My Name Is Douglas Eastwood
Douglas wanted to change his life, instead, he met the end of it
Yesterday you didn’t know that I exist. Today you wish that you didn’t know my name. I am a drug dealer. According to your laws, I am a criminal. According to your rules, I am a scum floating on the bottom of society.
Everything started a few months back. Lockdowns made people look for something different. They got tired of groundhog days lasting for months. They turned to drugs. Once again they remembered the sweet smoke of marijuana. My clientele exploded. The middle class became my favourite customers. They rolled in new cars, they bought in large quantities.
Days, weeks, months passed. You kept people locked in their houses. My business went uphill. The middle-class was my escape ticket. I planned to make as much money as possible and leave this island.
One day I heard a bell at my door. Two men who I have never seen before were standing outside. I opened the door. They looked like coppers but with a more sinister vibe.
“Hello Doug, we are here with a proposition”.
“Who the fuck are you”?
“I think you can guess who we are. If not, then let your imagination run wild. When it reaches the sci-fi levels, assume that it’s true”.
“Men in Black”?
“ You can say that only we don’t deal with aliens, we deal with a scum like you”.
“So how do I call you? Chip and Dale”?
Motherfuckers didn’t get my joke.
“Can we come in?” They asked while stepping into the house.
“Well, you are already in so yeah, come in,” I told them while desperately thinking about my crossbow.
“ Gentlemen, would you like some coffee?”
“No, we are good”, answered the shorter one.
“Let’s talk business. We are going to take care of your Lithuanian gang problem but you will have to buy the product directly from us and no one else.”
“Sounds like a proposition I won’t be able to say no to”.
“ Yes, you caught up fast.”
Soon you will get a delivery. We talk about the money next time. Don’t fuck it up, Douglas Eastwood.”
“Fuck you. What if I say no?”
“Try it, and see what will happen.” Lithuanians can do it instead of you. The problem with them they are animals. Greedy animals. And greedy people are unreliable. But don’t think that you are the only option”.
“By the way, how is your junkie friend doing? Alice, is it?”
“Listen, she has nothing to do with anything, she stays with me because she has nowhere else to go. Leave her alone, okay?”
“Yeah, whatever.”
They left. Three days later I got Able& Cole delivery but instead of organic fruit and vegetables, the boxes were full of weed, hash and THC oil. Everything was of the highest quality. In England, only one organisation could achieve this level of quality. HM Government and its partners in the production of medical cannabis.
I couldn’t figure this one out. The UK is one of the largest producers of medical cannabis. They don’t need some local dealer to fling their product on the streets of London. What’s the game here?
Whatever their aim was, it didn’t matter. My clientele grew. Everyone praised the product. They said they never smoked something like that. Even those who tried the best of Californian weed said that my stuff is way better.
At the end of the day, if they are happy, I am happy.
Then I noticed a slight change. Customers still smiled, still showed appreciation but they had dead eyes. Okay, maybe not dead eyes but dying eyes. The eyes of a mindless animal. They made me feel uneasy.
Alice told me that there is something unusual with the weed.
“Doug, the weed you get is strange.”
“What do you mean”?
“Don’t get me wrong it’s good, but there is something amiss, I can’t explain it.”
“Do you mean it’s sprayed with some chemicals”?
“No. I don’t want to sound crazy but it feels that it’s trying to reprogram my brain in my sleep”.
“Okay, stop smoking that shit. Take a break. I will get different gear for us to smoke.”
I didn’t notice the change in my mind but Alice is way more sensitive than I am, I have no reason to think that she is making anything up. I didn’t want to sound paranoid but… Are they trying to reprogram our brains? Only the thought of it made me shiver. It can’t be true? What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
I had to figure this one out. But how? I have no contact with the “Men in Black”. Deliveries were done by a courier company and money are collected by a random guy on a bicycle. The only option I had was to stop sending the money, this would bring them out.
I didn’t have to wait too long before they resurfaced after I failed to pass the cash to the bicycle courier.
They sent me a message with a postcode, time and date. That’s all.
I wrote a letter to Alice about what to do if I fail to return from the meetup.
“ In the boot of the car, you will find everything you need to get away as far as possible. Drive to Hull, take a ferry to Rotterdam and from there you are on your own. Don’t come back. There is some cash and a bank card in the glove compartment. You will have enough money to live in Europe. Once again, Alice, whatever you do, don’t get caught by cops and don’t come back to England. Don’t look for me and don’t forget to burn this letter!”
Dirty mattresses in a dark cellar. A dirty dog on them, chewing on a bone. It’s dark and I have bad eyesight. Blood seeps through the side of my lower back. The dog lifts its head and growls as soon as I try to move. I am fucked. They will leave me to die here and will feed my body to the fucking dog.
What the fucking end of the miserable life.
If this story caught your attention you can read about Alice’s story below:
#1
#2
#3
