“Hey grand pappy.”

“Hey young man. What ya doing?”

“Just come to visit my favourite grand pa. Come on. Pull out some of your weed with me and tell me a story.”

“The legal age for smoking weed is 16.”

“Since when did you care about the law grand dad?”

“Fair point.”

“Besides if I just wanted to get stoned there is weed growing all over this property, I could just pinch a bud. I want to smoke with my grand dad. Tommy says you tell good stories when you get stoned.”

“Did he just? How old are you now?”

“I’ll be 15 in November.”

“Oh ok then come up on the porch here, take a seat, and I’ll go get my medicinal herbs.”

The boy climbed up the stairs to his grandfathers verandah and took a seat. From here he could see the whole property; the fruit tree orchard, the chicken coupe, the industrial sheds and warehouses where he worked part-time, and the 6 other houses on the property. He could see his house where he lived with his mum, his aunties house, his grandma’s, and uncle Tommy’s house in the middle.

“Why do you get the house with the best view grandpa.”

“Because I’m selfish. Here make yourself useful and chop this up.” Said the grandfather as he passed the boy the herbs.

“So what sort of a story do you want to hear?”

“Tell me about Micky Miller.” Said the boy a little unsure of himself.

“Where did you here that name?” Laughed grandpa.

“Tommy told me to ask you.”

Grandpa’s bright blue eyes glassed over for a few seconds as he dove into the recesses of his memory. “Well, Micky it is. You finished chopping up the herbs?”

“Yes grandpa.”

“Here fill this up.” Said grandpa as he passed the boy the vape.

“Well, young Micky was a bit of a scally wag. He was born at the age of 39.”

“How can someone be born at the age of 39?” Asked the boy as he passed the vape back to his grandpa

Grandpa took a big inhalation of the vape and held his breath while passing the vape back to the boy.

As he exhaled a feint cloud of vapour he continued his story. “It’s like this. There was a man who met a wizard and the wizard offered him the choice of a red pill or a blue pill. If he took the blue pill he would stay as he was, but if he took the red pill he would die and be reborn. He took the red pill and was reborn as Micky Miller.”

“Oh, sort of like Tommy after he got sick.”

“Sort of, but this man had a choice. Tommy didn’t get a choice. So anyway, Micky was born. He had the memories of his former self, he looked like his former self, but by swallowing the red pill he could no longer live the life of his former self. He could no longer be a slave to the machine, he could no longer be a good boy, toe the line, and expect to be rewarded. He now knew if he didn’t create his own luck he was going to get fuck all.”

“What did he want to be lucky with Grandpa?”

“Ah. Micky was a dirty fucker. He loved the ladies.” Said the old man with a smile and glint in his eyes, as he looked up to his left in thought. “Have you had sex yet?” He probed.

The boy straightened his back and swallowed then said. “Not yet, but I fingered a girl at a party last week and another girl gave me a blow job.”

“That’s the spirit. You drive em crazy. It’s the most natural thing you can do.”

“Micky fucked a lot of girls grandpa?” Said the boy egging on the old man.

“That he did. He didn’t keep an exact count, but in his first three he estimated a bit over a 100.”

“I’d like to fuck a 100 girls grandpa, just like Micky. Tell me his secrets.”

“Ah Micky’s secrets. Well it started off with a lot of hard work. I told you his old self had to die for Micky to be born, but when Micky appeared he really was like a newborn. He had lost his old self, but hadn’t yet developed his new self. He was terrified of girls and when he did find the courage to talk to them he really didn’t have much to say other than what he had read in books.”

“Yeah. I get nervous sometimes when I want to talk to girls.” Said the boy

“Micky was so nervous for the first six months, then it got easier. He had approached 1000 girls after the first year and that took away most of the fear, but he still wasn’t able to seduce them. He was in between 2 worlds, his old self and his new self, and the girls could tell. He looked and acted confident but every so often he would flinch and his dates would notice this. Sometimes they didn’t care and fucked him anyway, but often times they ran away.”

“So how did he finally change?”

“He just stayed the course. He persisted and approached over 3000 girls and dated 100’s of them. He worked on being an independent man and not relying on any one women. Most importantly he built a relationship with himself where he was very happy to be on his own. If he had a girl to fuck he was happy. If he was on his own he was happy.”

“So there was no real secret?”

“No. Micky just had to live the life the red pill showed him. He had to both desensitize himself to rejection and gain the core belief that he offered value and there would be a girl around the corner. Maybe he just approached, dated and fucked enough girls where he ceased to give a shit.”

“Bitches, they come they go.”

“Don’t let your auntie hear you say that.” Said the old man with a smile.

“So what happened to Micky?”

“Well after he was 3 years old.”

“In a 42 year old body?”

“Yes, good maths junior. He finally felt like he had achieved what he had set out for. He wanted more, but he was also aware of some of his friends that achieved success seducing women didn’t increase their happiness by fucking more of them. He knew he would need a new challenge. He had no plans on settling down, but he thought he might like to put some energy into business, writing books, or something else instead of just trying to fuck girls half his age.”

‘So what did he chose?”

“Well then a tragedy happened to Micky. Someone he loved very dearly got sick. He got so sick that Micky prayed. ‘God. Kill him or make him better.’ God didn’t answer Micky’s prayers, Micky didn’t really believe in God anyway. Micky’s son got worse until he was totally paralysed with very little chance of improvement. Micky mourned for a son that wasn’t yet dead. He decided against chasing tail for a while. He knew the importance of grief and didn’t want to distract, but the truth was he also couldn’t be fucked.

His family gathered around him and Micky realised how important this was to him. He knew he could fuck hot young girls if he put in a bit of effort, and certainly planned to again one day, but thought he would take a break. He stayed in the hospital with his son and flirted with the nurses. He knew what to say, he knew how to challenge and tease. He hadn’t cold approached in months, but he knew it would come back easy. He realised Micky had done his job. Micky had been his alter-ego for his mid-life crisis. Micky had been there for him for his rite of passage.”

“So is that it? What about the stories of Micky fucking the hundred girls? Tell me one of them grandpa.”

“Oh I suppose you are old enough. Well there is one story….”