Black Friday Buds

In the still-dark hours of early morning, Fred’s Fast Stop flickers to life. A faded neon sign buzzes above, spelling out “Fred’s Fast Stop” in uneven letters, as if even it is struggling to wake up. Inside, Fred is hunched over a pot of coffee, his grizzled mustache twitching with impatience. He mutters to himself, eyes half-open.

Fred (grumbling to himself): “Black Friday, more like black-hearted Friday. Buncha crazies lining up for donuts and dollar hot dogs…”

He pulls out a stack of day-old donuts, hastily arranged on a plastic tray. Fred’s apron is stained with years of coffee spills, and his face bears the weathered look of a man who has seen one too many unruly Black Fridays.

Next door, “High Hopes” dispensary is already buzzing, not just with its neon lights but with Tammy’s bright enthusiasm. Tammy, tall and charismatic with a messy ponytail, carefully arranges a display of gummy packs. She’s singing along to the radio—an off-key rendition of “Eye of the Tiger.”

Tammy (to herself, upbeat): “Nothing says Black Friday like BOGO edibles… and maybe a little TLC for these poor souls.”

She spots Zeke outside the head shop, wrestling with a large “Everything Must Go!” sign that keeps flapping in the cold wind. Zeke, sporting a beanie and a faded tie-dye shirt, looks like he’s either too stoned or too Zen to care.

Tammy (yelling to Zeke): “Hey, Zeke! Need some help?”

Zeke (smiling lazily): “Nah, man, the wind and I are just getting to know each other.”

As the sun starts to rise, the strip mall’s parking lot fills with cars of all shapes and conditions—beat-up trucks, a suspiciously clean RV, and even a moped with a milk crate strapped to the back. The line outside grows longer, more animated.

Ethel, the Coupon Queen, stands at the front, bouncing on her heels, holding her coupon binder like a holy relic.

Ethel (to Jerry, the conspiracy theorist, who’s standing next to her): “I heard Fred’s got two-for-one Twinkies. You think they’re expired?”

Jerry (eyes darting around suspiciously): “Nothing’s ever what it seems, Ethel. The dispensary’s probably a front for… you know… ‘government testing.’ But I’ll still grab some gummies, just in case.”

The college kids behind them are laughing and pushing each other, buzzing with youthful excitement.

College Kid 1: “Dude, if I don’t get that ‘Cosmic Kush’ strain, I’m gonna cry.”

College Kid 2: “Relax, man, there’s, like, ten strains left. And we’re hitting Fred’s for snacks after. It’s a game plan.”

Fred steps outside, coffee cup in hand, surveying the growing line with a mix of dread and resignation.

Fred (shouting to the crowd): “Alright, you animals, don’t trample my shelves! And if you touch the donuts without paying, you’ll have to deal with me.”

A few customers chuckle, others nod solemnly. It’s a tradition at this point—Fred’s annual Black Friday rant, as reliable as the day-old pastries he sells.

Here’s an updated illustration, bringing more humor and character to the strip mall scene. Now, let’s continue with the next section!

The sky is still streaked with a faint orange glow as the doors of “High Hopes” swing open, signaling the start of the sales madness. Tammy, standing behind the counter, welcomes the first wave of customers with an exaggerated cheer.

Tammy (grinning widely): “Welcome, welcome! Who’s ready to get high on both life and savings?”

A roar erupts from the crowd as eager customers pour into the store, each one clutching a flyer detailing today’s deals.

Tammy (to a bearded man in a cowboy hat): “Morning, Frank! Two-for-one edibles, or are you here for the ‘Relax & Recharge’ bundle?”

Frank (scratching his beard): “The bundle, Tammy. Mama needs her gummies, and I need that ‘sleepy strain.’ You know how it is.”

Meanwhile, over at Fred’s Fast Stop, Ethel is the first to push through the door. Her eyes are locked on the clearance shelf.

Ethel (excitedly, to Fred): “Where’s the half-off Spam?”

Fred (deadpan, pointing to a dusty corner): “Right over there, Ethel. You’re clearing out my retirement plan, you know that?”

Ethel doesn’t even respond, already digging through cans as other customers swarm the snack aisle like wild animals.

Jerry, the conspiracy theorist, lingers near the entrance, eyeing Fred with suspicion.

