Work Text:
An odd combo of people sat before laid out supplies for smoking: Mejiro Palmer, TM Opera O, Symboli Rudolf, and Sigmund Freud. The four chatted amongst themselves on what to do and who should start.
“I think we should do rock paper scissors,” Palmer said.
”The greatest and most beloved UmaMusume should go first,” Opera O said.
”And who may that be?” Freud asked.
Rudolf sat in silence, analyzing the group in front of her. She didn’t know how she ended up in this predicament, but she’ll see how things would pan out.
”Agh whatever! I’ll go,” Palmer exclaimed. She grabbed the herb grinder and dug through the bag of bud. She couldn’t read what it said, but it said “hybrid”. Moving in slow deliberate circular motions, she grinded the weed into fine pieces. Now what to do next? When she moved onto the cigar, Rudolf was already splitting it and removing the tobacco. Thank Goddesses, Palmer was nowhere near coordinated or meticulous to do something like that.
“Interesting! What a delicate and refined process,” Freud said. “I suppose the ‘greatest and most beloved’ title goes to Ms.Mejiro and Ms.Symboli?”
”Nonsense! Those two may be great. However, I, TM Opera O reigns supreme as the greatest!” Oh brother.
Palmer and Rudolf continued to do all the heavy lifting while Opera O and Freud attempted to speak on the same wavelength. It seemed Freud was slowly trying to dissect her mind. Little by little, he figured out, well, nothing. She was truly an enigma to human kind. Did she even classify as human? He pondered what it even meant to be human.
Palmer and Rudolf said, “Finished.” Beads of sweat were formed on Palmer’s forehead. Was this truly stressful, or was she just a sweaty kind of guy? Whatever, the point was that the blunt was finished. Lighting it was all that’s left.
Psst
The lighter clicked a few times before it lit up. Palmer decided to be the first to go. It was her reward. After all, her and Rudolf did all the heavy lifting. She held the blunt in her mouth and the tip of it began to smoke. Here goes nothing.
She took a deep inhale as if she’d done this a million times before. Just who was she? Did she get into hijinks with the other gyarus? It seemed plausible. Palmer was always a sucker for giving into peer pressure. She learned a lot of things during her time with the others. Daitaku Helios, who she totally wasn’t in love with, was the first one to introduce her to the world of gyaru. Whether that was for better or worse was still up in the air.
Anyways, Palmer didn’t feel anything yet, but that was to be expected. She passed it to TM Opera O with a pinch of hesitation. This seemed like a terrible idea, but it should be fine. Worst case, they carve Opera O’s face into Mt. Rushmore as the fifth head. Which was fine, because fuck America, right? We shouldn’t get political here, so ignore what I, the narrator, just said.
Opera O coughed after a baby inhale like a pussy. She gave some big talk for someone who couldn’t handle a bit of weed. As she coughed, Freud grabbed the blunt from her and puffed it as if it were a cigar.
”Freud-san, you’re supposed to inhale and hold it in your lungs,” Palmer said. Rudolf took a mental note. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Freud blushed and passed the blunt to Rudolf. She analyzed the blunt before pressing it to her mouth and taking a sharp inhale.
”Wait, I know it’s a bit late, but none of you have herpes right?” Rudolf asked.
”60% of the world has herpes, Ms.Symboli. It wouldn’t be unusual if all of us had the virus,” Freud said.
“I don’t have it.” Palmer shook her head.
”I, the Overlord, would never fall to the class of the common folk that is the 60%. Therefore, I, too, do not have herpes.”
”Everyone thinks that,” Rudolf said laughing and passing the blunt to Palmer. She took another inhale with a slight tremor to her hands. How weird, she’s never had this happen before. It should be fine, after all, she had a medical doctor on board. His methods and beliefs were strange, but some basic medical emergency response should be rattling in there somewhere. She took in a second inhale, feeling her first wasn’t significant enough. Let’s hope that the other three didn’t lambaste her for hogging.
Opera O was visibly tripping out. She was staring off into space and twiddling her thumbs. Freud wasn’t feeling anything, because he didn’t smoke shit. And Rudolf seemed composed as ever.
“Opera O, it’s time for you to smoke.” Rudolf slammed her fist on the table. This would not do. Time is of the essence, and blunts had a short lifespan due to the impending flame. Ah yes, just like life. A flame that will eventually sizzle out and leave debris that people were meant to pick up and throw away.
It was difficult, but Opera O managed to clear her throat enough to take another puff. Yet again, she threw a coughing fit. This time, she dropped the blunt on the floor. Lucky for them, they were in some sort of abyss where the only flammable thing was the blunt and rest of the weed.
”Ms.Opera, be careful next time. It almost got onto my shoes,” Freud said. He picked up the blunt and properly inhaled this time. “Oh, by the way Palmer, you have quite an extended family, correct?”
”Uh, yeah? What about it?” Palmer asked, voice quivering. Goddesses, she was shaking so much.
“I was just curious about your opinions on them. Preferably if you harbored any intimate feelings towards them”
What. The. Fuck. Was Freud-san serious? The Mejiros were a distinguished clan that kept their affairs friendly and familial. The only “intimate” feelings there would be between their parents. Though, there was a possibility of a loveless marriage for the sake of continuing the bloodline. Regardless, incest was out of the question.
“My family is just that, family,” Palmer said.
”Yes, that is true. However, harboring feelings towards family members is also completely natural. It is in fact my expertise. Have you heard of my newly-coined term (that’s pretty awesome if I do say so myself) Oedipus Complex?” Freud said. Palmer sat with her mouth agape as Freud quietly passed the blunt to Rudolf.
”Thank you,” Rudolf mouthed and took in another puff. “By the way, how will this affect our lungs? Shall we take any precautions?”
“The precautions are not smoking weed, Rudolf,” Palmer said, more levelheaded than ever.
Rudolf nodded and let out a quiet “I see”.
“The Overlord senses impending doom upon us! We must fight the force that may overtake us if we do not.” Opera O jumped up and pointed at nothing with a determined expression. She jumped on the table and told everyone to march forward.
”How interesting. Ms.Opera, may I use you for my next study pertaining to the consumption of illicit substances?” Freud asked.
”Freud-san, I believe she is one of the worst people you could ever use. Please reconsider,” Rudolf said. She passed the blunt to Palmer. She took the longest inhale that any of them had taken.
For once, the sleeper pothead Mejiro Palmer, coughed. She threw a coughing fit so large that the room(?) filled with more smoke. Rudolf tried waving away the smoke from her face, but it was no use. Opera O didn’t seem to mind. She was busy dealing with the supposed threat. Freud lit a cigar and began to puff that instead.
What has the world come to where the four of them ended up in a room full of nothing smoking weed with each other? Palmer wondered. She wanted to go home to her mommy.