Smoke and Wishes | stonerman

Stonerman: 9 Wishes Of The Wondrous Bubbler

Chapter 2: Smoke and Wishes

"What becomes of a wish once it's granted?"

Roger is dressed head to toe in eccentric aquarium merchandise as the I.M. High school bus departs behind him. He carries four plush aquatic animals, one for each member of the crew. This morning's field trip felt as if it had ended just as quickly as it began. There's no time to reminisce. His curiosity keeps him too distracted. 'Where did his friends go? Why would they bail on such an amazing field trip?'

Instead of first going home to change out of his school clothes as usual, Roger decides to check up on the Fort to see what happened earlier today. (As well as check on the situation of the stash.) For years it's been an after school tradition to meet in Steven's garage attic. Hopefully today is no different.

The garage door creaks open. Roger slinks inside, relieved by the familiar smell of sawdust and gasoline. He attentively examines the cluttered garage; old skateboards, magic kits, and a slew of hydrangea gardening equipment. Nothing unusual. Trying to remember back to this morning's wake and bake... 'Was the floor this messy earlier?'

Roger calms himself, a deep inhale through the mouth and a full exhale through the nose, the Fort's party lights shine through the closed entrance way. No super villain activity. Only the rowdy commotions of a good time. The sensational skunky scent brings further reassurance but raises an additional question. 'Did they pick up? This strain smells different...'

Roger's legs wobble around like jelly as the earth quakes beneath him. Splinters fly through the air as the plain wood walls split and crack, heavy tools crash to the ground. A bizarre gust of wind blasts from upstairs like a hurricane, the current rattles the ladder so violently that it almost rips right off its hinges.

Roger shouts into his wrist communicator...

"R.O.A.C.H. unit! Calling ROACH unit! We have a code tangerine in The Fort!"

The earthquake subsides but the damage to the garage is done. A drone-like assistance robot hovers inside, it's lasers armed and ready. Roger cautiously takes a step forward, arm extended out, his finger hovering above the firing key on his wrist communicator. Scanning the perimeter like a real life Buzz Lightyear. He knows that if an enemy had somehow found their hideout, it would be detrimental to the Chill Crew’s hero operation. No intruder is leaving this fort without a memory wipe.

He hastily leaps onto the rickety ladder. The ROACH Unit is already scanning the room as Roger pulls himself onto the shag carpet.

"Unknown individual identified. Fort access denied. Error. Unknown substance. Error. Multiple unknown substances. Error." The ROACH unit reports.

It appears that Roger's friends aren't harmed yet the sight of the wrist communicator remains hard locked on the levitating intruder who wears a dragon skull mask.

"What kind of trouble did you guys get into this time?" Roger asks under his breath.

"Engage?" The Drone interrupts.

Homer and Steven duck to the floor, taking cover. While Apollo casually sips on his Yo-ho-ho pirate chocolate drink. The Jihnn holds it's stomach, trying not to puke from all of this excitement.

"Wait!" Homer shouts. "Hold your fire."

Roger raises an eyebrow, he types a command into his wrist communicator.

"No signs of mind alterations." The ROACH reports.

"It's a genie!" Homer continues. "C'mon man, put the lasers away. I'm literally not high enough for this."

Roger holds a steady aim. His sight focused on the gem at the center of Jihnn's forehead, tucked in-between it's green eyes peering from inside the mask. 'Perhaps the stone is the source of this creatures power. '

"Well it looks evil as shit." Roger replies.

The Jihnn glances upward at the beam aimed at it's "head."

"~θ My appearance raises your guard? An interesting perception formed into a full fledged observation. Your mind is as swift as the lasers you've built, Roger. θ~" The Jihnn says, hovering closer. "~θ You see, this masque was crafted quite purposefully using the bones of a shadow dragon of which was conquered by I a millennia ago. The forgotten ones granted it the title, killer of the gods. θ~"

Homer perks up.

"~θ How else do you suggest I intimidate a god? θ~"

"Kagutuchi..." Homer mutters aloud without quite meaning to.

"~θ Ah yes. Though, I must clarify. My trophy is a smidge different from the one you've claimed, Stonerman. Your beast was infantile when it fell to your power. θ~"

Homer looks over at Roger, Steven, and Apollo.

"I did have some help... Names Homer by the way."

"~θ Forgive me. Stonerman is simply the more prevalent moniker throughout history. Though I sense the puzzle hasn't quite set into place. θ~"

Homer nods. He figured that'd be the case but had never heard it out loud nor with such certainty. He puzzles over this idea while Roger cautiously switches the ROACH from full assault into defensive mode.

