"Ray, I'm worried about you."
Ray stopped drumming against the steering wheel. "Worried?"
"Your substance abuse."
"Substance ab-- Oh c'mon, this again? It's legal, it don't hurt nobody, and I like the way it makes me feel. Ya think it's easy keepin' this kind of energy goin'? I can handle it."
"I'm worried for your health."
"Yer kidding me."
"It's bad for your teeth."
"What's wrong with my teeth?"
"Nothing. Yet."
"Frase. I chew gum all the time. I always stir candy into my coffee." Ray held up his bag of Pixy Stix. "But *these* bother you?"
"'These' are obviously just sugar. You could get the same effect tipping a bowl of regular sugar into your mouth."
"Nah. Stix have citric acid, artificial flavors, and artificial colors too. I need my candy colors; they're pretty, and they make me happy. You have to hold on to the things in life that make you happy, Frase. And Pixy Stix come in these handy paper straws fer the sugar freak on the go."
Fraser took one out of the bag. "These are named 'Pixy Stix'?"
"Yep. They deliberately spelled it wrong just to make sure ya wouldn't approve." Ray ripped the top off of one of the paper straws and tapped a hit of green powder into his mouth. A few neon granules stayed on his lips. He licked them away, then grinned as he saw the heat in his partner's eyes. "The singular is probably 'stik' with just a K."
Fraser kept watching Ray's lips but asked, "Singular?"
"I hang with you; I pick up stuff, ya know?"
Fraser smiled but said, "There are healthier ways to satisfy your sweet tooth, Ray. Fruit, for instance."
"Hell, no. I want my sugar refined. 'Refined' means it's the good stuff, pure."
"Actually, in this case it means it's been bleached and chemically processed."
"Ya say that like it's a bad thing. Refined means it has a fancy name, like dextrose. Wave of the future stuff here, Frase."
"You're kidding me, Ray."
"A little. Look, candy cuts out the middleman. Gives me my sugar high direct-like, without all that other stuff gettin' in the way."
"Like fiber and nutrients."
"Yeah, exactly. See, this is why we get along so good. Ya know these
things about me," Ray grinned, "and I know exactly what I
have to do to get a rise outta ya."
*********************THE END***********************
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