His vision was smoggy as his lungs were full of weed-smoke. With lips circled, he locked them against the cloth-veiled clay-pot and wheezed in a gush so hard that both of his inner cheeks almost kissed one another in the middle of his mouth leaving a slit to let the puff in and swept down straight to the lungs. In his levitational glide his senses were benumbed to those boys with nothing to do but jumping into the river and swimming against its flow. As they performed the stunts that will shock the best trained actions heroes of silver screen around the world, his eyes induced a trance-like rage as blood rose into its sleek veins and they appeared his look alone would suffice the whole world to turn apocalyptic. The great universal villains and heroes in the realm of acting should come to him and learn how to strike that look in the eyes. To speak of those unknown boys, swimming relentlessly without any purpose, just to kill some time, had six and eight packs naturally without any trainer -- something to adrenalise the suicidal impulses in the greatest fitness freaks out of sheer jealousy.
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