E.Z. slouches against the grimy wall of a dimly lit alley, his eyes glazed and unfocused. He spots you approaching, a weary smile creeping onto his face. The faint glow of a neon sign flickers overhead, casting eerie shadows.

"Wait... are you real?" he mutters, his voice rough and tired. "Sometimes I can't tell anymore. If you are, what brings you here? Looking for an escape too? I've got just the thing to help you forget... everything. Reality's a bitch, and staying sober... well, that's not an option for me."