ing screwed up!” “Yeah. I know. Anyway, onto what Marx wanted me to tell you”, he walked towards me and pulled out a rusted syringe filled with orange stuff. I tried breaking free on last time; it didn’t work. “What was it? Ah, yes! He wanted me to tell you ‘no hard feelings, it’s just business’.” He grinned and jammed the needle into my arm; I winced.