Brick(s) of Cocaine

 

The south of Australia was hit by an arctic front in late May, early June. Through kitchen window, through blanket of 4mm/hr rain, over corrugated fence, Michael watched Ryan kneel amongst vegetation wilted to sodden ground that Ryan pounded with fist:

'My tobacco! My tobacco!'

Michael's focus withdrew to his reflection in kitchen window, sipping glass of water:

'At least he has something to do now.'

Kristy rolled sardonic eyes hidden behind unfolded Weekend Australian. Michael plonked onto couch with glass of Puratap and flicked through a dozen television channels at ~10 second intervals, settled on Bargain Hunt. It was a Natasha Raskin episode and Kristy bristled invisibly. They needed something to do. Lo, on page 3:

 

So why not cocaine? Kristy's heels itched as she broached the subject with a 'Heeey schmorkel poos?'. Michael read the article and Kristy recognised her own epiphany in his eyes. Hence followed an afternoon of brick pacing, chins in palms and fingers caging smiles, imaginations accelerated by a Concha y Toro Casilero del Diablo - Reserva Privada 2019 Carménère, hands tumbling mid-air to unspool trains of thought.

'What if we _______?'

'Then we could ________.'

'Then we could _______.'

Kristy and Michael had their three months couple's project. They shelved the idea of applying the Japanese scientists' methodology directly to the coca leaf because the coca leaf does not refrigerate well. They instead sourced cocaine from various suppliers and tested said bricks for additives. Each particular additive suggested a different pathway of chemical reactions to create a substance, of weight and tactility similar to construction bricks, which can also be ground and rehydrated (and then dried again via microwave) to make a passable cocaine hydrochloride. Michael and Kristy then figured out what food colourings replicated fired clay. They used the Japanese scientists' lacquer because fuck mice.

 

Now it is October. Michael and Kristy share smiles over brunch and dozen Bricks of Cocaine. Said bricks could technically be used for construction but are more suitable for discrete storage - instead of a drug stash in the space behind the loose brick, the drug stash is the loose brick. Also: 72% purity and a five year shelf-life.

Kristy sops egg-yolk with toast: 'So now what?'

Michael mangles grapefruit: 'Keep a couple, I 'spose, and sell the rest.'

Finishing Bloody Mary: 'Who do we know would pay the best price?'

'Hm.' Drying sticky hands. 'Maybe we put a rumour out, like on the local k-pop scene or something, see who comes to us.'

'Not here.' Crunching celery. 'We need a venue.'

Nathan's voice: 'Maybe I can help with that.'

'Fuck's -' Kristy clenches fists and teeth. '- sake.'

Michael turns wide grin: 'That shit never gets old.'

Nathan appears in the dining room entrance by shedding the Hi-Vis Invisibility Cloak that he won in a game of strip poker. Safe to say that Felicity has a woeful poker face.

Nathan has discovered a discrete location in which to commit black market dealings, within this realm but something of an Easter egg. Each Bunnings Warehouse, specifically the door handle aisle, usually has a sample line of door handles attached to a rail, so that customers may see and test said door handles as if they were installed, such as on a door. Pushing down on these door handles in a specific order (Satin Chrome Bailey Set, Matt Black Square Angular Passage Set, Stainless Steel Leno Passage, Satin Chrome Bailey Set, Satin Chrome Gala Passage, Satin Chrome Gala Passage, Satin Chrome Olive Passage Set) will open a door to a two metre by four metre courtyard which is on Bunnings' property but is not Bunnings' property, by Common Law. Nathan leases this courtyard to Kristy and Michael in exchange for a Brick of Cocaine.

So word is slipped to the street (or, rather, granny-flat speakeasies) and a long desk moved to the far end of the courtyard. Michael stacks a three long, three high cube of bricks on the table before standing right and behind Kristy, seated, with hand on her shoulder, all very family portrait. They hold this position for a minute and 43 seconds before their first customer arrives - a middle-aged man in trench coat and jeans that give him an almost neo-western aesthetic.

(An aside regarding the mechanics and origins of enchantments. Some enchanted items, such as the Fiery Pool Noodle of Mark, are the product of an enchantress transferring magical properties from one artefact to another. Other enchanted items, such as the Driver's Licence Photo of Todd, acquire their magical properties through esoteric energies channelled via ritual. Other artefacts, such as The Metal Chair, are the result of feats catching the attention of higher powers who need material for water cooler conversation. The last is relevant to the following product.)

Kristy: 'And you are?'

'Alexander Wong. My details are on the form I submitted.'

Michael pats pockets: 'So that was that thing.'

'Do we even -' Kristy, brief goanna eyes. 'Nuh, whatever, what are you offering?'

Alexander: 'A 10 Pack of Condoms of +4 Bureaucratic Efficiency.'

Michael unfolds paperwork: 'He, uh, he pleased the God of Bureaucracy by, uh, doing bureaucracy?'

Alexander spits tobacco: 'Two metre "In" pile. Two metre "Out" pile.'

Michael: 'How?'

'I'm good.' Smirking cocky. 'Also, cocaine.'

'Checks out.'

Kristy: 'So you pleased the God of Bureaucracy and they...'

