While this was an opportunity for Johnny, it created certain problems, too. The Starlet had been on nearly perpetual probation for the last few years, which meant that she was subject to random piss tests. She had somehow managed to pass them so far, which Johnny was pretty sure involved some kind of urine swapping, but he couldn’t count on that forever.
He was able to follow Polly, the assistant, by putting away the camera and taking off the baseball cap and sunglasses. Out of context, with his completely non descript features, she never realized he was behind her. He found that charming, somehow. She was always worried about being followed but incapable of realizing when she actually was.
The actual handover of the drugs was pretty clever as well, at least from Johnny’s point of view. What Polly appeared to be doing was buying a specific kind of very high end cigarette from a specialty shop. Nothing suspicious about that; cigarettes were way, way down on the list, somewhere after trysts with strangely androgynous DJs.
Johnny wasn’t sure what was actually in those cigarettes, but it certainly wasn’t tobacco. Johnny was sporting the baseball cap and sunglasses again when he went to the shop and ordered a pack of the cigarettes for himself.
He was actually surprised when the man at the counter actually sold him a pack, although they were ludicrously, ridiculously expensive, something that actually made his disgust for the Starlet flare a little more.
The cigarettes came in a plain black box, and the cigarettes themselves were a shiny black. He had to admit, they looked cool. Not enough to justify the price he paid for them, but cool nonetheless. They were not, as far as Johnny could tell, filled with tobacco.
They weren’t filled with drugs, either, but some kind of clove mixture. Johnny smoked one with a certain amount of trepidation, hoping like hell that he wasn’t smoking crystal meth or enough coke to kill an elephant on Quaaludes. He coughed a bit, but his heart kept beating and he didn’t feel like he was high or going to die. Which was a relief. He was a fan of tragic death of young celebrities, but he wasn’t a celeb and would prefer to avoid dying a young unknown.
His big problem was that he didn’t know exactly how the drugs were packaged within the cigarette box, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out a way to get that information. It was possible that there was just a baggie of whatever stuck in the box, and no cigarettes at all.
His other option was that the drugs were actually contained in the cigarettes, the shiny black shell just a front. What he needed to do was decided which was more likely, and he needed to do it before she got herself thrown in jail again, where she’d be safe from a ell deserved karmic death, or at least a well deserved karmic death at his hands. He held up one of the cigarettes and stared at it. He decided.
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