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Duff

I guess after five or six days I was okay. I had stopped feeling sick like the worlds worst hangover. I never really felt the shakes for the all the fucking pills. Plus they seemed to block the panic attacks somehow. Admittedly, I may have indulged a bit too much in the Librium and Valium. I'm out of them already.

Slash...Slash has taken all of his shit too. I can tell he doesn't feel so great today. At least he didn't have to go through the worst part of it sober. But I can see the desire crawling underneath his skin. I don't know how much longer my Curly Sue can go without a drink at least. Fuck, I don't know how much longer I can.

Slash and I have become fucking cheerleaders for each other. We try to keep the other motivated. Try to root the team to victory and shit. But let's get real fucking honest here, how many football games have ever been won because the cheerleaders did such a kick ass job that the fucking team won? Yeah, it's a fucking rhetorical question. The real question is, how long could we keep this team spirit up?

I really thought Izzy would have slipped by now. But to everyone's utter fucking dismay he wasn't out of his scripts yet, close, but not completely. Physically it's been pretty obvious he's in pain, but Izz is the type of guy who tries to hide that shit, and Izzy could be real good at that shit when he wanted to be.

Axl was a fucking ray of sunshine all week. And if you can believe it the son of a bitch has been pampering the fuck out of Izzy. I'm talking about little massages when he knows he's hurting. Izzy has never been a huge conversationalist, sober he is even less of one. He sometimes drifts off in his own head. I guess Axl can just sense that shit. He would always drop what he was doing and wrap his arms around Izzy from behind and give him a soft kiss. And Izzy would always smile and you could just see the life start to swirl in his eyes. Izzy's eyes were nice actually now that I could see the color of them. They had this slight green twinge that danced among brown. And they weren't droopy or puffy. Sober looked real good on Izz. But what seemed to be his greatest motivation was Axl. I think maybe Izzy feels like he's finally being loved again. And I think that just maybe, Axl believes in Izzy this time. I think Izzy is enjoying the love so much that he's not really tripping on being sober.

Well...soberish. You can take away our fucking whiskey, our blow, our smack, and our pills but goddamnit you can't take a fiends weed away. We have all become complete potheads. Come on when has fucking weed ever hurt or killed somebody? It was like cigarettes. And you wouldn't pry those from our cold dead hands. Trust me, we needed that shit just to deal with this shit.

I run my hand down Slash's back and he jumps slightly. He sighs and looks at me. "Man...being sober is really fucking boring. I cant talk to Stevie cause he's all out of it. Izzy's ten feet up Axl's ass and vice versa...and you and me...we just fucking sit here and watch TV on a bus or in a hotel or we get out on stage and fucking play. I'm fucking bored!" He jumps up and paces a bit.

It's time for some of that weed now, I can tell. I break out a sack and start crumbling up buds on a magazine. "I know baby boy, I'm fucking bored too."

"I'm crawling out of my fucking skin Duff," he grabs at his head as he paces. "It's like shit is moving 900 miles an hour in my head."

I lay the weed out in the paper and quickly twist it up and spark the end. "Here," I say holding in the smoke. Slash takes it and takes in three drags, holding them all in. Fucking iron lungs. He exhales and does this again. I wonder if I should just roll my own joint?

"I'm serious Duff," he exhales, "I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this shit before I pull out all of my goddamn hair and start in on yours!"

I'm not in the best of moods and its really hard to pretend like I'm positive rays of ions at the fucking moment. "What the fuck do you want me to tell you Slash?! Fucking go get high? Is that what you're waiting to hear? You just waiting around until I fucking cave in so you can too?"

Slash drags from the joint again as he looks at me with a scrunched brow and extends what's left of the fucking joint out to me. I take it and look at it and then up at Slash. "Fucking really? What the fuck do you expect me to fucking do with this shit?!" I snap and flick it at him.

"Jesus Christ Man, what the fuck is wrong with you?" He asks me with a peculiar look. "I swear to fucking god man you just sounded like Axl."

"Well fuck! What do you expect? I'm goddamn bored as shit too and all the fuck I can think about is Vodka! But you! With you it's smack! If you can't do smack, I can't do blow or drink. That was what we agreed on! So here I am stuck wondering if you can fucking hack it when I don't know if I can fucking do it! This shit fucking sucks and I'm pissed the fuck off about it!! We're in fucking hell and Izzy is in goddamn paradise and it ain't fucking fair!!"

"Really, you're actually pissed off that for once Izzy seem to have found a shred of happiness? What the fuck you saying? He don't deserve it? He not as good as us? That's pretty goddamn shitty of you man. And it's pretty fucking amazing how much you sound like fucking AXL when you say it. Slash grabs an ashtray and chunks it right at my head.

"You little motherfucker!" I seethe.

"Little?" He huffs, "At my last inspection my dick was bigger than yours!"

"Oh! Now my dick's too small for you huh?! Well maybe you should go fuck Izzy since he's next in line in this band on your fucking penis scale!" I'm just about ready to start fucking swinging.

"Don't think I couldn't," Slash smirks at me daringly.

I leap up and tackle him like a fucking grizzly bear on a raccoon.

"Get the fuck off me you asshole fuck!" He yells and wrangles from beneath me.

I guess we tire one another out wrestling. Maybe we get bored. Or maybe it was the strike of the lighter behind us. Izzy stands there in his calm Izzy manner and drags from his cigarette. He squints at the smoke and exhales.

"So...should I break you two up or let you just have at it?"

"Fuck off Izzy," I turn and growl at him as I pin Slash's wrists above his head.

"No Izz, don't fuck off! Get him the fuck off me!" Slash shouts.

With the single flick of his wrist a handful of little blue pills with hollowed out V's come flying at us. He drags from his cigarette again and exhales. "We good now fuckers?"

Slash and I let go of our death grips on each other and start picking the pills up off the floor. In the commotion Izzy disappears as strangely as he had appeared. Twenty minutes later Slash and I make up with a couple of blow jobs.