Sometime in the 90’s. It was a lovely lazy summer school day. I used to be a fan of weed. I had 2 other friends that were into it as well. Adam, a crazy lad into Jungle and happy hardcore music. Richard was a loose cannon, the type that did dares. Not bright but painfully hilarious. I used to live near the school, so we would go to my mums house at lunchtimes and smoke a couple of joints then go back to school. One day my cousin decided to join us. Everything was fine. We were laughing, smoking and playing Sega Megadrive. So, anyway it was time to go back to school and we headed to the stairs. My cousin was first. He was half way down when he lost his footing and tumbled down the stairs. At first we rushed to see if he was ok. He was so stoned he said he was fine and asked to be left there so he could get a nice sleep. Sleep? In a crumpled heap at the bottom of some stairs? There was riotous laughter from me, Adam and Rich as we derided his weed handling abilities.
Then the front door opened and my mum walked in on the scene. I was dead!
*Conclusion for anyone interested*
It turned out be good luck. She had finished work unusually early that day and was gonna relax at home. She asked what happened, we explained and then she must've thought it funny too because she told us to get him on the couch and go back to school. Our last image of him was on the couch, head back, mouth open as if trying to catching flies. We got told off more than once that afternoon for bursting out laughing for no apparent reason.