Skunky High Story

Skunky High

Another sunny morning in Bannica.

The sun rose early that day over Bannica. It’s warm rays fell on green pastures and gold wheat fields, dismissed the chilly dew, slipped through the window of a trailer and crept slowly towards a bed, on which a big and feathery creature slept peacefully, releasing less than peaceful sounds.

When the first ray dabbed his beak, he budged, rolled, and finally exhaled heavily when the realisation came that he was totally sober. It was a particularly heavy burden for Hippie Chicken (that’s how they call him on the farm) because he was struggling with sobriety for a few days already. Which isn’t that bad, to be honest, but when you are a chicken and a hippie, a sober state of mind gives more fog than clarity. Everything was rough and unpleasant and there was only one remedy for that: his favourite kush. When he was smoking Blue Velvet, he was blue no more and everything was smooth and nice to the touch, almost like the whole fabric of the world was made out of velvet.

But lately, no matter how hard he tried, how big he rolled his joints, blessed smoothness didn’t come. That is why Hippie Chicken was particularly sad that sunny morning. He looked around his trailer and his gaze stopped at the beautifully made Bannacis Rolling Tray, one of the ancient artefacts that were given by weed gods centuries ago. On the tray laid a joint rolled last night, his usual nocturnal preparation for egg and joint breakfast in the morning. But what was once the most important and joyful meal of the day was now postponed with a little dose of anxiety mixed with hope – maybe it will work? Maybe bad days shall finally be over?

He approached the tray with hesitation, lifted it slowly, and finally with a sudden mettle, lit it and took one big puff. Working or not, this gesture was always nice, first smoke in the morning, so calming, so reassuring that this day will be another day in paradise.

But what was anticipated more than that, didn’t come. He took another puff, and another. But the world did not become soft and velvety, on the contrary, things seemed to have even rougher textures.

He completely lost his appetite. Suddenly overwhelmed with a too well known feeling inside, he left. Even though this morning was truly glorious, he couldn’t enjoy it, and decided to quickly disappear from the annoyingly warm rays of sun. His seemingly aimless wandering led him to some bushes, in which, resided his old friend. Without further ado, he decided to delve into the thick brush. It didn’t take long for him to suddenly stumble upon his friend blundering around with his usual energy. Also usual before he was seen, his unusual fragrance announced him. That’s how it is with skunks. But this one was no ordinary skunk, this one was Lemon Skunk, only found in Bannica. Did he smell? Yeah, but once you got used to it you started to catch subtle notes of lemony haze, his special stuff, famous in the whole world, but rather from legends since it smelled so badly almost no one dared to taste it – their loss.

“How do ma friend? How do?” He almost shouted. “How we feeling today, huh?”

Chicken exhaled heavily again before gathering the strength to share his burden,

“Not well my dear smelly fellow, actually terrible, I’m feeling particularly “he” today.”

“Oooh ma, why the sad face you beautiful feathery creature? Tell me now! And why “he” so suddenly? I canna recall youse using hises for so long!”

Lemon Skunk had this habit of almost shouting everything, which came from endless amounts of energy caused by smoking his haze all his life. This probably also augmented his linguistic abilities to the point that almost no one could fully understand him.

“Because when I feel heavy, almost bent to the ground, I lose all my femine characteristics. I’m starting to suspect, my friend, that depression was invented by men… I’ve been sober for too long lately… My Blue Velvet works no more…”

His sorrowful litany was expressed with long pauses, since he struggled to express every syllable.

“Holy moly that no righty, oh no. When your goodies loses power you get sad and sauer.”

“Please, no rapping today!”

“Righty right ma friend, you come proper fella, here’s a little something I’m keeping for a special occasion called ‘ten o’clock, not breakfast, not dinner, just joint.’”

Chicken grabbed the joint that was handed to him that looked rather “all the day’s meals in one”, weighed it in his winghand and muttered:

“Okey, let's ban.”

