Reefer Madness - The Morning After

[x-penance.livejournal.com]

Backdated to this morning. Mr. Hitch and Mr. Neary finally make their way to the camp, where the Decoy is waiting.



"I blame the trees." Mister Hitch said darkly as he pulled the now disheveled-looking sedan into the parking area beside the cabin grounds. The once-black car was covered in minute scratches, running on patched tires, suffering from scorch marks, and festooned with dried pumpkin guts. It could no longer be called black, and even the term 'paisley' was something of an overly-kind fiction.

"Do you think they had anything to do with it, Mister Hitch?"

"How so, Mister Neary? Did they magically grow enormous pumpkins unnoticed on a road into the camp? Start a fire barrier? Train hundreds of attack squirrels and wild dogs to eat our tires? No, Mister Neary. If I had the slightest suspicions that they had the ability to do such things, I would still doubt they possess the intestinal fortitude for such efforts. Unfortunately for them, if the crop is even an ounce short of what they promised, this series of unfortunate events has left me with the overwhelming urge for extreme violence." Mister Hitch stepped out of the car, and adjusted his suit, aware that the three men who were struggling to control their shaking knew that disposing of them merited no more consideration than using a highway rest stop.

"Uh, Mister Hitch. Nice to see-- uh, I mean. Well, seeing you is-- uh..." The Decoy stepped forward, his hand extended, but he retracted it slowly at the withering, bruised-eye gaze of Mister Hitch.

"You have our product, Daniel? My employer doesn't like to be kept waiting. Makes him unhappy."

"Makes us unhappy." Mister Neary confirmed, joining his partner.

"See, that's the thing. We, uh-- there was this fire, right, and it... well, it was supposed to be a controlled burn and-"

"Let me skip to the end of this monologue, shall I?" Mister Hitch interrupted. "This 'uncontrolled fire' happened to reach the area of the woods in which my employer's product was being grown, and by a freak accident, burned up the goods which he provided you funds for. Is this an accurate summary of the conversation that you are stumbling around having, Daniel?"

"Heavy. Mostly. I mean-- not entirely but--"

"You know, Daniel, that there are rules of civilized behaviour. The very term civilized arises from the Latin civilis, meaning 'of or pertaining to citizens', itself derived from civitas, or 'community of citizens'. The idea of course being that the only way to transition to a true progressive culture was to embrace the concept of the civic structure to allow for important elements such as science and art to emerge." Mister Hitch walked a slow circle around the quaking Decoy. "That means adopting rules, accepting laws, creating codes of conduct by which citizens would interact, and those that broke those laws were punished."

"It would be anarchy otherwise, Mister Hitch."

"Certainly, Mister Neary. Do you know what one of the very first elements that appeared in early civilization was, Daniel?" The Decoy only swallowed and shook his head. "The idea of credit. Oh, some think that it was the Romans that first pushed the idea to finance their empire, or the Greeks as part of their development of trade and mathematics, but the first true statement of credit goes back to the Ancient Mesopotamians, Daniel. As early as 2800 BC, a clay tablet was found detailing the bearer to be redeemed three sheep from a local pasture on presentation. Now, if that tablet was not honoured, the laws of possession break down. You get your black market dealing commodities at usurious rates. Monetary inflation. Hoarding and the lack of liquid capital to sustain trade and the local economy. Why, not honouring your debts is one of the first signs of a civilization that is about to break down."

"It is a tragedy, Mister Hitch."

"Too right, Mister Neary. You see, Daniel, the twenty-five thousand that we lent you in exchange for your product is a civilized act, where as your act to not honour it is one directly opposed; barbaric even. People like you help bring down whole worlds. We saw it with the Romans. We saw it with the Greeks. We even saw it with the Ancient Mesopotamians. But we're not going to see it happen to us, because of you." Mister Hitch pointed at the trunk. "Mister Neary, get the supplies. I think we'll start with Mister Kirkhope, before he makes another effort to collapse five thousand years of progress."

"Wait--!!" The Decoy stammered. "The fire wasn't our fault, but we can reimburse your boss. We've got the twenty-five thousand that he lent us, plus a few thousand extra for his trouble. I, uh-- I don't want to bring down society? I mean, yes, really-- I don't! Please accept the money and our apologies."

Mister Hitch paused, staring at him for a long while before dialing his phone. "Yes sir. No, they don't have your product. They claim the fires got out of control in the park and burned their growing area down. Yes, we've seen evidence of the fires. No, I don't imagine that they sold it to someone else. Well, I could do that, but they are offering to refund the loan you gave them, plus interest, if I don't. Yes. I can't imagine, but it is your decision. Yes. I will let them know."

Mister Hitch stashed his phone away. "Mister Neary, you can take the money and return to the car. Daniel, our employer feels that you are demonstrating good faith, even if you lived up to his belief that you are incompetents. We will not return, and I'd suggest that you do not source alternate buyers for your product. I did not enjoy my trip up here, and to repeat it would leave me in a very bad mood indeed."

He walked to the car, and got in, taking just one last look around before shaking his head and muttering as he drove off.

"Fucking trees."