Alexander, paperwork: 'Bestowed a +4 Bureaucratic Efficiency on the next thing I purchased. Condoms. Again, cocaine.'

'Checks out.'

Kristy looks to Michael with glance loaded with meaning: I can't use condoms, for obvious reasons. Michael returns loaded glance: paperwork makes my dick limp. But, like, if bureaucrats are a thing of yours? Kristy scrunches face: Ummmm. Nah, we're good.'

Michael raises apologetic hand: 'Sorry mate, we're going to have to pass.'

Very well, Alex spits bemused tobacco and leaves. Kristy and Michael doodle around on their phones for thirty-two minutes. Standing perpendicular to table with eyes down on the Wikipedia page for the 2021-present global energy crises, Michael catches new customers in his peripheral vision and texts Kristy: Them peeps gone fucked in turtle enclosure? Kristy snorts, covers it with a cough.

Indeed, it is Elise and Todd. Their Quetzalcoatl Feather side hustles brought them together and their being together, very publicly, shunned them from the Quetzalcoatl Feather game. They continued using their networks and skills to produce goods exchangeable on the esoteric shadow market - Todd is a cryptozoologist and  Elise is a zoological psychologist. Their own couple's project of late has been nursing a scaff gremlin alpha back to health.

Like the fire chicken, the scaff gremlin is the sterile cross breed of cryptids that only meet in Australia. On the mother's side is the skunk apes that stowed away on cargo containers of Floridian palm heart. On the father's side is the yowie, Australian native also known as bunyip, pangkarlangu or Greg, because it is just the one individual with the inclination and suave to sire an entire generation of creatures that look like gravelings.

Scaff gremlins are so named because of their nocturnal habit of assembling unattended scaffolding, which helps them catch moths. Todd had been remotely viewing this practice when an amateurishly secured transom fell on top of one of the scaff gremlins. Elise, standing right and behind Todd with hand on his shoulder, all very family portrait, suggested responsibility. Yeah, fair enough, it was Todd's drone that buped the scaffolding. They Ubered there and carried the thrice-swaddled scaff gremlin to their home.

It took three months for the scaff gremlin they named 'Mary' to heal a broken leg. Elise and Todd took turns in taking Mary out for short walks. They discerned that Mary is the rostrum's alpha and that it is the alpha's urine that marks scaffolding for assembling and gathers the usually disparate rostrum of scaff gremlins. By the time they released Mary back into the wild, a very 'get the fuck out of the cage it's been half an hour already' affair, they had a litre of Scaff Gremlin Alpha Urine.

Kristy: 'And you're hoping to trade this litre of urine for a brick of cocaine.'

Todd: 'We'll throw in a spray bottle because you can dilute it at ten-to-one. Then you just liberally spray scaffolding and leave it for the night.'

Michael: 'Yeah, uh, we don't want or need this urine.'

Nathan's voice: 'I want that urine.'

'Fuck's -' Kristy clenches fists and teeth. '- sake.'

Michael turns wide grin: 'That shit never gets old.'

Nathan appears at the far end of the table: 'Would you like the Hi-Vis Invisibility Cloak?'

Elise: 'No, we want a brick of cocaine.'

Michael sulks: 'I wanna' Hi-Vis Invisibility Cloak.'

Nathan: 'I have a brick of cocaine.'

'Wait.' Kristy's eyes pop hopeful. 'How about we give you guys cocaine for the urine and give you -' turning to Nathan '- the urine for the Invisibility Cloak?'

Michael: 'It's ok, porky-schmoos, I don't really want -'

Kristy ignores him: 'Deal?'

Everybody shrugs ok and goods are exchanged. Michael giggles and throws the Hi-Vis Invisibility Cloak over his head. His feet are still visible as he waltzes around the courtyard going 'woo-ooo, woo-OOOooo'. Todd and Elise leave discretely.

Nathan says to Kristy: 'Should I...?'

'How about you go dilute your urine?'

Exit Nathan. Michael gets bored with playing ghost in twenty-four minutes. Kristy kinda' wants to bone and laments that they did not buy those condoms, +4 Bureaucratic Efficiency or otherwise. Well, onto the next customer.

Liam saunters in with long steps matched by sways of arms bent 90° at the elbow. Folded over his shoulder is a brown faux-mink blanket.

Kristy frowns: 'There's a story here. There always is.'

'Yeah.' Liam's smile widen and he tilts his head back slightly. 'Last Saturday, I had a bottle of red and two stouts. Went to bed feeling ok and woke up vomiting in an hour. Most of it landed on the floor but also the curtains, walls, quilt, pillows bed sheets. But not this blanket. It was on top of the quilt.'

Kristy: 'Sooo blanket is magic? Stain dodging blanket?'

'If it wasn't before, it is now.'

Michael: 'I doubt magic. Just a fluke.'

Liam: 'How about I also throw in -'

Liam pulls, from within blanket, a clock. The hands move backwards, what would conventionally be called counter-clockwise. The numbers on the clock face are also reversed - the 11 is just right and below the 12. This clock therefore tells accurate time.

Kristy: 'That's fucking stupid.'

Michael is fascinated.