“Hohi ohi, let's ban indeed, let’s bannica bana moon!”

The prospect of getting high made Lemon Skunk even more excited and, as a result, completely incomprehensible.

Chicken lifted it to his beak and got sudden second thoughts.

“Ugh! That stinks man! Stinks like you!”

Skunk only chuckled amusedly.

“Davai davai!”

“What’s that mean?”

Skunk laughed.

“Ruski, Ruski! Mean come on man, mean come on and BAN MAN!”

From years of listening to Skunk talk like this, Hippie understood that he meant it was Russian for come on and smoke, though he doubted Skunk’s translation was correct.

And so he davai’ed. He lit the joint and took one big puff, kept it for a while and then exhaled. Suddenly, a tremble rolled through his whole body. He took another one and exhaled it with delight. Blissful oblivion, awaited so long, came and cradled him with it’s warm grip of no worry about what will be or what already came to pass.

“Holy GrapeGod man, that stuff is strong! It smells like you but wow it’s strong!”

“It’s my skunky yunky dunky doo!” Exclaimed Skunk, taking over his joint.

“Your what?” Asked the confused chicken.

“My skunky dodo, my man odour, my honey… Lady fragrance! Mmmm ladies love ma fragrance… boys too, me no picky.” He chuckled and passed the joint.

Am I smoking skunk’s spray – wondered Chicken – where did my life bring me? But then he shrugged his shoulders, screw it, stuff is good, no matter where it came from. And then he took another puff. And another.

And suddenly it came to him.

“Holy raisin, I’ve never been this high!”

“Righty righty my little cock-a-doo, you’ve taken stuff for like two cows and a half, you probably gonna die.”

Die? Is this the end, he thought. But the prospect of ceasing to exist suddenly wasn’t so frightening. Wow, I’m so high I don’t fear death any more.

So he laid where he was standing, in the middle of the bush. Skunk looked at him with amusement and decided to join him since he had nothing else to do and enjoyed the company. So there they laid, for what seemed like a few human lifespans. Hippie Chicken was chicken no more, but an astral being, existing always and never. And then, as suddenly as the high came, so suddenly it was gone. Chicken awoke and arose to look around. His skunky friend was still with him but he wasn’t sure they were in the same bushes.

2. In the halls of Royal Dwarf.

The forest Skunk and Chicken were in was almost familiar, but something felt strange. Confused, our stoners decided to roll another joint from the stinky stash of Lemon Skunk. But while they started to prepare The Rolling Ritual they were startled by distant rumbles. Soon after, a strange creature emerged from the bushes. It was short and hairy, with curly grey hair and a long beard. His curls were so thick, they almost didn't notice the crown on his head. The creature gazed at them with red-high eyes and shouted:

“Aaaha! Here ye are! I suspected someone was causing unrest in my kingdom! State your business immediately!”

“Holly Molly skunky funky! Little Englishman!” Shouted an excited skunk.

“I beg your pardon sir, I am no Englishman! In fact, I possess no national identity since I am the King myself and the only citizen!”

“Well that sucks, you’re only the boss of yourself…” Chicken noticed critically.

“Most of the time – yes, But now I can boss you, since you dared to enter my realm! I have total control over my domain! You shall answer for your insolence in my throne room!”

“Truly, truly, one can only ever be the boss of themself. The laws of free will dictate that one cannot be forced to do something against their will, only forced to use their will in a way they wish they wouldn’t. While this may seem convoluted to the layman, I assure you, it is the truth. Therefore, no matter how many citizens you rule over as king, you will always be the boss of you, and you alone.”

Chicken’s beak dropped to the ground as he looked to see it was Lemon Skunk who had spoken.

“When did you stop being an idiot?”

Skunk smiled stupidly, and said,”Rickety rackety, think think happen sometimes.”

The dwarf looked back and forth between them for a little bit, confused, then shook his head. “Your insolence will be punished all the same!”

