Spike wandered back to his room where he jumped into his bed. He lay up against the head board and looked at the nightstand to find the remote. He flipped on the tube and flipped through the channels. It was no surprise that nothing was on. He sighed and lay there watching infomercials while he hatched the idea to smoke up a session. He pulled out the single gram bag from his pocket along with the Zig Zag rolling papers. He rolled, pressed, stuffed, and licked. Finally, he was ready. He stepped outside onto his balcony and lit up. In almost one hit, he had finished the entire joint. He held the smoke in his lungs for as long as he could. He coughed and wheezed uncontrollably. Now everything around him only made him hungry. He left his room in search of food. His eyes were as red as his fur and he laughed at everything he saw. He found the restaurant and ordered a massive plate of Chinese food.
He paid the bill and left. By the time he was in the hallway, he greened out and collapsed, failing to make it to the room.