“I wake up every morning wishing I didn’t.” said Clark as he passed the joint to his buddy Tracy.

“That’s the most sadboy emo shit I’ve ever had the displeasure of hearing Clark, keep it to yourself next time.” replied Tracy, and passed the joint back.

“What the fuck kinda response is that you sefless bastard? I’ve always been there for you when you’re feeling low, nice to know I cant expect the favour returned.” spat Clark as he flicked the joint.

“Shit man, I woulda hit that roach.” said Tracy, pawing his hand at the distant smokey stub of a roach.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

“Never mind the roach you bell end, what about the Wasteland that is our mutual compassion? It’s not a lot to expect a bit of consolidation from a mate you’ve known for so many years.” vented Clark.

“Shit man, I don’t know. To be honest man, I kinda just wanna lax out. I got enough of my own problems. I don't need more piled on top.” Tracy frankly stated.

“Next time you need a lift from the brothel or you wind up at one of your shindigs without a ride home, you can bite the bullet and catch an Uber.” stated Clark as he tightened his worn apron and stood from the curbside.

“Don’t speak so loudly when you say that you dickwad, people could hear.” replied Clark, finding his footing.

“Well I hope they do, I’ll gladly tell them how much of a lousy useless mate you are that has no consideration whatsoever for the people that held you up at your lowest.”

“C’mon man we’re on break, long day ahead of us, I dont need this BS. Give me a break.” replied Clark.

“Give you a break? Get fucked you selfish prick. Go find someone else to mope off when you need a hand.”