He shouted almost regally and clapped his hands twice. And suddenly they got sucked into something resembling a whirlwind that spun them violently for a moment and then released them mid-air. They started to fall, not sure which way was up and which way was down until they landed in a pit full of mud. They laid confused for a moment until someone standing over them oinked loudly.

“Could you not teleport to my pit?”, asked the angry pig looking at them.

“Sorry Morris,” said the dwarf, “I’m still working on my thing…”

“Yusa said no other citizens in yusa country?” Skunk demonstrated a surprisingly sharp mind again.

“He is no citizen, but a political refugee…”

“I prefer to call myself a war refugee.” Pig said proudly.

“Ummm, what?”

“I escaped the tyranny of the meat industry and took refuge in this magical land. I’m planning on writing a great novel about the exploitation of animals in this cruel world…”

“Yeah? How you gonna call it?”

“You’ll love it.” Morris stood upright, raised his hooves like he was preparing to present the greatest idea in human history, and said,”My Fight!”

It got awfully quiet. Morris looked at dwarf, chicken and skunk with excitement.

“Eh? What do you think?”

Chicken took the responsibility to say it.

“I believe it needs polishing. But you’re on track for sure!”

And then they escaped before the pig started elaborating. They had landed in a pig's pit, but indeed there was a palace next to it, or at least a nice looking castle. But the most impressive thing was the bushes of sweet green weed growing on all the grounds surrounding the palace. Dwarf led them inside.

“Sorry guys for teleporting you, I’m awfully stressed lately, that’s why all that fuss with entering my domain and all.”

“Stressed dwarfey shoulda heva smokey,” started Lemon Skunk.

“Forgive my friend, he makes no sense most of the time. But I believe he is right, why don’t you just smoke some weed that grows around?”

Something startled in the dwarf, he shrugged a little, winked nervously and they suddenly knew, they hit home with that question.

“Because I hate bongs! And all that is in that damned castle are bongs! Not a single roll of paper!”

“Hey! I also prefer rolling!” said Chicken and started to look for something in the skunk's bag.

“And maybe it’s no long term solution, but look what we got.”

He handed to Royal Dwarf the Bannacis Rolling Tray with the joint paper and Lemon Skunk’s stuff. Dwarf’s eyes widened in wonder, as if he was seeing something beautiful for the first time in his life. He took it carefully, looked at it with amazement and then he did the Thing. And so, they had a joint.

Royal Dwarf lit it and took the first puff with almost sacred solemnity, and then he exhaled. And it was like all his troubles were forgotten, he just floated down on his chair with a smile on his face.

“Oh man” he started “I feel like I could nurse at my mother’s breast again.”

“Ugh man, gross.”

“Sorry. Oh yeah, that’s what I needed. All right, now I can tell you the rest…”

So they went to the kitchen, where they could find some food. They finished the joint and Dwarf started his history.

“I hate bongs, man. And it’s funny, cause my royal family is known for being those who were first to understand the great bong mystery… And they got rich by producing and selling them. And it was like this…”

“My great great something something grandpa was Flavious McDooder and he was working on making something like a chamber pot but with running water…”

“Like a toilet?”

“I totally have no idea what that is, do not interrupt. So he made those chairs that you can sit on and then you do your things and all and then water just takes it away. Everyone laughed at him and they were like ‘Look at Flavious, fancy Flavious won’t crap in the forest.’ So he got really mad and wanted to have a smoke, but then he realised that he had no rolling paper! But he had this silly pot!”

“So he just put some pipes here and there, lit the stuff and voila! You have a bong! And bong high!”


“Not cool! Not smoking cool! You take a puff and it’s so aggressive, it fills your lungs and you cough and ye wanna crap yourself!” Dwarf got a little upset. “Sorry, I got upset. Where was I? So he discovered the bong. And he decided he'd be making bongs, not chamber pots with running water. I have no idea why they loved it! But he got rich. Then he died and when they buried him they put a monument over his grave- this giant crapper!”

