For the prompt “columbus rolls the worst joint ever witnessed by man god and demon and is immediately executed for it”
Marijuana was supposed to be illegal. There were strict policy guidelines in the Chaldean code of conduct that outlined the punishments for owning and using illegal substances within Chaldea, with an entire paragraph specifically for outlining the punishments for marijuana.
But dealing with the incineration of humanity kind of makes those things take a back seat and make people look for any sort of refuge from the absurdity of their lives. One staff member’s smuggled stash was soon cloned, planted, grown, and became a thriving little drug operation for the entirety of the Grand Order – though with the slowly coming inspection of Chaldea, they’d have to be removed, the evidence destroyed.
Thankfully, it was very hard to find out someone grew pot if all the pot had gone up in smoke, and why not enjoy that smoke while you were at it?
One by one, the plants were harvested, the yields rationed, with everyone who partook, staff or Servant, knowing the final date to blaze it all.
Of course, with that looming deadline, a few final stragglers decided they wanted in.
“Aaahaha, of course I want to try the herb of hashish! Never got a chance, too busy being a daring explorer and all!”
Columbus stood in the doorway, convinced he was cutting an impressive figure and that none of the others in the room knew he aimed to steal it all and sell it back for a tidy profit. Control the goods, and you become king, whether those goods are spices, drugs, or slaves. He knew that well.
The various staffers and Servants stared up at him, eyes varying degrees of bloodshot, as they considered whether it was wise to let one of the worst monsters humanity has created partake.
Eventually, however, one voice spoke up for the group. “Well, mayhaps it’ll mellow you out a little, Columbus!” Mozart’s interjection shifted into a good-natured laugh, as he patted the ground next to him, inviting Columbus into the circle. “Come on, roll us up a joint, it’s not that hard.”
Columbus grinned. Perfect. Step one, he was in. Now he just had to get them stoned enough to not notice as he swiped everything else – and that started by making the perfect canabis delivery device. And of course Mozart would be correct in his assessment – how hard could it be to wrap paper around leaves?
~~~
The circle was silent, staring at the disaster that Columbus held proudly in his hand.
Mordred, never one for tact, was the first to break the silence. “The actual fuck is that?” he said, red-tinged eyes fixed on the object pretending to be a joint.
“… It’s… a hashish… cigar?” said Columbus, confusion plain on his face and in his voice.
“… You wasted half a gram on that!” Ryougi Shiki shot in next, her hands flexing in what was clearly growing rage, as her eyes snapped from the malformed disastrous mistake that rested on Columbus’s palm up to the traitor’s eyes.
“More is better, right?” Columbus felt a twinge of panic begin to set in. What was going on? Why were they-
“When it’s in the joint, yes! You picked so much out and threw it away!” Jeanne Alter, the fiery Avenger, had her flagpole in hand and a menacing look in her eye.
“But it was so sticky!”
“You threw out the sticky parts? Those are the best parts!”
Voices were rising in rage, as Columbus looked around in a growing panic.
“We can’t grow any more with the inspection coming!” “Every bud counts!” “Goddamn idiot, hated you anyways.” “Fuck, let’s just-”
There was motion, sharp violent shouts, and Columbus felt something… no, some things… slam into his body. Thud-thud-thud. Searing white-hot pain lanced through him as he realized he’d been impaled from two different directions, the cacophony of shouts crystallizing in retrospect into words.
“Gae Bolg!”
“Clarent Blood Arthur!”
“La Grondement du Haine!”
He felt every cell of his body alight as he was engulfed in fire, the curse of the demonic spear weaving through him from within as he was burned from without, the final thing he ever saw being Ryougi Shiki’s eyes as they flashed a brilliant, violent blue, a knife in hand, as she darted towards him. There was a feeling of something passing through his neck, and it all, at last, mercifully went black.
~~~
Columbus’s burning body dissolved into sparks, his core destroyed from the volley of Noble Phantasms that felled him. The assembled servants picked up his disaster of a joint, sadness reaching even Jeanne Alter’s eyes.
Mozart, carefully, reached up, claiming the misshapen monstrosity, before unwrapping it, passing the ground flower within to another paper, and adding just a little more to bulk it back up, before wrapping himself a new one and giving it a light. He inhaled, held the smoke, and breathed out.
“Well, glad that worked out.”