"~θ I grant you each three wishes and a hundred-thousand thank yous. My past owners weren't nearly as cleansly with my bubbler. Hufgh. θ~" The Jihnn says on the verge of spewing chunks at the very thought.

Roger isn't as convinced as his friends, still toying around with his wrist communicator, attempting to decrypt the unidentifiable substances.

"How do you expect us to believe you're actually a genie? I'm going to need a more convincing confirmation. What's something only a genie can do?" He asks, staring at his wrist communicator.

Apollo and Jihnn let out a disappointed sigh.

"~θ Everyone expects a song and whirl. A Jihnn shindig. Allow I to up step it one further... Everyone, let's swing! θ~" The Jihnn says as it materializes an ancient saxophone out of thin air.

Sooth underground jazz. Sound waves emit from the bowl of the sax, a warm tempo steams up. Offbeat improvisations slowly abduct the room like ghostly space invaders. The Jihnn sneaking in a perfectly sloppy brushed snare backbeat with percussive chimes, accompanied by Gregorian chants that sound like they're echoing from the underworld. Sound waves bounce off the walls, glowing as vibrantly as the jellyfish at the Aquadome. Steven's garage attic has become a living daydream. The song is poppin' off and so is the crew. A soft melody enters Homer's mind.

"If life was a wish would you make it?

Your wish, our million mile desire.

A clocks tick becomes still.

A world on fire.

What is it to you?

A wish can change your world.

All you've been through.

Change your.

...Life is perception, wish for perception."

The music is overly ambiguous and simplistic. Rudimentary bass synth with uninspired rhythmic whistling.

"I think our first wish is pretty obvious." Homer says.

The Jihnn cocks it's head, the alluring music continues.

Roger cuts in...

"Choose your wording very carefully. Genies are like lawyers, they love word traps. Oh, and you can't bring back the dead or-"

"I wish for unlimited weed!" Homer shouts above the music. If there's any wish to put the Jihnn's abilities to the test, this seems like the most harmless yet fruitful.

The soft jazz continues. Nothing happens. Roger raises an immediate eyebrow while everyone waits, he's about to initiate another brain scan. Then geometric patterns dance from the sax. They surround Homer. Orbiting his body while they rip themselves apart and put themselves back together again. The music feels heavy, literally weighing down against his skin. He can no longer comprehend. Colors never before seen rush over him. His stomach queasy, fists tight, G-force overwhelms his body. Immense friction scrapes against his skin as he soars into a sea of color. Still trying to comprehend. The geometric shapes continue to dance and play. From a certain point of view, the patterns look almost tangible, like creatures, smiling, laughing.

Homer hasn't had an experience like this since when he first met Apollo, on the fateful day he gave up his smoking virginity. The day that Apollo just so happened to be toking on the only remaining weed of the gods left on earth. A strain of marijuana grown on Mt. Olympus that changed Homer's life forever. Giving him godlike abilities that reoccur anytime he consumes cannabis.

"Bee-wop. Di-do-dah." Sounds like Steven?

"Too sweet!" That has to be Roger.

Homer's eyes burst wide open. He finds himself in the same seat in the smoke circle. The Jihnn's song fades to an outro as Homer's wish comes true before his eyes. Mountains of bud burst from every stash container imaginable in the Fort. A flood of marijuana topples over both of the DVD and video game shelves. Green, purple, and orange nugs completely overtake an entire collection of steelbooks, hardcovers, and hard plastic Genesis cases. The crew up to their knees in sweet lady green.

"~θ These stash receptacles shall remain filled with the greenest of pearl buds. Not until Homer's life thread is cut will they run dry. θ~" 'The Jihnn says.

"Nice wish." Apollo chuckles with squinted eyes.

"Hmph. A waste if you ask me. Watch how it's done, fellas." Steven retorts. "I wish to be permanently stoned. I'm not talkin' a few puffs of some dank, mellow kinda stoned. I'm talking the feeling you get when you're ten life ending dabs deep. I want to feel more stoned than what's physically possible. The epitome of high. Believe me when I say I want to feel more supremely shnozzed than I have ever been in my life."

Steven's composure shifts the moment his mouth shuts. His chili red eyes weigh down his face, drooping like Huckleberry Hound. He sits slouched over, with disheveled hair and a goofy smile hanging from ear to ear.

"Whoah." Steven chuckles. "You guys feel that?"

"I never... You felt it too?.. -" Homer asks.

Steven looks left. He looks right. The kid is clearly out of it. He closes his eyes and laughs maniacally at his own thoughts.

"I'm pretty sure that wish-a-ma-bob like... Actually worked, and stuff." Steven mumbles.