“So our family got really rich. And after a few centuries almost every house had this big bong-chair.”

“So that’s what they are for…”

“And then my other something something grandpa Julis, came up with the idea, ‘Hey! Why don’t we make small bongs? Like portable?”. And so he made little bongs as we know them today and we got so rich we just bought ourselves a kingdom. And so here I am! Kind in the castle! And in every chamber there are tens of those smoking little glass defecators! And all I want is to roll joints!

It got quiet for a while, so Chicken took the liberty of rolling another one. While he was lighting it up, a sudden question came to his mind.

“Why don’t you just get some paper?”

“Cause of the war?” Dwarf said with a surprised voice, as if it was totally obvious.

“What war? I’m not from around here.”

“All right, buckle up, here’s another story…”

They smoked the whole joint they had before continuing.

“When we settled around and started growing weed for our bongs, goblins came. And they loved our weed. But they didn’t want to pay for it! So they decided to steal it! And so became the Weed Wars”

“Weed Wars?”

“Weed wars. And they were bloody. Many dwarves have fallen. And well, goblins, but who cares. So the war took a long road to its end, and our families almost went extinct. I’m the last of my kin… And there is still one green greasy smoker around… He lurks in the forest and sometimes steals my weed! My weed!”

“But how does all this connect with rolling paper?”

“Goblins are the only ones around who know how to make rolling paper! Their grand grand something father was called Benjamin… ugh I don’t remember. He was working on making some green paper for the government or something. But then he dumped it and started making the best rolling paper in the universe.

“Good GrapeGod, the best rolling paper? Seems like something we have to try, huh skunk?”

“Yey yey, and spray it a little with my skunky rain, sprinkle sprinkle smelly joints!”

“… but they cannot grow good weed. No goblin can. So they either grow garbage or steal it. And I know this smoker steals my weed, and then rolls it perfectly with those greasy green hands…”

“Seems like a stalemate mate… Let’s get high.”

This was the only idea they got. So they pulled the rest of the stuff they brought, rolled it and started smoking the wraps one by one.

3. Useless teachings of Big Buddha Cheese

They got so high that it was even stronger than the first time. And again time seemed to leave the equation, they floated on the surface of reality not knowing whether in minutes or ages…

And then Chicken felt that he was floating faster and faster, like he suddenly fell into a quick stream but with liquid lighter than air. And so he swam through eternity, and then the stream ended and it was like falling from a waterfall but also rising to the sky. And suddenly he was in water again, but now pleasantly chilly. It was neither night nor day, because countless stars reflected in the pond and it was so bright, almost like the sun was under water and was dimly shining through the surface.

He looked around, water was still, there was nothing in every direction except a small island ahead. So he swam there, and even though the island was tiny when he first saw it, it started to grow rapidly, almost like he passed hundreds of miles in what seemed like a five-minute swim.

And then he was lying on the beach, on the nicely cold sand. And he was no longer he, for when all the troubles of the world vanished, sucked out by the comforting water, there was nothing heavy in her and so she was. She stretched out on the sand like a cat, and then stood up.

The island was enormous, with a big mountain crowded by stars. And there she went. Again, the journey that should’ve taken so long passed like a wink, and suddenly she was at the flat top of the mound, from where vast views extended before her eyes. Only one big willow tree grew there, and under that tree sat a big bald person, chewing something slowly, holding in one hand a big piece of cheese, and in the other a funny looking joint.

He opened his eyes, looked at her, smiled and extended his hand with cheese to her. So she approached, grabbed it, smelled it and took one big bite. The taste was another adventure in itself, a true adventure to flavour hippie village. It was the best cheese she’d tried in her life, a little hard at first, but then milky smooth, with so many fragrances and flavours.

“Mmmm, it’s delicious.” She said with a full mouth. “What is that?”

Bald person smiled widely and said slowly, with a deep throaty tone, “Cheeeeseee.”

