Rastaman folk tales: Sleeping hippies museum (first hippie story)

Discussion in 'The Artist's Corner' started by juzy, May 28, 2009.

  1. Rastaman folk tales: Sleeping hippies museum (first hippie story)

    Imagine a scary shelter-like place. It is an abandoned trailer, half burned, half squatted by freaks.

    One September, four freaks had an afternoon tea there. Two more hippies came and asked: "Isn't it 4:20 now?" Four freaks replied: "No way, guys, we already had enough... Do it in the kitchen, if you please." So those two came to the kitchen and started to smoke a fatty. After three tokes they realized that the stuff is too strong to finish it up now and hid the roach behind the sink.

    So... After that they went to drink a tea with the rest. They went and went for a while, finally tired and passed out.

    They woke up in fifty years. Everything is okay around - anarchy, free love and full legalize. The old trailer is covered with a glass dome. Hippies woke up, went outside for a whiz... hitted themselves against the dome and thought almost simultaneously: "Wow! If we're had some mind - we'd lose it..."

    Some other freak approaches them: "Sorry, guys, it's a hard Monday for you. The museum is closed, please come tomorrow." Hippies reply: "Don't bullshit us, man! We are staying here since yesterday. What the fucking museum you are talking about?" Freak answers: "Nobody is "staying" here for already a half of century. It is a freaking museum, an architectural monument of the end of the last century." They meditated on a bit on these words and asked: "Is there please any washroom here because we need to whiz fucking ASAP?"

    "Okay, let's go" - he replied.

    As he leads them to the washroom they can see ten-feet plants with fist-sized buds around. Wow, what kind of weed is that? Indica, probably...

    It would be nice to snitch just one bud, eh? The freak noticed their hungry looks and asked: "Wanna smoke some? You look so frustrated... Are you from Soviet Russia?" "No, we are locals, but still want to get high" - they replied.

    He produced a reefer and charged each of them just once. He didn't get a chance to repeat as he tried - guys are already stoned as a wall! "You are from Soviet Russia indeed, funny guys. This ditch is good only for making brownies" - he shrugged and finished up the reefer like a regular Camel.

    Then they started to play Cheech and Chong, or, I would say, to make Beavis and Butthead of themselves. The freak was making fun of them however envying such a good trip. Finally, they arrived to the guardroom - the guy is working as a guard here. There is a psycho chick - skinny, pale, tomato-eyed... next queen of Cannabis Cup beauty pageant, eh? She says: "Wow, guys, you are so funny! You look like... you know like whom? Like those two hippies which are on exhibit in our museum. They are sleeping for already fifty years in anabiosis and nobody knows why. If you want, we can go and look at them.

    "Okay, lets go - it must be funny." And everybody went to watch sleeping hippies.

    No way, dude! There ain't no sleeping hippies there. The guard almost pooped his pants: "What the fuck? They were here this morning!" Then everybody realized: hippies are woke up!

    They are here!

    To celebrate this occasion, they smoked a big blunt and went to have some tea. During the tea they had an impromptu interview, and decided that it would be nice to make some brownies (just to make the waking-up celebration truly unforgettable) and not to tell the management about the incident because egghead scientists would run there as flies on shit and inevitably ruin all the groove. The guard calls some friends, they came with a bag of brownies mix - so lets cook!

    By the evening, everybody here is slobbering like drown sailors. Fifteen grooviest freaks - comparing to them our hippies are almost square! Suddenly, our two guys are started to realize that they are already sobering up and there is no more weed left... So they went to the kitchen and checked behind the sink. Here it is, their old roach! Two puffs - and they passed out. For another fifty years.

    Original Russian text: (c) HighDuke

    Ðàñòàìàíñêèå íàðîäíûå ñêàçêè :: Ñêàçêè è ïðî÷åå

    English translation: (c) juzy

    juzy: Музей спящих хиппи (первый хиппический рÐсскÐз)

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