The crew erupts into stoned laughter, except for Homer, with something clearly on his mind. The Jihnn opens Steven's Huey Lewis and the News lunch box, a tidal wave of bud shoots out like a beanstalk. So much weed that centuries ago it would've been considered an act against the gods. The Jihnn selects nine prime nugs then places them on the coffee table. It's translucent hand hovers above. With a snap of the fingers, two of the nugs disintegrate into dusty kief piles.

"~θ Two wishes down. Seven in wait. θ~" The Jihnn says.

Roger leaps right out of his seat as the realization hits him.

"Someone please let me have a wish!" he fumbles for his wallet. "I'll pay anything!!"

Everyone sits in silence. Apollo checks his phone to find a notification on his chess app. His sister, Artemis, has invited him to a game. Roger sighs...

"You guys have seven! You can't let me have one?" He pleads.

The Jihnn howls with laughter. Although it clearly cries with joy, it's mask leaves an emotionless appearance.

"What's so funny?" Roger asks.

The Jihnn relaxes and lets out a final chuckle, motioning for everyone else to remain calm down even though they aren't laughing.

"~θ What the ROACH Unit had just said. θ~" Jihnn sniffles, clearing it's throat. The idea of the joke makes it laugh even harder. "~θ I never knew a machine could have such comedic timing. θ~"

The motor of the ROACH hums softly.

"~θ Sure fire hilarious. Oh Sobek, forgive this machine. Where were we? θ~"

Roger studies the analytics on his watch. Jihnn plops onto a bean bag chair to join the smoke circle.

"~θ Apollo, you're on. θ~"

"Hmmmm... I have to make a wish right this second? Sounds suspect."

"~θ Not exactly. θ~" Jihnn answers. "~θ My curiosity is titillated is all. I've never had the opportunity to grant a wish for a god before. It's been done of course but not in this world. θ~"

"You don't even know what to wish for? That's it! Fifty dollars on the table for one wish, right now. Let's go." Roger says.

"I'll use em' when I need em'." Apollo counters.

"I suppose you're right." Roger sighs. "Someone's going to have to wish everything back to normal when this inevitably backfires."

Jihnn chuckles. "~θ Why worry? When something zigs, I'll be there to zag. In the end, it's your wishes that keep it all straight... Ya dig? θ~"

"I'll probably be the one that has to wish everything back to normal." Homer says with a sigh.

"~θ Seems like you cats still have a few provisos to work out. θ~" Jihnn says. "~θ I have a few things to work out for myself inside of my bubbler before my first high in sixty years wears off. Smoke em’ if you need me. θ~"

"Wait! I still need to make my wish!" Steven shouts.

"~θ What will it be? θ~"

"Uhhhhhh...."

"~θ You can always summon me at a later time. θ~"

"No. I know what to wish for."

"~θ Yes? θ~"

"I wish... For, um..." Steven glances at Roger's aquarium t-shirt. "To... To talk to fish. Yeah, that would be pretty chill."

The Jihnn grants Steven's second wish.

"And you gave me crap about wasting my wish?" Homer says.

"Oh. It will come into play later, just you wait." Steven replies.

"~θ Okay then- θ~"

"What's it like in there? Inside the bubbler, I mean." Homer wonders.

The Jihnn points at a movie poster hanging on the slanted wall, 'Godzilla vs. King Kong vs. Pacific Rim.'

"~θ Once you're able to explain to Kong over there what it's like to experience 'depth' in the third dimension then perhaps you'll give me an idea on how to explain the contents of my bubbler to you. θ~"

"Are we supposed to like, wish you free from the bubbler or something?" Homer continues.

"~θ Where are these strange ideas coming from? θ~" Jihnn snarks. "~θ I'm free to do as I choose. Of all the places to hide away, I've found the best gig. Without a doubt. It's my own universe that I wished into existence. My secluded paradise which took over one hundred thousand years to complete. θ~"

"So, you're free, yet have to hide away? From who?"

"The gods." Apollo interrupts.

"~θ Precisely. Now if I may, this buzz won't last forever. You know how to best attract my attention. θ~"

The Jihnn evaporates into glistening dust and soars into the mouthpiece of the magic bubbler. The Chill Crew turns to Apollo for answers.

"Eh. The gods believe they’re the only ones worthy to receive wishes but always wish for fucked up stuff. I'm talkin' some wildly sick stuff. So for obvious reasons, the wishing gods broke away from Mt. Olympus and became a new kind of god entirely, calling themselves, the jihnn."

"Genies existed this whole time and you never told us?" Roger asks.

