The first three hours were pretty bad. Most of the other "Line People" were getting tired of playing with their light sabers and breaking out into histrionic fits of trivia spouting. I thought I'd just pull my arm into my trench coat and squeeze a little juice into my veins. I had just gotten the needle in when I was hit in the back with a plastic light saber.
My arm jerked and I scratched the inside of my vein, I shouted in pain. Anyone watching, and there were a lot of bored jerks in the line, probably thought I was just overreacting or startled by being hit with the sword. I quickly pulled the boot out. The meth had shot to my brain and I was starting to get a bit tweaked up. I accidentallly dropped the syringe and it rolled a few feet away.
A father and son team of StarWars dorks were standing right by where it stopped. They just stared at me, not knowing what to do. Blood started leaking out of my arm and a few drops hit the floor. In my tweaked out state I didn't know what to do so I started raving.
I shouted at everyone in the line. Some people in the line started shouting at me, so I shouted back. This was getting worse and worse and my grip on reality was slipping. Perhaps being hit caused me to shoot a little extra juice into my veins.
There were a lot of fatass trekkies there. One was a dead ringer for jabba the hut. He waddled closer to me, acting assertive but he didn't seem totally confident in himself. He was thinking of trying to stop me. I ran over to him and smacked him across the face. He started crying. People were shouting for security, one woman had gotten out her phone. I was so shocked to see a woman in line to see StarWars that I completely lost it. I ran at nearly light speed, bolted through the doors, jumped into my car, and floored it. I never did get to see the movie, but I doubt I missed much.
Inspiration
