Savages

165

Gary is the grower at this house out in the eastern part of Mission Viejo near the hills, a nice bespectacled twentysomething bio-geek who discovered you could make a lot more money with a lot less hassle creating designer dope for Ben than teaching Botany 101 to a bunch of freshmen who don’t want to learn about it in the first place.

“Is it ready to go?” Chon asks Gary.

“It is,” Gary affirms, frowning. Gary is not happy about selling his fine, sophisticated labor of love over to the BC, whom he considers uncouth corporate barbarians incapable of appreciating the nuanced tones of this particular blend.

“Take the night off,” Chon says. “We’ll handle it.”

“Really?” Gary asks, grateful.

“Go on, you knucklehead,” Ben says. “Get out of here.”

Gary gets out of there.

An hour later, the BC pickup boys arrive.

Quick transaction.

Cash for dope.

They wait a few minutes after they leave, then Ben says

“Stick ’em up.”

Then, “Oh yeah … this is a robbery.”

“Cut the shit.”

But Ben is on a roll. “Down on the floor. No mistakes, no one gets hurt. Don’t anyone try to be a hero, and everyone goes home to their wife and kids.”

Chon says, “Enough.”

Ben gets on the phone to Alex and says he has a problem.