You awake in a darkened room. Your wrists and ankles are secured to the heavy metal chair upon which you sit. You wrack your brain for answers as to how you got here but all you can remember is being tazed, and a white van.

A man, his face obscured by shadow approaches, and points the barrel of a gun to your face. He speaks in a gravelly voice:

“Jeans? Or Beans? Jeans… Or Beans…”

This might as well be heaven for me.

4 inches in 12 hours

laughs in Florida

Man, I can barely even find evidence that they once existed. Like I’m being gaslit by Big Candy.

That might be the best possible way to describe it