Stoney pulls himself together and announces he’s hitchhiking to New York City to sell 500 tabs of acid–minus the 13 he dropped on New Year’s Eve.
I beg him not to go–hitching cross country is too dangerous. Cops, rednecks, thieves, killers, all just waiting to arrest, beat up, roll, or even kill someone careless like Stoney.
Devil-may-care Stoney. I’ve never met anyone who was so slapdash with dope.