found drama

I’ve been kidnapped by a bunch of 80s-style coke dealers.  They seem nice enough at first (mostly because I don’t realize that they’re drug dealers) as we drive around in their white Bronco.  We talk about things.  Skiing and snow-plowing.  The drive is a long one.  One of the guys starts talking about his meat fetish and how he makes big mats of meat scraps and makes his girlfriend walk barefoot across them.  When we get back to the parking garage, one of the guys shoots the others.  He pulls some replacement cronies out of the trunk and we get back in the Bronco.  The main dealer rolls down the window and has me pay from the back seat.  We take a right out of the garage and head up the strip, watching out for cop bot drones.

About Rob Friesel