"I was told they were killed off forever ago. But hiding away in a bubbler makes more sense, I guess. That's what I would do." Apollo answers. "Uh, we're definitely packing this magical kief, right?"

Homer and Roger nod. Steven stares off blankly with his mouth involuntarily hanging open.

"What do we do now?" Homer asks.

Apollo tops off the bong. The ROACH unit descends into sleep mode, landing beside a pile of old comic books and board games. Mostly Risk variants and a few expansions of Arkham Horror.

"Aren't we smoking this kief?" Apollo replies. "Should I whip out the gas mask?"

"Besides that."

Everyone shrugs. Homer retrieves a portable gaming handheld from his pocket, immediately glued to the screen. Roger rolls a king sized joint, he hasn't been able to use king sized papers in some time. Steven sways back and forth, drifting in and out of consciousness, convinced that he's currently experiencing the dream realm. As the silence builds, every creek and crack of that old attic can be heard. Then, the strike of a lighter.

"Hmph." Roger begins. "Maybe we could head back to the Aquarium? Being high this time around would totally change the experience. And just imagine with how baked Steven is!"

Roger slaps his knee, chuckling at the very idea of being that high in public. Although he knows Steven has mastered the art of being functionally stoned around people, an art form he calls, "incogblazedo." However, Steven is too belligerent to coherently respond on the matter. Instead, he appreciates the wafting citrus scent that fills the air from Apollo's smoke cloud.

"We'd only be there for an hour before they close up." Apollo coughs. "This stuff is flame as hell. Glad the Jihnn didn't give us mids or some shit."

Homer places his gaming portable onto his lap then grabs the bubbler from Apollo.

"Maybe we can go to the Cosmo-Plex?"

"Quests At Sea Episode 9 is out. They promise to get it right this time." Roger says.

"The sequel trilogy is creatively bankrupt. I'll stick to the classics." Apollo replies.

"I'd rather see, 'Attack of the Green-Screen' anyways." Steven says with his eyes closed.

The rotation is on Steven, but he isn't reacting. Homer peers through the hotbox at his hunched friend. 'Is he awake? Could he have passed out so quickly after just speaking so coherently?' Not even the sound of a lighter gets a reaction, Homer is now certain that his friend is unconscious. So he instead passes the bubbler to Roger.

"How about we try the Astralcade?" Roger says.

"Did they get any new games?" Apollo wonders.

"No." Roger sputters. "Damn. If I keep smoking, I'll end up on Steven's level... I can't help but wonder what kind of powers this potency level will give Stonerman?"

"You guys skipping me!?"

Everyone looks over at Steven who hasn't changed his drowsy expression once in the past two minutes.

"Did you say something, Steven?" Homer asks.

"Guess I don't deserve a hit. I see how it is."

"Sorry, I thought you were asleep. With your eyes being shut and all."

"My eyes have been open this entire time, dude." Steven motions to his face, forcing his eyes open as wide as they can go, which is a squint at best. His arrogant facial expression implies that it should've been obvious.

"Sorry." Roger passes the bong and lighter to Steven. "You guys wanna play a game of Risk? There's only four games left on our legacy play through."

"Eh. By the time we set up and get ready, it'll be time for bed. I'm not leaving that board unattended for a second." Apollo lays out.

"Zzzzzzzzzz."

"Besides. Steven is unfit for play." Apollo adds.

"That'll make it easier for us! We won't have to deal with his stupid middle out compression." Roger pleads.

"No. A legacy play through is too important. There can be no excuses for any of the outcomes." Homer says.

"Fine." Roger says in defeat. "The corn maze is in town. Sunset is the perfect time to get those fall feels."

"It's the same maze every year." Apollo argues.

"Ugh. What do you guys wanna do?" Roger asks.

"What happened to the rotation?" Apollo scratches his head. "Steven sure does love boondoggling the bubbler."

Steven bobs his head. It looks almost painful for him to speak.

"I need a fridggen lighter, pissant." He mumbles.

"You're already holding one!" Apollo retorts.

"Where?"

"In your left hand, dude!" Apollo says.

"Will he ever sober up? Even a little bit, I mean." Roger asks.

"This is Steven now."

"How about we watch some TV?" Homer suggests.

Roger and Apollo nonchalantly agree, their gaze on Apollo's cellphone as Artemis make her next chess move. Everyone still waiting on Steven to roast so the rotation can continue. Instead, he slouches over and the bubbler spills dirty water onto his crotch.

"What should we watch?" Homer continues.

"She can kiss her rook and two pawns bye-bye." Roger whispers to Apollo.