“Oh. And who are you?”

“You can call me Big Buddha.”

“Okay Big Buddha with Cheeeseee. What are you doing here?”

“I’m eating cheese and getting high.”

“Cool. So… is that all you do?”

“There is nothing more to do in life, just eating cheese and getting high.”

“Seems good to me. So you just sit here? Like for eternity?”


“Like from the beginning of the world till the end?””

“The world began so recently and will soon end. I’ll be sitting here eating cheese even after that. Until I eat so much cheese that I become one with the cheese and then I will be cheese and will lay here maturing until another dude comes and starts to eat me.”

“Seems like a circle of life.”

“Yup. We will all end up as cheese, sooner or later.”

“So you are like... eating another guy from before you?”


“So what have you been doing before eating cheese?”

“My name was once Roman and I was a sales manager.” “That sucks man.”

“Right? So I got so high I ended up here. And here I am.”


“Come sit by my side, try some cheese and weed.”

And so they sat together, eating cheese and smoking weed. Chicken realised that the cheesy Buddha really started to resemble cheese a little. There was still much eating to do, but he was half way there.

Slowly eating cheese and smoking was the only thing Chicken wanted to do. Then, from far away, she felt a sudden calling. It was her skunky friend, lost in the dwarf realm. So she stood up and said,

“Eating cheese is cool but, I think I still have things to do in that world that’s going to end.”


“I know, right? But I gotta go.”

“Ok, go.”

“So, you're not gonna say something? You, the guy sitting under the tree on some island, you’re supposed to have some wise sayings or something.”

“Hmmm…” Buddha focused, as he was looking for something in his mind.

Then he smelled the cheese and said “When your rear itches at night, your finger smells in the morning.”

“Hmmm, that’s totally true but unhelpful…. This dwarf I know is having trouble because he has a bunch of good weed and only bongs, and he hates bongs…”

Buddha sat silent for a while, took long puff and then said:

“To make cheese you not only need milk. You need a guy on four legs with long honkers that makes milk. And he does not make milk on his own. He needs to eat grass. And grass does not grow on it’s own, it needs ground and sun and water, and other guys that defecate on it so it’s fertile…”

And then he said no more.

“That was also totally random, You know what, just eat your cheese, see ya!”

And just like that, the chicken left. She started walking down the mountain and suddenly slipped on some rock. She started to fall faster and faster and suddenly… She was sitting in the dwarf’s kitchen.

4. Like Goblin, Like Dwarf.

She was confused for a moment. Was that real? Then she looked around. Skunk and Dwarf were sitting at the table, eating from a big plate on which lay many snacks, and lots of cheese. Then, a revelation came.

“I think I know how to get you rolling paper.” Chicken said. “I just need one of your bongs. And lots of weed.”

“Sure, take what you want.”

So they took a big bong, a few branches of already dried weed and left the dwarf's palace.

“Where are we walkin’ my dear cockadoo?” Skunk asked.

“We need to find this goblin fella.”

“Holly molly greenoli, how we gonna find tis greasy goblin?”

“We are not, it’s he who is going to find us. Or rather this weed.”

They entered the forest and walked for a while. Then they scattered some weed around and put the rest on a stump in the middle of the clearing they were in.

“And now we wait.”

“So… maybe a little smokey oyki?”

“Why not…”

And so they smoked. It didn’t take long, because goblins have long noses and can smell weed for miles. That is why, rather quickly they heard strange noises of someone lurking around, checking bushes, uttering nonsense words to itself. And there he was. Green Goblin. A little creature bent to the earth, looking everywhere, molesting every rock and root with his long fingers. When he noticed a big pile of weed he cried aloud with joy and rushed to it.

Then Chicken and Skunk came out of hiding.

“Excuse me dear sir, could we take a moment of your time?” Chicken asked politely. Surprised, Goblin jumped, grabbed as much weed as he could. and rushed a few steps away from them.

“Please don’t run, we come in peace!”

