Derek was walking through downtown Jacksonville at midnight. He’d seen the XWF Anary results and he knew his top customers had gotten their asses kicked, as usual, and he figured that meant they’d be hitting him up sooner rather than later.

He’d probably made ten grand selling painkillers to these two kids since they were in middle school and he had been dating their mother.

He laughed to himself at the thought of Tiffany. He should give her a call. That woman did things with her tongue that should be in the Bible.

Anyway.

Derek checked his phone. Sure enough it was getting blown up by texts from both kids.


YO WE GOT FUCKED OVER WE GONNA NEED THAT GOOD SHIT


HOMIE JUST MEET US AT THE AIRPORT IN THE AM WITH A FAT BAG OF LORTABS


GONNA ZELLE YOU THE MONEY RIGHT NOW MAKE SURE WE DON’T GOTTA WAIT SHOVEL


Shovel. Like “Pill Shovel.”

That was the nickname Derek had gotten on the streets back in the 90s when he started out slinging pills he’d buy off of old folks who needed grocery money. He tripled the price and sold them at schools because dumbass kids didn’t know any better  and thought it made them look cool to pop any sort of prescription into their mouths, even if it was just blood pressure medicine. They had no idea.

Derek had met the boys that way at first, years later, and through them he met Tiff. Once they started hooking up regularly, he would even often steal back the pills he’d sold to the twins earlier in the day and convince them that they must have eaten them already - then he’d sell them to them again. The morons were a gold mine.

He sucked his teeth. He’d need to call up Anthony to get the goods. Anthony - “Tony Percs” to the neighborhood - was like the Fort Knox of pills. The guy had stage three lung cancer and was using it to just get scripts filled from every doc in town. Florida invented the pill mill, after all. This shit was a cottage industry down here. Everyone knew Anthony was dying and they just signed his refills without batting an eye. Why bother, they figured, worrying about a guy taking too much medicine when he was dead either way? Might as well ease the fucker’s pain, right?

Except the pain getting eased was the pain of every teenaged asshole in Duval County who needed a few vicodin to get a blowjob from a cheerleader, or some GHB to feel her up whether she wanted it or not.

Anthony just wanted to deal. He didn’t even give a shit about the money. He had some stupid fantasy about being the drug lord of North Florida, so he just funneled the goods to Derek and let Derek keep 70 percent of the bread.

Derek’s pocket buzzed. He took a deep breath as he saw the name on his phone screen upon taking it from his pants pocket.

“What time?”

He didn’t really want to spend any more time than necessary talking to these guys.

“Yooooooooooooooooooooo what the fuck is up, Pill Shovel? Bro can you believe they fucked us like that on Anarchy? Stupid fuckin’ midget bro. Little ass arms can’t break up no pinfall. But fam you best believe we still got all sort of pussy after the show. These Kentucky bitches ain’t got no daddies at home but now they got two twin daddies in the XWF you feel me?”

Ugh.

“I need to know what time you’ll land if you want me to meet you there.”

“So anyways, we got a flight back to Jax in the morning, then right back out a day or two later to Silent Hill, wherever the fuck that is.”

“Pennsylvania.”

“We wanna  be fucked UP the whole time we down there, Shovel. We need it all. Percs, Vics, Dillys, and enough Viagra to keep the two biggest dicks in Duval rock hard for every trick and hoe in town to get a turn. We got a big match on Spooky Savage with the X-Treme Champion in it. And one of us is gonna win that shit. Me or bro can pin that weak fuckboy Johnny Bitchus no problem. Plus his mom’s a hoe so she will probably get spit roasted by us after the show. He got some sad emo partner but whatever, it’s all about the belt. There’s some dumb gimmick to the match too but I forget what it is. Probably nothing dangerous or nothin’ though, so no sweat.”

Derek really had no idea what this kid was talking about at this point. He had been holding the phone away from his head for the last couple minutes.

“My man, can you just give me a time? I need to stock up.”

