Fruity Pebbles
By: L. Alan Russo

Roman spread the weed evenly across the blunt wrapper, and with surgical precision rolled the contents into a perfect doobie. With his hand, he wafted the aroma of the marijuana before he place it between his lips. Carlos, sat next to him, salivating at the size of the joint they created and were about to enjoy.

"This is gonna be good," Carlos said.

Roman popped a Zippo lighter open with the flick of his fingers. After a few tries, the flame erupted and lit the tail end of the wrapper. A thick pungent smell filled the small bedroom the two were in, as Roman took a deep drag from the blunt.

"Here," Roman said, and handed the joint over to Carlos. After a few seconds he exhaled the thick white smoke, as his brother hit the weed himself.

"Oh shit," Carlos said during his first attempt at a drag. "This is good!"

Roman stared through his stoned eyes at Carlos with a smiled and nodded.

After Carlos bellowed the white smoke from his lungs, he asked, "What kind is it?"

"Fruity Pebbles," Roman said, and took the joint back for another hit.

"Cool man! How did you afford to get that, isn't it like a thousand and ounce?" Carlos asked.

"It's more like Twelve Hundred," Roman replied and took another hit from the doobie. "Borrowed a little from Mad Dog."

"Mad Dog," Carlos exclaimed as he coughed and choked as the smoked exited through his nostrils and mouth. "You stole from our Dealer?"

"It's only stealing if you get caught, Bruh." Roman explained with a smile.

"No, if you get caught, you're DEAD!" Carlos said with fear that laced his words. "I don't wanna die over some damned Fruity Pebbles!"

Carlos paused for a moment and thought about his words, "I mean, that is some amazing shit."

"Right?" Roman stammered and handed the joint back to Carlos.

"NO!" Carlos replied, and handed the joint back to Roman. "Here! Here you take it! I can only imagine what would happen if Mad Dog walked in and I was smoking his weed without paying for it. No! No way!"

"Well, technically it was Dad's stash that he sales for Mad Dog for extra cash." Roman said while he took another drag from the fading blunt. "So we're in no danger, Bruh, we're good."

Carlos looked at his brother for a long moment with big blood-shot eyes and his mouth gaped wide open.

"What?" Roman asked casually.

"So, you put Mom and Dad's life in danger for a joint?"

"Well, technically it would be Dad's life," Roman answered. After a moment of internal thought, he continued, "Well, if Mad Dog was that kinda drug dealer, which I'm sure he's not… Well, for certain anyway…"

"What are you say, Roman?" His Brother yelled.

"What I mean to say is that Mad Dog was like hardcore, I mean, I would totally be hardcore… For sure, Bruh!"

"Jesus Christ in Heaven, what are you talking about?!"

"If he was pissed enough, he could kill us all. That's what I was trying to say, if you'd let me." Roman finally explained in a mono-toned voice. "So you might as well enjoy the weed if we're all going to die."

"Oh my God, I'm gonna die because you're an idiot," Carlos cried out. Roman looked at him with saddened eye, and hands him the rolled weed. "I can't I'm going to die a virgin."

"Bruh, T.M.I." Roman said jokingly. "Wait, what about that cute brunette with the glasses?"

"Nope." Carlos replied bluntly.

"But, she was all into your Kool-Aid, Bruh?"

"Her little bro, and friends took too much of her time. Who by the way cursed my existence." Carlos said with a sigh and lowered his chin to his chest in self pity.

"Which one? The little brother or the friends?" Roman asked as he took another hit off the almost completed joint.

"Both." He answered.

"Her loss, Bruh," Roman said with a goofy smile.

"No. Because your dumb ass, it could have been my only chance to get laid," Carlos said and took the joint from his older brother. With a deep drag, he continued, For weed, this shit smell really good!"

Carlos handed the joint back to Roman, who said, "I guess for over a grand an ounce, it better smell good."

"So, what are we going to do about Mad Dog?" Carlos asked.

"Meh," Roman said and shrugged his shoulders. "We could go on the run. Like that one TV show, we go on the lamb from city to city. Change our identities with every beautiful face we encounter. Until we're old and gray, and finally in the end prove our innocents to live our final years in peace."

"You're talking about The Fugitive," Carlos said and shook his head.

"Yeah, bruh, just like Dr. Richard Kimble." Roman said with another goofy smile. "Just like him, bruh. Do you think I can grow out a beard in time to shave it off to change my appearance?"


"Yeah, Bruh."

"The Fugitive is about a man framed for murder, and is on the run from the law." Carlos explained. "We would be on the run from a local drug dealer for stealing high grade weed. See the difference?"

Roman rubbed his chin in thought for a moment and said, "No. Sorry, I don't see it."

"The only possible solution to this problem is to tell mom and dad, what you've done." Carlos uttered to his brother.

"Me?" Roman exclaimed. "You smoked it too, Bruh!"

"Yeah, and I will take responsibility for that, but you stole the pot, man! You put all of us in this situation, not me, but you, Roman." Carlos rebutted to his brother. "You know that I love you, Roman, you're my big brother, but there is no way in Hell that I'm going down with you on this sinking ship."

Roman sighed, then said, "I love you too, Carlos."


That night the Roman and Carlos' parents returned from an evening out. The brothers knew it was there only chance to rectify their current situation was to fess up and accept their fate with a reasonable punishment.

The plain was to tell their parents that Roman had stole the weed, but both brothers partook of it's temptations. But, everything changed, while up in their room the boys heard, "Boys! Come down here!"

They knew it was a moment of truth.

"Here we go, bruh." Roman said then gave his brother a good-bye hug.

Carlos and Roman walked down the stairs as a death row inmate was being lead to execution. They found their mom in the kitchen, which they had all their cupboard doors opened. Upon the sight of her boys, she welcomed them with a smile. "You two look glum?"

"I have to tel—" Roman's mom interrupted him.

"Hold that thought. Before I forget why I called you guys down here, have you seen my baggy of potpourri?" The Mom asked while she continued to look in the cupboards.

The Brothers looked at each other confused, and in unison, "No."

"Huh. Well, it was a clear baggy with a label that said, Fruity Pebbles on it," Their mom said, and turned her attention back to them. "Your dad begged me to buy it for his man cave because it smells like the cereal he used to eat as a kid. So what were you going to tell me?"

Carlos looked at Roman with a look of discuss, and finally said, "Potpourri?"

Roman shrugged with another goofy smile.

"Idiot." Carlos said.



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