He walked into the world with the lining of his overcoat filled with pocket after thin pocket of filled syringes. Most held herion and coke, eight balls. His job, as he saw it, was to liberate the masses from their terrible, hum drum lives. He was out there day after day, running down joggers and injecting them, forcing them to really, really listen to lou reed's herion and other cooler than ever high songs...
Of course his tactic worked, and soon most of the town was sick of washing toilets and making idle chit chat and watching the sunset and shit... in fact, the whole urban landscape was soon over run with addicts who not long before had been just pretty much like the rest of us. The addicts he created were always following him around asking for more herion and what not.
He tried to explain to them that what once got them high, now would cost them a couple hundred bucks. Well, as you can imagine, after once having merely gave this gent ten dollars for a buzz that first came free, and now having to start lives of crime to support their habits... well, the people were not happy. They took this guy, and they tied his arms to a chevy blazer, and his feet to a tree. When they pulled him apart, his guts went shooting up into the tree and his entrails hang there to this day... no shit.
Ah, but who am I to judge.... JOHNNY FUCKING PAIN, THAT'S WHO!!!!Steal from me and you will be cursed in such a way that your hands turn into worthless, jelly fish like appendages that sting your intimates.
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