“Whata you want?” he asked with a husky voice. “First of all, please, take all this weed, it’s for you.”

“For me?” he asked doubtfully - “from who?”

“From your old pal that lives in the palace.”

Goblin hissed and made a few steps back, grabbing large branches of weed.

“Dwarf filthy, bad, I piss on his bushes.”

“We know we know… but listen. Your families have been fighting for generations, and now it’s only you and him. You didn’t even participate in those wars, correct?”

Goblin thought for a moment and then nodded.

“So he got tired of all this fighting and sent us with a peace treaty.”


“Yup. You see, we get that you like dwarf’s weed.”

“Dwarf weed good weed.”

“So he decided to allow you to take as much as you want.”

“Really? Where’s the catch?”

“There is no catch. Look, he even gives you his most valued family heirloom.” Chicken extended the bong to Goblin. He was cautious at first, but then curiosity took the better of him and he got close enough to grab it and examined it carefully.

“Mmm nice work, very advanced yes… But goblins no do bonga bonga…”

Then Skunk joined the conversation, “Maybe goblin will lika lika bonga bonga?”

“Hmmm, maybe maybe.”

“So it’s settled!” Said Chicken excited, “There is one thing you could do as a token of this new friendship…”


“You see, our dwarf friend is very eager to try your famous rolling paper, and by the way, I am also very curious about it.”

“Ye mean tis one?”

Goblin asked while searching for something in his pocket. Then he pulled out a black and yellow pack of the famous Bannacis Rolling Paper.

“So that’s what the legends have been speaking of?” Chicken looked at it with awe.

“1 ¼” All Organic, Hemp Rolling Bannacis Papers.” Goblin presented it and while he was articulating every word, you could tell that from afar, music of ancient reggae could be heard. “Let’s roll!”

“Oh yeah baby, let’s ban!” Skunk exclaimed vigorously, “let's bana higha weeda wooo.”

So Goblin took a proper amount of dried weed and rolled it so perfectly, they couldn’t believe their eyes. His moves were smooth and quick, and yet so gracious… It was like a silky veil dancing on the wings of a hurricane. When the work was completed, he presented The Joint, and Chicken and Skunk could not take their eyes off of it.

“It’s the most perfect geometrical figure I’ve ever seen…”

And so they sat and weeda woooed.

5. And They Lived Highly Ever After…

Later that day, when the glorious influence of perfectly rolled joints dropped, they bid farewell to Green Goblin and invited him to come to the palace as soon as possible. Then they received a treasured pack of rolling paper and rushed to the Palace.

Dwarf greeted them with anticipation, and when he saw a pack of rolling paper in Chicken’s winghand, his eyes widened.

“How? How did you get that?”

“We come with a proposition from your old pal in the woods…” Chicken started, and again he extended the proposition of peace. When he had finished there was a long silence.

“Hmm, well, that seems reasonable, I wouldn’t be able to smoke all that weed on my own anyway. And to be honest… I piss at war and I piss at my uppity ancestors. All they could talk about is the superiority of bongs over joints and I’m not even sure they liked it really! So, agreed! Let there be peace. As long as I get my rolling paper!”

After a while, a guest came forth to the main gate. And for the first time in history, a goblin was welcomed in the dwarf palace. So they sat all together in the big kitchen, dwarf brought many snacks, among them tasty cheeses, and Goblin rolled plenty of perfect joints sprinkled with power-boosting skunky fragrance. They ate and smoked all night, and when the sun rose again, they all fell asleep.

When Hippie Chicken woke up, the sun was high in the sky, and she was lying beside her stinky friend. She looked around and recognized bushes from around her farm. They were home again, or did they even leave? She scratched her head and found something tangled in her feathers. It was perfectly made by green greasy hands, rolled in 1 ¼” All Organic, Hemp Rolling Bannacis Papers, a joint, sprinkled with a little skunk cologne.

She smiled at the memories and lit another one.

The End.


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