It seems the choice is all Homer's. He spins the turn dial until landing on the classic comedy channel currently playing, "Ernest Goes to Jail." The perfect comedic thrill-ride that hits just right when stoned to the proverbial bone. Until, the broadcast is interrupted...

*BREAKING NEWS*

"America's #1 top rated news reporter is on the scene-"

Homer switches the dial to the next best channel. A mystery thriller called, "Ernest Goes Existential." A bit predictable until the iconic twist ending. Nice.

*BREAKING NEWS*

"America's-"

As a last resort, Homer turns to the real world drama channel. Episode three of a twelve part miniseries titled, "Ernest Onscreen Diarrhea: What Went Wrong?" At least it's better than the news. This will do for now.

*BREAKING NEWS*

"America's #1 top rated news reporter is on the scene. The Nobel peace prize winning, charismatic symbol of hope. Your beloved television reporter, Ackmed Obama."

"The king of 'hot stuff' is here, reporting on the scene. The hostage scene to be precise. It appears by association of having a gun pointed at my skull, I have been promoted to a hostage position live on national television. In this time I must thank my family and perhaps more importantly our viewers. Without your support, I would not be standing here today. An honor impossible to express with coherent words." Ackmed reports. "Instead, I express myself through the following report. This just in. Today our collaborating capture is brought to you by the Pesky Pinchman. Which I have been lead to believe is a hostage for hire service, whom has provided us the following message. Roll ze video footage!"

The camera zooms in on the perpetrator. He never has any money to throw down for weed but he's more than willing to freeload off of yours and right now he's got a gun pressed against Ackmed's temple. This heavyweight b-villain wears a faded lime green Halloween costume covered in various bells so his victims will know whenever he's nearby to pinch from their stash. The logic behind that doesn't matter because no one can escape the reach of his pinching fingers.

[ROLLING ZE FOOTAGE]

{🎶 "My morals disappear when the reefer is near. I'll do anything for a high, I'll murder, steal, or lie. Prostitute my soul for a toke that's how bad I needs a smoke!" 🎶 end.}

Achmed signs off with swagger...

"Every television and radio broadcast has been hijacked. Ze cry of the Pinchman will air on repeat until his ransom is met. One puff is all it will take for this to stop."

Roger types an access code into his wrist communicator. The Fort's surveillance equipment boots up, the manhole entrance-way locks shut, and a special drawer on the television shelf opens to reveal stoner superhero armor. The costume of Stonerman.

"Do I have to?" Homer sighs. "Bud Buddy usually takes care of this kinda thing."

Bud Buddy... Aka, Steven, sits slumped, mouth draped, and crotch drenched. His deep snores cover the Pinchman's song playing on repeat in the background. Even if he were awake, he's never done battle this belligerent and everyone knows it. So instead, Homer reluctantly dons the green and purple domino mask giving him the new persona of Stonerman.

"Well, I guess I'll go take care of..." Stonerman glances at the television screen. "The Pesky Pinchman."

On his way out, Stonerman pockets a handful of weed from the mountain of bud protruding from Steven's lunch box.

"Yeah. I should get going too." Rogers says.

He shakes his unconscious friend.

"Steven? Wanna go inside?"

Steven grumbles something incomprehensible. His heavy arm points past Apollo to a forest green hammock hanging in the corner.

Apollo's phone vibrates. A message from Artemis that reads, "Checkmate :3"

"Now's not the time for the emergency hammock. You'll sleep straight through school in that thing. Speaking of which, do you want me to swing by in the morning, to wake you up?" Roger offers.

"I don't think I can go down the ladder, man." Steven says with a heavy voice.

"You're really that baked?" Roger asks.

"No... There's freakin' snakes down there."

"Snakes?" Roger pokes his head down below. "No snakes down here!"

"What in the hell do you call that!? Have the R.O.A.C.H scan the room. I don't trust it down there."

"That's an inner tube for your bike. Let's go. Apollo you coming?"

"Then why's it hissing at me?"

"Eh. Someone's gotta finish off this bubbler Steven was babysitting. Gotta keep it clean, right?" Apollo answers.

"Which ladder should I use? I don't remember there being this many options." Steven interrupts.

"Alright. Have a good night man. Catch ya tomorrow." Roger says.

Roger guides Steven towards the ladder, he assists him down every rickety step. Apollo perks up an ear, he listens as the garage door slams shut downstairs. He tops the wondrous bubbler with the magical kief. It takes more than a few tokes to summon the buzzed Jihnn.

"~θ Apollo? θ~"

"Jihnn. For my first wish, end my banishment from Mt. Olympus!"

Chapter 3: A Whole New World

"A stranger in a strange land walks into a bar..."

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