Hot, Mild, or Fire?

Gordon and Jaime left who, as far as Gordon was concerned at this moment in time, the love of his life.

"Alright," Jaime mustered through his stoned excitement, "you done this before, yeah?"

"Absolutely not, sir," said Gordon, "What am I in for? I mean, you know, I've heard stories and what not, but really mate... what am I in for?"

"How about we go find a clearing so you can endure the initial shock."

"Shock my ass! What have you done to me?"

"Just shut the fuck up and come with me."

The two found their way to a sandy clearing devoid of as much chaos as was ensuing in the presence of the masses. Jaime and Gordon sat down, one across from the other, and each lit up a cigarette and began discussing.

"Alright Gordon. So I'd say we dropped about fifteen or so ago, so here's what's about to go down. You're going to trip balls. Your stomach will begin to feel a little flighty, but ignore it. It's normal. Be prepared to see what music looks like."

"Um... alright I guess. Let the good times roll."

The flat, golden sand seemed to stretch on for miles. What was going on in the festival no longer seemed to matter. A sensation of floating entered Gordon's body as Jaime was laid down, face first in the sand, laughing his ass off. Just as the trip was coming on, a stranger wearing a Taco Bell hat approached the two and asked if it was alright if he took a seat. The two obliged, and allowed the stranger to join them.

"So what kinda car do you have?"

"What the fuck dude?" said Jaime as he turned over, spitting out a mouthful of sand.

"What kinda car do you have? I drive a pretty nice car."

"You are car guy," said Gordon, attempting to refrain from laughter as much as he could. His pupils were dilated the size of small marbles, the trip was there.

"Yeah, I like my car," said car guy, busting out of his pocket a jagged crack pipe quickly lighting, inhaling, and exhaling his chemical poison.

"Dude, that's not cool," said Jaime, also barely able to contain his laughter, "So what's with the Taco Bell hat?"

"Well, I work at Taco Bell. I work in the drive through, man, it's great. I get to see so many great cars."

At this precise moment, Gordon and Jaime erupted in laughter, barely able to survey this odd character in the middle of the desert.

"Well dude, we're barely coherent ourselves so it's our guess that you're not as well. But these folks have a rule when new people come about, so it is now your duty to tell us a story."

"Oh great, man, I'm going to tell you a story about my car. It's a nice car."

"Well, tell us about your car, mate," said Gordon through muffled chuckles.

I have a pretty great car, I like it a lot. I was working drive through one day and this guy rolls up with this silver car, so I asked him what kind of car he had because it looked so much like mine, it really did, and I was so excited. He told me it was a silver Elantra and I was so impressed. My car is about a grade lower than his was, but still, I love my car. I drove it all the way here, actually. There were two other people in the car and they had a pretty big order of burritos and potatoes, which I'm usually n-not too happy about, but it was okay because they were in such a great car. S-so I took their credit cards to pay for all the food and I was like... alright guys, any hot, mild, or fire sauce? And this girl asked for a ton of fire sauce, she was so rude. But it was okay because th-they were in such a great car. I gave them plenty of fire sauce and heard them laughing so hard at me as they drove away. I guess I'll never ask about what kind of sauce anyone wants again.

"WOAH," said Gordon, apparently deriving some kind of deep meaning out of the nonsense spewed before him, "It's all about the sauce."

"The sauce is damn right," said Car Guy, "you can't f-fuck up the sauce."

Car Guy takes another hit from his busted pipe, accidentally cutting his lip in the process and a wave of blood ran down his chin.

"WHAT THE FUCK!!! WHAT THE FUCK!! WHAT THE FUCK!" said Gordon, perturbed the the state of affairs involved with his lip.

"Chill man, chill, calm down, and chill," said Jaime, knowing that one little freak out such as this could turn a good trip bad in nanoseconds, "I think it's time you leave, dude. You've got him on a soap box about sauce, you're bleeding all over the place, and this is the kid's first time tripping his ass off."

"You still didn't answer my question, though," said Car Guy.

"Get fucked, is the answer, dude."

And car guy got up and walked away.