<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v140/dracour/jdquestionmark-1-1.jpg)</div>According to the Burger King clock mounted on the wall next to the fast food joint's entrance, JD had exactly seventy nine seconds left until he could punch out.  And now, at this most critical of times, a grossly obese woman had sidled up to the counter with her paradoxically emaciated looking husband.<em>Nine</em>pre-adolescents were clustered around her ungainly hips, excitedly squawking and pointing at the brightly lit toy display.  He wasn't sure if they were all one family, or a playdate.  Either way, he felt bad for the whippishly thin husband.<br/><br/>Knowing his shift manager was watching, and knowing he'd forfeit three ounces of weed if he left even a second before the end of his shift, JD did his best to look busy by wiping down the counter, hoping the mountain of maternity would turn to another register.  No such luck.<br/><br/>She coughed to get his attention.  When he ignored her, she cleared her throat loudly.  Sighing to himself, he put on his most miserable and self-pitying expression, mounting the register.  Sixty one seconds until the end of the shift.<br/><br/>"Welcome to Burger King how may I help you," he mumbled, not even making eye contact.  The woman, who had the fairly tall JD by a good two inches, glowered down at him, one pudgy hand reaching out and snatching one of the children's sleeves before he ran off.<br/><br/>"Alright," she began, now staring thoughtfully up at the menu.  JD raised an eyebrow, waiting.  Forty six seconds left.<br/><br/>"We'll have two chicken finger kids meals, four hamburger kids meals, a--"<br/><br/>"Missus Dawes, I want a coke!" the youngest child suddenly cried.  The woman turned away from the counter and began to scold the young girl for interrupting.  As she did so, several other children began shouting out their own soda choices.  JD, who had entered her order so far, looked up from his register.  Thirty seven seconds.<br/><br/>The young girl stomped her feet, then abruptly began to wail.  People nearby began looking on as the mother tried to calm her brood.  Rolling his eyes, JD canceled the order and quickly punched out of work.  Three ounces of weed simply wasn't worth another thirty seconds of this.<br/><br/>He had just removed his tag when the mother turned back at the counter, significantly flustered now.  "Sorry 'bout--"<br/><br/>"I'm off shift ma'am," he said, barely able to contain a devilish grin.  He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and walked around the counter, pushing back his somewhat long hair with his free hand.  "You'll need to<em>re-lo-cate</em>to another line, ma'am."<br/><br/>JD popped out a lighter and lit the cig as he made for the door.  "'Ave an 'ice day!" he said around the death stick, waving at the reddening woman.  He kicked the door open, reveling briefly in the fresh, outside air.<br/><br/>JD quickly walked away from the Burger King, stuffing his nametag down his back pocket and pulling out his tucked work shirt.  He scanned the parking lot for Cole as he jogged across the drive-thru lane.  Once he spotted his friend's nicked and worn sedan, he made a beeline for it.<br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v140/dracour/colequestionmark-1-1.jpg)</div>"Hey JD, what's up?" Cole asked amiably once his friend was in the car.<br/><br/>JD pulled the cigarette out of his mouth.  "This.  Check<em>this</em>out, man."  He held up the singed cylinder.  They were stuck in a line leaving the parking lot, so Cole leaned over to look.  JD continued.  "I found this guy who works at the Denny's next door.  He sells these custom joint wraps, dyed to look like normal cigs!  Ain't that fuckin' sweet?"<br/><br/>Cole made a face as he spun the wheel around, turning onto Center Street.  "You know I don't like that shit."<br/><br/>JD shrugged.  Licking his fingers, he pinched the end of the disguised joint, snuffing the embers out.  Then, as he pocketed the marijuana, "You pick up my shit?"<br/><br/>"Which shit?"<br/><br/>"My<em>camping</em>shit."<br/><br/>Cole chuckled.  "Ya, it's in the trunk," he said, jerking his head over his shoulder.<br/><br/>JD sighed.  "Whew, good.  Hey, big man, why'd you really come along?"<br/><br/>The driver shot him a strange look.  "Didn't we just go over that last night?"<br/><br/>"To 'protect' them from me?  Fucking bullshit.  You can't protect people from a fuckin'<em>force of nature</em>!"  JD waved his arms menacingly in the air, making strange howling noises.<br/><br/>Cole looked at JD.  "The fuck you doing?  Did someone lace that joint with Ecstasy?"<br/><br/>The passenger dropped his arms and put on a thoughtful look.  "You know, I think Joe did.  I'm feeling kinda claustrophobic."  JD shook his head dismissively.  "Doesn't matter.  The point is, you're coming along just to satisfy Natalia, right?  You just don't want to admit it because--"<br/><br/>Cole's cellphone interrupted JD.  The former pulled it out and popped it open, quickly switching his focus between the LSD screen and the road.  "Speak of the devil.  Gotta take this," he said, pressing the cellphone to his ear.  "Natalia, hey!  What's up?"