Jerry (leaning in, whispering): “Fred, you got any of that secret beef jerky stash in the back? The one the government doesn’t want us to know about?”

Fred (without missing a beat): “Sure do, Jerry. But it’s a three-dollar markup—hazard pay for dealing with your theories.”

Over at “Tokes & Trinkets,” Zeke is swamped with customers, each one inquiring about glass pipes, novelty lighters, and psychedelic tapestries.

Zeke (calmly, to a young woman eyeing a neon green bong): “Ah, yes, the ‘Lizard King.’ She’s a beauty. Half off today, plus good karma for supporting a local artisan.”

The young woman nods thoughtfully before handing over her cash.

Outside, a group of college kids hollers at each other, debating who should carry their purchases back to the dorms.

College Kid 3: “Dude, I’m telling you, get the 2-for-1 vape pens. We’ll never have to leave the couch again.”

College Kid 4 (holding up a six-pack of energy drinks): “Nah, I’m loading up for the finals week grind. We need balance, man. You know—stoned but awake.”

The scene grows more chaotic as more shoppers arrive—moms clutching babies, old-timers in flannel jackets, and even a dog wearing a holiday sweater, guided by a stoned owner.

Fred steps back outside, his face a mix of amusement and dread.

Fred (yelling to the crowd): “Hey, you break anything, you buy it! And don’t eat the hot dogs unless you want to be on a first-name basis with Pepto-Bismol.”

The crowd’s laughter mingles with the sound of cash registers ringing and Tammy’s voice over the dispensary’s intercom.

Tammy (over the speaker): “Friendly reminder—please keep your holiday cheer and your hands to yourselves. We’re all in this together.”

Here’s an illustration capturing the lively chaos inside the dispensary, setting up the next section perfectly. Now, let’s continue the story!

As the morning rush hits its peak, there’s a surprising sense of community brewing in the chaos. Inside “High Hopes,” Tammy juggles customer orders with her signature smile, eager to make each interaction a little brighter.

Tammy (handing over a bundle to an elderly woman): “Here you go, Mrs. Carter. Your ‘Joint Relief Pack.’ And don’t forget—just a couple puffs before bingo night, okay?”

Mrs. Carter, a small woman with sparkling eyes, pats Tammy’s hand gratefully.

Mrs. Carter: “You’re a blessing, dear. Now, let’s see if this old hip can still boogie.”

Meanwhile, Fred’s Fast Stop is surprisingly warm despite the Black Friday madness. A single mom, looking frazzled, walks in with her teenage son. They hesitate by the donut counter, eyeing the treats.

Fred (eyeing the pair, softening): “Hey, kid, grab a couple. On the house.”

The boy’s eyes widen in surprise.

Boy: “Really?”

Fred (gruff but sincere): “Yeah, really. Just this once, though. Next time, it’s cash or chores.”

The mother mouths a silent “thank you” as they head to the register, a rare moment of warmth cutting through the day’s craziness.

Back at “Tokes & Trinkets,” Zeke has found himself in a surprisingly deep conversation with a weathered Vietnam vet who’s browsing pipes.

Vet (with a sad smile): “You know, I used to be a glassblower back in the day. Made some fine pieces, too.”

Zeke pauses, his usual laid-back demeanor shifting to genuine interest.

Zeke: “No kidding? I make some of these myself. Got one right here, actually—call it ‘The Peace Pipe.’ It’s not on sale, but… I’d be honored to gift it to a fellow glasshead.”

The vet’s eyes well up for a moment.

Vet: “Thanks, kid. It’s been a while since someone’s handed me something without a catch.”

The simple exchange of the pipe is a quiet but powerful moment, a small act of kindness amidst the frenzy.

Even outside, in the parking lot, the mood is starting to change. Ethel, the Coupon Queen, helps a young mom load groceries into her car. Jerry, the conspiracy theorist, shares a surprisingly accurate piece of advice about CBD oil with a college kid.

Jerry (grinning): “The government’s watching, but hey, these gummies do work for anxiety.”

The young college student nods appreciatively, pocketing the advice along with a bottle of tincture.

Here’s an illustration of the unexpected Black Friday power outage at the strip mall. Now, let’s continue with the next part of the story!

