“I’ll be there for you, man,” Dwight says. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Larry is seventeen years old today and is robbing a bank. Or trying to. Dwight can’t figure out exactly how they should do it. Should they go in together or separately? It seems as if all the drugs Dwight is selling and doing are finally affecting his brain. He’s upped what he takes since the 24-Hour Variety. His shaking hands – which haven’t gone away. His rolling eyes. The fact that he never remembers what they’ve been talking about. Dwight’s too old, in Larry’s opinion, to be doing hard drugs. Everyone over twenty seems old. He’s pissing Larry off.
“Wake up, man,” Larry shouts. They are standing in Dwight’s apartment. It’s a mess. Roaches scurry on the counter around dirty dishes, more dishes in the sink, leaking f
