[For Dale] Magic plot
A couple of hours ago, Joe had woken up on the fucking ground outside some kind of big fucking cement building and he'd had no idea where the hell he was. That hadn't changed in the hours since then and Joe hadn't been able to find Billy or John or that fucking douchebag that Billy had somehow recruited to drum in the band, but he wasn't letting it bother him. He figured they'd all gotten wasted and Billy and John had left him somewhere and that they'd be back for him in a few hours. All he had to do was wait for the idiots and then give them shit once they got there.
After exploring the nearby area and finding both a keg of beer and a cigarette in someone's fucking hut, he was sitting on the steps of the building he'd woken up in front of, the unlit smoke dangling from between his lips. Every person who passed was rewarded with a deep scowl and every so often he even flipped them off, though most people seemed to be more concerned with some of their own personal shit. Not that Joe gave a fuck.
The one thing that he did give a fuck about was his apparent change in hairstyle. He didn't know when the hell they'd done it, but somehow the asshole had shaved off his mohawk and had done something to make his hair grow. It wasn't long, but it sure as hell wasn't what he was used to.
"The fuck are you looking at, asshole?" he snapped as someone left the building and headed down the path away from him. They didn't answer and Joe just scowled again, then leaned back against the building and wondered where he could get a razor, a lighter and maybe a cup for the beer.
After exploring the nearby area and finding both a keg of beer and a cigarette in someone's fucking hut, he was sitting on the steps of the building he'd woken up in front of, the unlit smoke dangling from between his lips. Every person who passed was rewarded with a deep scowl and every so often he even flipped them off, though most people seemed to be more concerned with some of their own personal shit. Not that Joe gave a fuck.
The one thing that he did give a fuck about was his apparent change in hairstyle. He didn't know when the hell they'd done it, but somehow the asshole had shaved off his mohawk and had done something to make his hair grow. It wasn't long, but it sure as hell wasn't what he was used to.
"The fuck are you looking at, asshole?" he snapped as someone left the building and headed down the path away from him. They didn't answer and Joe just scowled again, then leaned back against the building and wondered where he could get a razor, a lighter and maybe a cup for the beer.