The Acid Chronicles, Chapter 2: Hot Nectarine Peel Vapor

Read Chapter 1: The Acid is Good

It was Saturday, so earlier in the day I had downed a couple edibles and done some writing. All was going well so I decided to take my double-dosed tab too. My friend had eye-dropped the acid onto a fruit loop because he said it preserves the shape of the acid. I’m pretty sure acid doesn’t have a shape.

I got the munchies from the edible just after sunset so I went hunter / gathering down at the Asian supermarket. I walked through the aisles, stoned, hungry, and feeling the acid kick in until I arrived at the preserved fruit section. I started loading my cart. Bags and bags of preserved nectarine peel. Tamarind. Sweet and salty plum. Dried guava. Another bag of preserved nectarine peel.

I took the loot back to the hostel and dug in. By the time Adam showed up, I was surrounded by empty packets of Asian snacks and my belly was almost ready to pop.

“Who’s this?” I asked.

He had a little Chinese girl hanging off his arm. Maybe 18.

“I don’t know, I met her on Tinder.”

“Does she speak English?”

“Sometimes.”

I burst out laughing.

“You’re crazy man, you know that? So why did you bring your date here?”

“Where else are we going to hang out. She lives with her parents and I live forty minutes away. It’s cold outside and all the parks have people in them.”

“So you brought her back to my hostel? You crazy fuck.”

She started looking around. I had to get out of there.

“Well, I’m going to smoke some weed. Do yo thang homie.”

I left and stepped outside into the cool air, cashmere scarf wrapped tightly. Everyone else looked cold. Apart from the fermenting nectarine peel in my stomach, I was comfortable. I smoked my joint and read some news. Did you know that Feminist Author Germaine Greer Says Most Rape Is ‘Bad Sex’? When the joint was done, I returned to the TV room.

I was about to walk through the door when what I saw through the window stopped me. Adam was tongue fucking the Chinese girl like the TV room was his bedroom. The girl was pulling his messy hair and making Japanese sounds. She was wriggling. He was wriggling as well. It was not right; I needed less horny company.

I called up some German dealers I used to hang with. They showed up in 15 minutes tripping on the same acid. Everyone had heard Adam’s crazy acid story by now – he couldn’t wait to take it to the podcasts! – and it was becoming coveted in the underground.

I invited them upstairs.

One of them walked into the TV room and started changing channels. Adam was unperturbed. He had his hands inside the Chinese girl like she was a puppet. I don’t even think she noticed someone else was in the room. The rest of them peered through the door window laughing as they watched young Adam penetrate this young girl.

“Let’s go to the park,” I suggested. I was bored o Adam’s Amateur Hour.

They looked at each other.

“Let’s go.”

We stepped out of the hostel and walked along the cold streets of Melbourne in formation. Two in the front, two in the back, pedestrians avoiding us out of instinct. I held a ceramic mug of hot tea in my hand. Passersby looked us over with curiosity. The main dealer put some German rap on his Pill and people started crossing the road. Meanwhile, I was waddling like a fat man. The fermenting nectarine peel had built up so much pressure in my belly I feared I would pop like a bottle of home-brew Ginger Beer. I was trying to pick the right moment to yell Allahu Akbar so my belly would explode immediately after.

After a few minutes, we arrived at the tram stop and stepped onto the first one that came.

All of us stood in the car in silence, me holding my mug of tea, them checking their phones. My stomach ached as if it was giving birth to itself. Commuters stared into empty space, ready to get drunk and start their night. I sipped my tea and clutched my stomach as the contractions came and went. I was fully dilated now but I felt like I was winning.

Suddenly the full force of the acid hit and my butthole could take it no longer.  I opened up like a cow taking a shit, my butthole flapping as hot gas shot out into my pants. I felt I may have shit myself.

I looked around for a few seconds, thinking I may have been in the clear, but then everyone looked right at me. Guilt was still seeping out of my asshole. I burst into embarrassed laughter and no one laughed back so I laughed louder and louder. Pretty soon I was folded over in hysterics and with each laugh more hot gas flowed out of my butt.

The German gangsters looked at each other and looked at me. They were not laughing.

They ran to the windows and started pulling them down, cold air spilling into the train. Commuters sitting around me jumped up and tore their windows open. They started holding their heads out the window like dogs and panting for fresh air. The driver stopped the tram and looked back.

‘What’s going back there?’ he asked. “What’s all the commotion about?”

No one answered. I was having the biggest laughing fit of my life and everyone else was gasping for oxygen.

The tram pulled up at the next stop and I climbed out. So did most of the people on the tram. I looked around for my German friends but they were nowhere to be seen. I caught a glimpse of one of them slinking into the crowd around a corner. I was deserted.

I waddled back up to the hostel. Adam had finished with the Chinese girl and sent her home. His trip was in full swing now.

“I can’t be held accountable for what you did to that Uber driver, or your family, or the police and paramedics and that ward of nurses,” I told him. “I can only be held accountable for what I did. And what I did to those tram passengers, I will be judged for when I die.”

He laughed.

“What happened man?”

I paused a moment. Something shifted in my stomach and before I could clench, a plume of hot nectarine peel vapour poured out of my rectum.

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