Chapter One: Singin' In The Rain

James tells of his first encounter with the Church of Eternal Happiness.

It was a cold December night when I first stumbled onto the Church. I say stumbled because, like usual, I was drunk off my a*s, and, like usual, I was unhappy with my lot in life. Friends, family, lovers, almost all alienated. Some because of the others. The outer walls of the Church were something special: A light, airy, baby blue painted stone with a neon yellow happy face sign above the entrance. In my drunken state, it only made me angrier than I already was.

Of course, that just my first encounter. I was headed to a friend's place. Didn't stop in, not yet... They were still just in that one building back then. I had all of my hair. Things were... Different back then. A lot different. My friend lived just around the corner from the Church, so I thought Hey, why not ask them if they have spray paint or something?

The room where Miles was staying was a shithole, to say the least. The walls were probably white at some point, but now they were stained brown and the entire room smelled strongly of tobacco. Weed, too, if I remember right. This was the second time I had been to their place. Miles was a Fox, they were a sly one, too. They knew looks could be deceiving, and they deceived alright. One of the smartest people I knew, had a degree in Public Speaking from Hatford University in Maine. Being a fox, though, they probably didn't need it. They could convince the President that election season had come early and that he was the new leader of the country. They used those talents in other ways though- They were a dealer.

I say "were" because they had. That was a long time ago, They didn't really like slinging anything harder than pot. It's tougher to convince a tweaker not to stab you with his knife than it is with a pothead. Then again, a pothead probably wouldn't be trying to stab you in the first place. But still, I knew that Mies had a few connections with some other dealers with some harder stuff, if I really wanted. And believe me, I did... I was at a low point in my life, and damn, did I need to shoot up.

'Course. that thought only hit me after I had started walking, and when I could feel the fingers of withdrawal reaching for my heart, I knew that I needed something fast. That's what brought me to Miles' place. They might have something to fix me up. I hoped.

Miles' first reaction when I walked in was "Really, man? You know I'm outta the game. I don't help nobody deal that s**t no more. Get yo a*s out."

Didn't stop me from picking up a candlestick in the hallway and rushing them with it, that snarky a*s m**********r. Still, drunk me wasn't as good a fighter as sober me was, back in my heyday; Miles dodged and dropped me good. Had me pinned down by my own candlestick.

"Where's the s**t, man?" I growled. "I need somethin', I can't f****n' take this!" Drunk was good, but high was better.