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Intro
I had some fun writing this piece. I read the prompt which gave me some inspiration, but I actually don't know much about this game or world. But, I do love post-apocalypse settings and since it's to do with weed I wanted to have some fun with the writing.
The piece is centred around two gate guards, protecting their small town called Budtopia that lies in the wasteland.
"So. Like. What do you think it's like to get. You know, eaten alive." Cropser said with an expressionless face, as he stared out into the distance.
"Painful probably," Guy replied. While staring out into the wasteland that stretched out before them. Guard duty. Stuck with Cropser. Guy thought to himself while leaning against the makeshift walls that were erected just after The Emergency. The walls kept the small town of Budtopia safe, even all these years later. Out of all the people, they could have paired me up with. It had to be him.
"What do you think your last words would be?" Cropser asked. "God. Why do you keep talking? If I don't respond you ask the same question until I do. When I'm short with a response, you just find another question to ask." Guy impatiently responded.
"What's the problem man?" "You. You're the problem!" Guy shouted. "Hey! Guy! Quit the talking. You're on guard duty. Be more like Cropser there and shut up!" A voice called down from one of the watchtowers.
Guy threw his hands in the air. "Cropser is the one talking!" Guy shouted back. "I said shut it! Don't make me call the Sheriff."
Guy looked over at Cropser his bright red eyes were squinting in delight for the telling off Guy just received. Shaking his head Guy stared back out, surveying the land.
"I think I know what your problem is," Cropser said while skinning up. "Here." He called as he threw a one skinner to Guy, which he caught. A joint? "I thought there was a drought." Guy said in shock as he looked at it. Raising it to his nose to run it under it, taking a sniff just to make sure Cropser wasn't playing with him.
"Oh, there is. But, I have my ways." Cropser slowly responded chuckling lightly at the end of his sentence. Guy didn't waste any time. He tore a strike-anywhere match out of his back pocket and ran it up the wall he was leaning on. It fizzed and hissed, he did well to defend the flame as he raised it to the joint. The flame danced and engulfed the end of his smoke. Guy took the first drag he'd had in weeks.
Magnificent, it drew like a pencil, if he didn't take care his mouth would have watered, from the smell of the smoke. His taste buds danced as he pulled in a deep breath. Then the dreaded tickle hit the back of his throat. He coughed instantly. Almost spitting the joint out in the process.
"If you don't cough, you don't get off," Cropser mumbled to himself as he concentrated on rolling one for himself.
"Gentlemen. Is that the smokey aroma of a dirty jinty I smell?" The voice came in before the speaker was seen. Frank Leechenstein!
"Oh, what do you want Leechmeister?" Cropser huffed. "Hey, it's Leechenstein. And don't you forget it." He retorted. "So, how about it Cropser. Am I in on this little party or what?"
"Hell no. I'm not cutting you in." Cropser replied. "You've never gotten me back. You're just a leech!" Frank gave a sad look. "I come from a long line of Leechensteins. It's not my fault that I've picked up a few bad habits." Frank pulled a sad face. "So, anyway. How about it?"
Cropser shook his head lightly, as he sparked up and blew the first drag into Frank's face. "There, you can have that," Cropser said as he started laughing. Guy burst some chuckles out too, mainly at the look of disgust Frank shot at Cropser.
"I guess I have no choice but to report you two to the Sheriff. You know the drill. The first rule of Budtopia; When in drought, pass it out." Cropser shook his head. "Sheriff Hogser Magee overruled that Decree, in the year twenty-three, after the emergency."
"That's an old law and you know it. Get with the times you hopeless twit. The lawmaker now is Sheriff Spliff, so hurry on and give me a whiff." Frank Leechenstein versed back. "Terrible. You've no rhythm or tact, but, here take one, but you better pass it back." Cropser said while handing over his joint.
Soon Frank had headed back into town, leaving the two lads in peace. Guy lazily looked out into the desert that stretched out ahead of them. Water. I need a drink. "Thirsty." Guy mumbled.
"Same. I'm going to call H2-WoW." Cropser fumbled awkwardly with his communicator. Soon a slow and lumbering android squeaked and creaked its way out the gate. "Human friends. Wet the whistle?" Cropser nodded and opened his mouth and H2-WoW blasted water at him through the repurposed blaster on his right arm. "Thanks, H2." "You're welcome, pardner."
Guy still wasn't used to these droids. He didn't trust them and didn't believe that they were sentient, but tried not to think about it. "Can you fill this canteen for me?" "Error," H2 responded with a twitch. "Please. I don't want to be hosed."
The second he finished, H2 shot him with the water. It was powerful enough to knock him off balance. His only choice was to open his mouth and drink what he could. "Ha. Ha. Humans like playing with water." The awkward android said while noisily turning and slowly heading back to town.
"Ughh. Droids." Guy said. His clothes stuck to him, soaking wet. "He's okay. He likes to play around. The little scamp." Cropser responded jovially. "Hey, who's that?" Cropser asked while staring out into the wasteland. Guy looked. Someone in all black by the look of it, with a large hat that left most of their face in shade.
"A visitor?" Guy said. While standing up straight. Awaiting the stranger to make it to them.
"What happened to you two?" The stranger asked in a gravelly voice. "Just had a drink," Cropser responded. "What brings you to our town stranger?" Guy asked.
"Business. And pleasure." Guy looked over at Cropser and back to the man. "Uh. Well. I have to ask you some questions before letting you in." As Guy finished talking the stranger looked up for the first time. His eyes were cold and dead and sent a slight shiver up Guy's spine.
"Uh. Ehm. Okay. Well, question 1. What do you think of when I say the word. Brains?" Guy read the sheet. It did say. Braaains. But, he decided not to extend the word.
"I think that if you two are the guards, this town has none." Cropser laughed at the man's response. "Yeah." He said after.
"Cropser. He just insulted us and the town." Guy whispered. "Oh, yeah. Right." Cropser said while pulling a straight face. "Enough of that now. Question 2. Have you come in contact with any undead recently?" Guy asked.
The stranger shook his head slowly. "No. Unless you two dopes count." He responded. Cropser laughed again.
"Next question. What's your name and business?" Guy asked. "The name is Mr. Budwick. I work for the Buddy Boys." Guy nodded.
"Last question. Welcome to Budtopia." "That's not a question." Mr. Budwick responded impatiently. "Yeah. It's a statement. Who wrote these questions?" Guy asked while staring at the piece of paper.
"I may have helped. I have a hazy recollection." Cropser said. Mr. Budwick walked between the two of them into the town. "Seemed like a nice guy," Cropser said after he passed.
"Bit weird though," Guy responded.
What's his business? Who are the Buddy Boys? I probably should have asked him.