“Bro chill out, I’m getting there. Imagine how dope it’s gonna be when we got that strap though? Can you imagine all the ass we can get? I’m gonna nut all over that belt and let bro nut on it too then get some bitches to snort those lines of nut up like cocaine. Dumb bitches will do whatever you want if you got a little fame and in the XWF there ain’t no one with more rizz than the X Champ. I hope Johnny Bacchus got a girl too so we can get her pregnant.”

“Okay, man, I gotta go. Just text me the time, okay?”

"Hold up lemme tell you about the giant shit I took after the show. Had to been five pounds, easy. Probably what was keeping me slow in the ring…”

Derek hung up the call and then hung his head also. Maybe he should have tried to be a father figure of some sort for these boys. Made sure they got better grades or whatever. Instead of just letting them watch their deadbeat dad wrestle on TV and pretend they were going to be big time ring stars to show him up.

He took a few breaths and then picked the phone back up again, swiping through the contacts until he landed on the one he wanted.

“Tony. It’s me. I need to grab some product. The cash cows are coming in the morning, I can make a big score for the weekend; Yeah. No, they land tomorrow morning. I don’t know what time yet. You need e to wait til morning then? Alright. Alright that’s fine. Yeah. Peace out.”

Derek disconnected from the call. Now he needed something to do until morning. If Tony wasn’t going to be ready for him until dawn, and the shitheads were going to land not too long after that, he couldn’t waste time sleeping.

Luckily he had an idea.

Once again, he pulled his contacts up and scrolled through, all the way down to the Ts.

“Sup Tiff. Yeah it’s D. You busy? Yeah? You want a little company? Word.”

What? Were you expecting some sort of good guy story here? Derek is a drug dealer. He’s not a good person.

After getting off the phone, Derek turned around in the direction he’d been walking from, headed toward what was going to keep him busy for a few hours.

---

American Airlines flight number 3688 - somewhere over the Southeast.


MC C-Munqqquee and his twin brother Li’l Ca$h-App are sitting side by side as the redeye flight soars through the skies above Tennessee.

“Bro I dare you to raw dog that stewardess in the bathroom before we land.”

“Bro wtf do you think I was doing when I went back there before? I knocked the bottom out that pussy. You could tell she never had a dick like mine before.”

“That ain’t true because I had that bitch bent over right after we got on the plane, bro. Gave her all fourteen inches of this meat. So I know she was loose as hell by the time you got there.”

“Naw bro that shit must have snapped back into shape like a mouse trap, but you know after getting drilled by us both that cootchie ain’t shit anymore.”

“Hell yeah, good job bro. Great dick game you got.”

“You too bro.”

They sit nervously in silence as the flight attendant arrives again and asks if they need anything to eat or drink. She eventually gets tired of waiting for one of them to answer her and leaves to take care of other passengers.

“She wants more of that thickdick, bro.”

“No doubt, no doubt.”

“Yo bro I cannot wait for Spooky Savage. It’s gonna be twice as sweet as that tight stewardess pussy we both definitely fucked and nutted into today. Because one of us is gonna be the X Champ.”

“Bet. Hope it’s you, bro, you deserve it.”

“Nah bro you deserve it.”

“You know who don’t deserve it though, bro? Johnny Buttcheeks or whatever the fuck his name is. He ain’t shit. Wasn’t shit in Action Wrestling either. Who he beat over there? Lissie Hope? She’s sorry. Madman? Probably got a tiny dick, you can tell when someone got that small dick energy. No way he can be tough in the ring with a little dick like that. Dionysus? He sucks and probably has AIDS. But you and me? Not only are we totally STD free we are also the baddest tag team in the whole world right now. We got CULT stressing on us hoping we come sign up so we can put the tag gold on the map for them. We got WGWF drooling over us. Plus we got half the bitches on Twitter on our side hoes list. We can’t lose, bro, we are too good at wrestling and also definitely at sex both vaginal and oral.”

