Still a little drunk from the night before, he wanted to smoke half a j before getting some breakfast tacos. It was eight am. Way too early, but he was unable to go back to sleep. If he was gonna walk for tacos it was best to do so before the heat became unbearable.
Blake sat on a nice fat rock close to the water. He sparked up and then spent a few minutes cracking his neck, shoulders, and back. The calm was welcome.
"MOTHERFUCKERTITTYSUCKERSPITBALLBITCH!"
Blake opened his eyes. About forty yards to his right on the opposite bank stood two Mexican boys, probably eight or nine years old. They stood defiantly, both in shorts and t-shirts. Blake new them sort of. The boys, cousins, used to come down to the creek to burn things and shout obscenities. Blake had seen and heard them from his back porch on more than one occasion.
"SHITDICKS," exclaimed one of the boys.
Blake laughed to himself and took another hit before pinching out the cherry light. He stood and took a deep breath. He thought, why not?
He let one rip, "ASSCUNTBASTARDCOCK!"
The boys ran off.