Whenever you feel like your life is hard, just thank your lucky stars that you aren’t homeless. And deaf. And stupid. And addicted to speed. By the twisted humor of God, John was all of these things. He came to be known as Two Beers at work, due to a communications breakdown that we all thought was hilarious. I added the title Chief so that it sounds like an Indian name.
Two Beers was the kind of guy who would gripe and whine when you helped him out, then beg you for help. If you refused, he would take it personally. The Boss has offered probably four figures worth of generosity towards this guy just to have it repaid by a bail request.
Two Beers is not like other tweakers I’ve had the pleasure of sharing employment with. Most methheads are spastic and gleeful when they’ve had their fix- not Two Beers. He became a machine. He would do his job in dead silence and scuttle about like a raccoon. Occasionally he’d stop to mutter nonsense, like “They’re trying to box out Bigfoot!”
Two Beers loved vehicles. He had an electric skateboard which went 40 miles per hour. He also had a bike that I think he found in the river. One day he bought a car, except he didn’t have insurance or a license. He stuffed the glove box full of drugs and paraphernalia and got pulled over, like, immediately. Now he’s in jail.
Before his incarceration, he was able to set up this generous offer. It’s such a good deal that I wanted to extend it to all of you Spud readers! This image contains all the details. Not only do you get $300 out of it, I’m sure Chief Two Beers could really use that $10 for his legal fees.
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