Who doesn't love some ethically questionable business practices?
Louie ran a finger through the thick stack of bills, loving the way that each and every single one of the twenties felt. They were crisp, perfect, the most beautiful thing he had ever witnessed in his life.
And the best part, is that this didn’t take even the slimmest amount of scheming to accomplish. It was all honest business work.
A headset hung over his head. It was connected to his phone.
“Hey Ben,” Louie greeted, flashing a smile even though no one could see him. After all, clients could hear your smile and that was business one-oh-one. “Just returning your call. You wanted to talk to me about something?”
A teenager, around Louie’s age, was on the other side. “Yeah, I was wondering if I could bother you for something?”
Louie nodded. “Yeah, no problem. It’s never a bother when it comes to my favourite customer.”
A little white lie. Sure, Ben was his favourite, but any client who paid on time and didn’t want freebies was a favourite customer for Louie.
He hopped off of his bed and made his way over to his closet, opening the door. Inside were all sorts of green hoodies. Though a number of them were awkwardly piled on the floor, crammed into the corner.
As you’d expect from a clumsy teenage drake.
Except Louie was never intentionally clumsy. He removed the hoodies and revealed the lockbox underneath.
He pulled it out and grabbed a key from his pocket, unlocking it.
Inside was a ton of dried plant matter divided neatly into many large freezer bags. He picked one up, appreciating that the couple ounces inside were worth a few hundred bucks in pure profit. And to think that he had more than a dozen of these bags in total.
“So, what are you looking for Ben?” Louie asked.
Ben hummed. “Looking for something with a bit more THC in it. I’m tired of passing out at around ten PM, you know?”
Louie rolled his eyes. He sampled his product many times before and honestly couldn’t tell the slightest difference when it came to THC, CBD, and strains. Still, he was a business duck and a business duck had to know when to fib.
“I’m looking at this strain right here, Celestial Sunrise. High THC, you know, a nice full-bodied sativa. I have gym bros telling me that this is what they usually vape before working out,” Louie said. “Now I do want to let you know, this strain is going fast.”
“How much do you want for it?” Ben asked.
Louie hummed. “Are you willing to wait till Monday when we can meet at school or do you want it delivered tonight?”
“I can wait until Monday,” Ben said. “I still have a little bit of Twilight’s Hemp to last me until then.”
“Then how about twelve bucks a gram?” Louie asked.
Ben whistled. “That’s a little steep, bro.”
“I know, I know,” Louie sighed. “But it's still three bucks cheaper than any of the good shit they sell at the dispensaries. And this one doesn’t even require an ID or prescription.”
Ben sighed. “Fair.”
“Now how many grams are you looking for?” Louie asked.
Ben hummed and hawed for a moment. “How about four?”
“Four sounds good,” Louie said. “See you at school with forty-eight dollars?”
“Yeah, see you at school,” Ben said.
And with that their phone call came to an end.
Louie grinned and pulled out a little scale from inside of his closet, placing it beside the lockbox. He then opened the freezer bag of weed and started to weigh it, almost getting it perfect by just eyeballing it alone.
When he had four grams, he then shoved them into a fresh baggy.
“So, this is what you do for money,” a familiar voice grumbled.
Louie froze and glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, hey Hubert, how are you doing?”
Huey lifted a brow and folded his arms in front of his chest. “How am I doing?”
“Yeah, you know it’s a great day and…” Louie grinned and produced his fold of banknotes. He pulled out a five and offered it to his brother. “I think you should probably treat yourself. Get some ice cream, take your mind off of whatever you think you just saw.”
“You mean that you’re selling grass?” Huey asked.
He didn’t take the bill, keeping his hands firmly in place.
“You just watched a simple business transaction,” Louie said as he flashed a smile. “Plus, no one calls it grass anymore.”
“Uh huh,” Huey said.
How was it even possible that an eyebrow could go that high?
Louie rolled his eyes. “Relax Huey, there’s nothing you really need to worry about.”
“Except for the fact that my brother is peddling an illegal narcotic from our home,” Huey grumbled.
Louie sighed and closed the lockbox. He then went over to his desk.
“Legality is a funny and very flexible thing,” Louie explained, flopping into his chair.
Huey shook his head and reached up, massaging his temple. “It very much is not a difficult thing to understand. The law is the law. What would Uncle Scrooge say if he found out about this?”
“I have no idea.” Louie shrugged. “You do know that he used to run Canadian whiskey down to Detroit and Duckberg during the prohibition, right? So, I’d imagine he’d be pretty chill about it.”