“Bro I hear you. Everyone already knows we sling fuckmeat like nobody else can, but now they can watch it happen in real time when we bust open Johnny and his dumb partner whoever he is, then bust a nut on that X-Treme Title. I would tell the people at ringside to get us some rubbers but I know you and me are both allergic to latex so we literally have no option other than nutting inside a girl because there is simply no other alternative.”

“I stealthed that stewardess bro she thought I had a jimmy cap on.”

“Bro that’s so funny I did the same thing. Bitch got creampied just like Johnny Buttfuck is gonna get on Spooky Savage.”

“Yeah bro and his dumb partner who sucks and probably is a virgin. Not like us because we have sex all the time.”

“Yeah like literally all the time except for right now.”

“Yeah.”

The flight goes on and the Twinzz settle in to watch Mr. Beast videos.

---

Jacksonville, Florida

9 am.



“Tiff I got to go. I told you, Tony is waiting for me.”

Derek buttons his jeans and fires up a 305 light, pushing his feet into his shoes by the front door.

“Yeah whatever. Leave again like you always do.”

“Tiffany, chill. You knew what this was when you answered the phone.”

He drags on the smoke, tossing his tee shirt over his bare shoulder and heading for the exit.

“Fuck you.”

He spins on her. No one pushed his buttons as easily as she did.

“Fuck you too. You being a shitty mom is why those kids of yours are flying across the country just to get wasted.”

“Get the FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

Tiffany shoves at Derek, slapping and punching his chest. She slaps him across the face, knocking the cigarette out of his lips.

“Fucking cunt.”

He grabs her by the wrists and pushes her backward, hard, so that she slams into her wall. The trailer shakes, sending some empty beer cans tumbling off of the kitchen sink and onto the floor.

“I shouldn’t have called you. Psycho.”

Derek slams the door open and jumps down the three steps to the grass below.

Heading across the highway, Derek walks at a fast pace while trying to light up another smoke. He heads down through the overgrown roadside, getting sandspurs and sticky pods all over the legs of his pants, but eventually he reaches the next trailer park over. The one Anthony lived in.

Derek walks down the unpaved road inside the park and goes past the cluster mailboxes and the community dumpster. Finally he comes to a single wide with an old BMX bike leaning up against the side and he knocks on the door.

Tony Percs swings the door open with a toothless smile.

“Right on time as always. You wanna beer?”

“Yeah. I didn’t have any breakfast. I ended up fucking Tiffany again and you know how she gets the morning after.”

“Shit, Deke, you need to leave that crazy bitch in the rear view. Here.”

Tony tosses a can of Busch Light to Derek, who cracks it open and starts guzzling away.

After a second, Derek belches and wipes his mouth with his forearm.

“You got the shit?”

“Of course I got the shit. What, you don’t wanna hang out? Come in, kick back. I got a porno on.”

It always got awkward at this part. Derek had known for a long time that the real reason Tony was so generous with his meds was because he had an attraction to Derek.

One time after doing a couple dilaudids together, Derek had woken up with Anthony sucking on him. He let it happen. He finished. But Derek wasn’t into guys. He didn’t know what the fuck that meant, but he knew he didn’t want to put himself in that kind of a position again.

“I don’t have time, Tony. Come on. Gimme the pills.”

“Yeah you don’t never have time until you need Tony to hook you up. Then you got time.”

“It ain’t like that Tony, come on.”

“Yeah it is.”

They just stare at each other in silence for a long, heavy moment. Derek’s skin is already covered with beads of sweat from the morning Florida sun.

Tony tuns and grabs a large Ziploc bag full of pills, and he tosses it as Derek.

“I’m just fuckin’ with you, man. Be easy.”

“I’ll call you later on, Tony. Gators are playing Georgia, you wanna go to Hooters to watch it?”

Tony smiles.

“Yeah man. Chomp chomp. Now go make that money.”

They shake hands, and Derek the Pill Shovel walks off to get back to his own trailer a few streets down.