Just as the shopping frenzy hits full swing, the unexpected happens: a sudden power outage plunges the entire strip mall into darkness. The neon signs sputter out, leaving only the faint glow of cell phones and emergency exit signs to light the way.

Tammy (yelling over the dark, half-joking): “Well, that’s one way to kill the buzz!”

A collective groan rises from the crowd, followed by a chorus of nervous laughter. Inside “High Hopes,” Tammy reaches for a flashlight and waves it around, trying to restore some order.

Tammy: “Alright, folks, just hang tight. We’ll figure this out. I’ve got backup batteries for the registers. Who needs a glow-in-the-dark lighter in the meantime?”

At “Fred’s Fast Stop,” Fred is unfazed. He reaches under the counter and pulls out a dusty old lantern.

Fred (calling to the shoppers): “Power’s out, but hot dogs are still on. Who’s hungry?”

Zeke emerges from the head shop, clutching a bundle of candles and handing them out to customers. His chill demeanor remains intact.

Zeke (grinning): “Nothing like a blackout to bring us back to our hippie roots. Who’s down for an impromptu drum circle?”

In the parking lot, something unexpected begins to happen. Strangers who were mere bargain-hunters just moments ago start chatting, sharing snacks, and even swapping stories.

Ethel (holding a flashlight over a donut box): “Anyone want a stale glazed? Fred says they’re best when they’re stale—adds character.”

The offer sparks chuckles from the small group of gathered shoppers, who now sit on the curb, enjoying the moment despite the inconvenience.

The Vietnam vet from earlier lights up his new pipe, the glow providing an oddly comforting beacon in the dark.

Vet (with a satisfied puff): “Well, this turned out better than I expected. Feels like the old days—just without the jukebox.”

Fred sets up a portable grill he had tucked away, grilling hot dogs by the glow of the lantern. The scent fills the air, drawing the remaining crowd toward the mini-mart.

Fred (gruff but sincere): “Free dogs for anyone who’s stuck here. Just don’t tell corporate, or I’ll get canned.”

The mood lightens, and the strip mall parking lot transforms into an impromptu tailgate party. The once-separate groups blend into one, sharing laughs, drinks, and even some snacks from the head shop.

Here’s an illustration of the heartwarming sunset scene at the tailgate party. Let’s wrap up the story with the final section!

As the sun sets over the small Nevada town, the strip mall is no longer just a place of transactions—it’s a little community. The power finally comes back on, but by then, no one seems to notice. Laughter echoes across the parking lot, and Tammy, Fred, and Zeke watch the crowd with a mixture of exhaustion and contentment.

Tammy takes a break, leaning against the dispensary door with a big smile.

Tammy (musing aloud): “Who knew Black Friday would be this… heartwarming?”

Fred, taking a rare moment of relaxation, leans on his makeshift grill and watches the happy crowd.

Fred (grinning): “I ain’t made this many friends in one day in my entire life. Maybe I’ll start charging for these hot dogs next year.”

Zeke, still wearing his signature beanie, pulls out an old tambourine and starts a rhythm. A couple of the college kids join in with some bongo beats, turning the impromptu gathering into a small celebration.

The single mom from earlier approaches Fred, her teenage son by her side.

Mom (grateful): “Thanks for the donuts, Fred. And for the kindness. It’s rare to find these days.”

Fred tries to wave off the thanks, but there’s a hint of emotion in his eyes.

Fred: “It’s nothin’. Just part of the Black Friday spirit, I guess.”

The Vietnam vet and Zeke are sitting together, the gifted pipe between them.

Vet (reflecting): “You know, I thought today was just about scoring deals. But I think I got something better—some real peace.”

Zeke nods thoughtfully.

Zeke: “Sometimes, man, all you need is a good smoke and good company.”

As the day winds down, the crowd starts to thin, but the sense of connection lingers. People exchange numbers, make plans to meet up again, and wave cheerful goodbyes. Tammy, Fred, and Zeke gather together for a final toast—a shared bottle of cheap soda from the mini-mart.

Tammy (raising her bottle): “To the best Black Friday this dusty old mall has ever seen.”

Fred (with a smirk): “And to all the weirdos who made it happen.”

Zeke (grinning): “We should do this every year, but, like… on purpose.”

They laugh together as the neon signs flicker back to life, casting a warm glow over the little strip mall that, for one day, felt a lot like home.