“I’m not getting anything,” Stephen Higgins frowned, as he continued pulling heavily on a bong filled with a special batch of new weed. “No?” wingman Francis ‘Francie’ Lenihan inquired dryly. “Then someone should tell your eyeballs man, cos they’ve rolled back in your fucken head like a shark!”
“I’m uh, naah,” Higgins said, a moment later as he slowly began to pass out on the sofa. “Mucho gracias hefe,” Lenihan replied, leaning forward to deftly pluck the bong from Lenihan’s hand, as he lost consciousness.
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” he cheerfully told his by then comatose friend, “because you know what they say? Today’s amateurs are tomorrow’s champions.”