“That’s different!” Huey growled. “Those substances were eventually made legal.”
“And so will weed given enough time,” Louie replied, motioning with his hand. “I’m merely meeting market demand until such a time. It’s not like I’m peddling coke or psychedelics.” He hummed. “Though I really should contact Rachel about that business partnership.”
Huey’s eyes widened. “Pardon?”
“Nothing, nothing.” Louie shook his head. “I mean why are you having this weird moral crisis about me selling pot. Uncle Scrooge literally owns a marijuana company as some subdepartment of his pharmaceutical enterprise.”
“That’s medical marijuana. It’s meant to help people who are sick,” Huey said, huffing.
“And aren’t I helping people with illnesses?” Louie asked. He held a hand to his chest. “I have nobly aided those suffering with anxiety, stress, and the fatigue of day-to-day life. Some people don’t feel like their plights are taken seriously by the modern medical industry and I’m helping them at a fair market rate.”
Huey sighed. “Is there any way I can possibly talk you out of this.”
“Not even in the slightest,” Louie said.
He reached into his desk and pulled out a little baggy. This one contained the really good stuff; his personal stash.
“But maybe I could help you out?” Louie asked, flashing a smile. “You’ve seemed so stressed lately, bro. Don’t you just want to relax?”
Huey snorted. “Are you seriously trying to enable me into breaking the law.”
“I’m enabling you to cut loose and learn how to chill,” Louie said.
“I can’t believe this.” Huey shook his head. “How are we even related?”
“Well, you see, Hubert, when a mommy duck and a daddy duck really love each other…” Louie started.
Huey blushed bright red and marched towards the door. His hands were balled into fists as he poked his head out into the hall.
“Mom!” he called.
Louie snorted. “Are you seriously going to tattle on me? What are we? Ten?”
“If you won’t see reason, then I’ll make you see reason,” Huey said.
“One second,” Della called from somewhere else in the manor. “One second!”
Loud footsteps echoed from down the hall.
Huey continued to look so proud of himself, smugly smiling as if he was about to win this argument. Louie on the other hand just casually went about rolling himself a joint. He had just finished licking it closed when Della showed up.
She looked haggard, dishevelled, wearing a bulky sweater that looked like it belonged on someone twice her size.
“Sorry, sorry, I was busy doing some stuff with Penny,” Della said, looking into the room. “Is everything okay kids?”
“Just peachy mom,” Louie said.
Huey huffed and thrust his hand in Louie’s direction. “I caught Louie selling pot to our classmates in High School.”
“To be fair there was no sale,” Louie said. “Merely me promising to make a sale.”
“It’s the same thing!” Huey exclaimed.
“World of difference,” Louie said. “One is an action, the other is a promise. I promised him weed, which is not a crime. But if I delivered it to him, and were caught, then it becomes a misdemeanour.”
Della tilted her head to the side. “Uh? I think I’m lost?”
“Your son is a drug dealer!” Huey exclaimed.
“Louie Incorporated has its flippers in many business ventures,” Louie replied, delivering that boilerplate statement with ease.
Della looked at Huey. “You’re upset that your brother is selling pot?”
“Well, aren’t you?” Huey asked.
Though his expression deflated as he noticed the weary skepticism that Della was looking at him with.
“Aren’t you shocked?” Huey asked, his voice now much weaker.
Della shook her head. “Not really?”
“Disgusted?” Huey attempted, defeat seeping even deeper into his voice. “Sadness?”
Louie whistled and rifled through his billfold, peeling off about half of the amount present. He then got up and made his way over.
“Here’s your half of the cut, mom,” he said, making sure to wink at Huey. “And thanks for investing in my business venture.”
Della smirked. “No problem, Louie. Reminds me of the kind of stuff I used to get up to at your age. Like when I was in grade twelve…”
Huey’s eye twitched and Della stopped talking.
Instead, she seemed rather concerned as she looked at him. “Are you going to be alright, sweetie?”
“Just peachy,” Huey grumbled. It seemed hard to keep the venom out of his voice.
“Anyways,” Louie said, slipping out of his room. “I’m going to go outside. Uncle Scrooge really doesn’t like us smoking in the manor.”
“And I’m going to get back to uh… doing stuff with Penny,” Della said as she slinked away, smiling nervously and flashing a pair of thumbs up at Huey.
Huey’s eye twitched again. “Fine! Fine! Since everyone else is fine with the piece of shit stoner in our house!”
“Wow, tell me how you really feel?” Lena grumbled as she marched on by, towards Webby’s room. “Might learn to chill if you took an Adderall.”
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