Meth Apt: Science Fiction

His morning meth appointment wasn't going well. For starters, there was always the problem of meeting a meth dealer who took his own product. Sometimes you'd get the hyper-paranoid vigilant smart on top of everything guy, and sometimes you'd meet the lost crashing guy. But either way the breath was awful and the sagging skin and falling out teeth didn't help. But the alien in his treehouse demanded meth, and he really wanted to keep the alien in his treehouse, so meth it was. He'd been keeping a close watch on the alien, but he didn't think its teeth would fall out or its skin would sag, though its breath had always been terrible.


Inspiration: A misread of someone else's status as "meth appt"
Story potential: Low
Notes: Eh.