The adventures continue

A nice cozy evening and the usual suspects are having a hangout at ground zero. How time has passed yet nothing much seems to have changed. Reminiscing on yester years the laughter, the revelations and outright face palm moments take center stage.

Flash back 4 years ago, when life was as simple as farting after a meal; in the absence of your crush of course.  3 days of sanity, engaged albeit a few hours when the unforgiving sun scotches the land. The minds hotwired; skimming off mediocrity and imparting maturity and with it some semblance of sanity. Be strong, the 4 day weekend is fast approaching, the great trek down to where the mouth waters at the thought of the pilgrimage. The shallow assortment notwithstanding, the register will record their presence. For hours on end, in total disregard for the dark trek back they make merry way past curfew. But they are hungry, they won’t sleep hungry. Where will they quench their hunger?  

The lights go out albeit momentarily to the slurred jeers from the usual suspects. Oblivious of the warning from the register holder, they come back on to a hearty jubilation. Moments later, the music stops, scampering at the entrance, facing the back, totally aloof of the new developments. He glances over his shoulder to a 6 ft and heavy. Glass in one hand and the 750 kill me quick in the other, there will be no waste! Bursting through the back door, left is not an option. To the right, the vegetation tasked with keeping intruders at bay seems the best alternative; it’s either that or the slammer. The jump from the inebriated is more like the charity sweep stake. The leading foot does not think his counterpart should follow, stuck in the heap becoming one with the flora. Just then the slammer express pulls up casting an unfriendly beam. Wading like a reptile, concealing everything possible lying stiller than photo. They walk right over, two of them, the law and the unfortunate purp. Minutes pass and there engine begins to roar, the beam gets ever dimmer and when calmness begins to set in, laughter erupts. oh the irony, he thought he was alone; where did everybody go? Nowhere apparently, just out of sight joining the flora or cozying up the sand. goodness me, damn there were times!

Kill me quick in hand; their rubber appendages begin an exodus. Just another day in the life of the members; register marked another tantalizing story for the archives, never mind the garments will never be worn again. They are young; the future will take care of itself. The party don’t stop, doing a pap of honour around the usual hotspots. Kill me quick has to do just that even if it means death at dawn. The grinding the bending the twer…oh sorry that wasn't invented yet; well into the morning.

Fast forward back to the present; the adventures continue.