Enchantress

Her fiery red hair shone in the sunlight of a bright Saturday morning, well a little past ten o'clock it was, as she tackled a much larger black and purple haired woman from her feet in a perfect white wedding dress.

They both let out small fits of laughter before the red headed one helped the taller middle aged woman to her feet. "Well looky there," the older girl spoke as she pointed her finger to two young men sitting on a picnic table.

"Don't worry about it, P," the heavier male said to a taller, lankier, man with a short hair style that was black. The two had rode in a ford four by four they called the 'white buffalo' to the wedding being invited by the larger male's aunt on his actual father's side. I say actual father because the stout guy's mother had been adopted by a fairly well to do family years before his birth.

"Well you ready to get fucked up?" The shorter, but more built man inquired to his compadre.

"You know it, D," he said with a wicked smirk. So the two left in the taller boy's vehicle back to D's trailer where they drank, smoke, and imbibed in massive amounts of illegal substances.

"You know that girl?" P asked his pal with glazed over eyes from the alcohol.

"Nah, man but hopefully I'll get to know her, heh." He responded his accent slurred from booze and drugs. "Now time to make this sucker run," he said as he unfolded a foil from his hat. It held methamphetamines, the shake and bake kind, hell any type would've done for the occasion his aunt had just got married. He held a straw in between his teeth and ran a lighter down the length of the canoe melting the powerful substance, causing it to turn into a thin line as he inhaled with the straw above the shiny chrome boat.

"Awww yeah," he said as he exhaled and passed the instruments to his buddy. Who took a hit from the foil as well.

"Damnit how come you can always git the big ones?" P complained a little jealous of the gargantuan amount of smoke D had released from his lungs.

"That, my friend, is a secret of the Divine Tweakers a.k.a. the REAL tweakers, heh heh," he smarted back at the older druggie who looked down at the linoleum floor then smiled back.

"At least I can drank ya under tha table, hah," he commented as he set the tools down on the middle of the table amongst beer cans, and lines of multiple different benzodiazepams, and pills.

"Well see bout that, but as of now your two behind and it's your line." D commented with a smile, his long blonde hair falling in front of his face. P shook his head and used the straw to take a line of purple powder about an inch long, before he head rushed.

"Gawd damn." P said as he chugged another miller light and threw the empty can on the hard wood table.

"At this rate you'll never catch up," D said as he also slammed his brew and popped open another. "Never hah," he laid it on his buddy.

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This is actually based off of real events I haven't continued on it yet because I wanted to see if anyone would even be interested in hearing a somewhat embellished, but hardly, version of me meeting a girl.

Signed,

Vicious Cerberus.