NO WAY IN HELL! (A Marilyn Manson fanfiction)

NO WAY IN HELL!: Chapter Sixteen

Holy mother FUCKING fuck I'm sorry for not updating in years on end, but because schools ended I was have way more time to update woooooo!!! This ones for miw-sells-cocaine  and Cyberrat  💕 enjoy spookies!

Twiggy's POV:

"Maybe we should go see Brian now"

"Yeah I'll see Brian now, just five more minutes"

"Shit five minutes gone I won't be long"

Those exact sentences have been ringing in my head for the past three hours.

Yes, I was supposed to go, but what had Stephen pulled out from his overnight backpack? That's right, a motherfucking

Bong

!

It had been agggges since I've smoked a bit of weed, or ripped a proper bong before. My ones always seem to consist of drink bottles and a hose pipe. I'm that much of a pussy to actually walk into an alternative shop like "yo I'm here for a bong"

Like, no.

So what did I do when I saw Stephens? Well I did the usual thing someone would do if they saw weed after not having any for a million years.

I screamed, shot my hands out and grabbed it from his reach, causing a small squeak from Stephens chapped lips.

"Man, yo what the fuck?!" Stephen sloppily spat at me, waving his hands in the air in a lazy protest. Considering he's baked he didn't do much.

I only waved him off with a dismissive hand and decided to just climb up onto my bed sheets, sit the bong in front of me and light it, considering Stephen already packed it.

A quick breath in immediately got me hyped up, that's how much of a lightweight I am.
I only groaned in satisfaction, a smile poised on my lips.

Stephen let out a chuckle and looked to me, with mildly bloodshot eyes, zoned out completely too. "Hey Joe, remember your first time wh-"

He couldn't finish his sentence without snorting and cursing to himself.

"Sorry, um, yeah when you-"
He snorted

"Wh-when, when Ging bought the bong and HHHHHHHH-!!"
I flinched the fuck back at his sudden outburst of laughter, a long wheeze.

He slapped himself on his thigh and toppled over onto my carpet, still wheezing horrendously. I stared at him, dumbfounded, with an unamused frown sitting on my face.

Stephen reached up and wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "Oh dear lord, when, when you sucked to hard and- and th-ThE THE WATER HHHHHHHAAAAAA!!-" he wheezed again, and proceeded to laugh for a straight thirty seconds.

I only closed my eyes and sighed helplessly until Stephen laughed so hard that no sound came out from his mouth.

The bong. I remember too clearly, and only Stephen, Gidget and Ginger knew about it. I reckon Gidget broke his promise in not telling anyone because he probably told Lucifer and all of his hell buddies.

It was late at night, and I was feeling rebellious. I was over at Ginger's place and Stephen just lives across from the road from him, and Gidget was staying with Stephen. So we called them and we all met outside on the street, agreeing to go to the local park to get a high.

It was about midnight, and Ginger had bought his 'legend' bong, as he liked to call it, along with him.

A few grams of weed was shoved into my dress pocket. I had only ever rolled blunts back then, and I had no idea what a bong was.

When we sat down and lit the weed, Ginger did the first hit, claiming he deserved it after a long walk of carrying a bong. Mind you, it was only about minute away from where we lived.

After Ginger, Stephen went, looking like a skilful fucking bong ripper. I was in awe at how well these boys could know exactly what they were doing.

Gidget refused to do any hits on the bong, as he looked and said he felt quite content with the cocaine he was snorting from one of the tree branches. Also a reminder on how I got my nickname. Gidget had snorted a stray twig up his nostril and nearly choked, and when he finally got it out, he took one look at the snot covered thing and slurred "Jeordie... you look like this, ha.." and that's how we ended up deciding to make nicknames. Later on when we became interested in models and killers, I liked the model Twiggy and named myself again after her, so I guess I should've been a Twiggy all along.

When Stephen had finished ripping, he tried telling me how to do it, but because I had been paying 'full attention' go what they were doing, I decided that I was experienced enough.

I don't know how I did it. I don't know what happened or why the fuck fate wanted it, probably for a bloody good laugh, and that, is what it got.

I don't know if I blew out or sucked too hard, but I did something wrong because after a few breaths my eyes had started to sting and I screamed like a little girl because I kid you not, I thought my eyes were on fire. I had managed I splash bong and weed ash water in my eyes, making me looked as stoned as ever, since then I never really trusted bongs. 

I rolled my eyes as I recalled over the whole story, Stephen was still wheezing on my bedroom floor, and I pushed the bong aside, lying back on my pillows.

"Fucking fuck you bongs" I mumbled as I rolled a blunt, putting it between my lips and smiling trustfully.

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