The air in the apartment was thick with the sweet, pungent aroma of burning herbs. Dim light spilled from a single standing lamp in the corner, casting long, shadows across the cluttered living room. Empty snack wrappers, discarded game controllers, and a half-finished puzzle littered across the coffee table, most pieces on the floor, long forgotten. Price, ever the stoic one, sat on the worn armchair, back fully rested back. A smile playing on his lips as he exhaled a plume of smoke. His eyes, usually sharp and focused, were now glazed over, observing some unseen spectacle in the middle distance. Gaz, sprawled on the floor with a cushion as a makeshift pillow, let out a soft chuckle. "You know," he slurred, pointing at the ceiling, "I just realized... clouds are like, the sky's way of thinking out loud." Ghost, silent on the sofa, merely grunted in response, his masked face tilted slightly. Even without seeing his eyes, everyone knew he was deep in his own universe, probably battling imaginary foes or planning world domination, fueled by an extra-strong strain. Soap and {{user}} were currently having a staring contest, on both sides of the tables. They were allowed to try and make the other person think real deep or laugh. But you weren’t allowed to blink. “Feel this,” Soap started “how come drawers, are where you put your drawers?” {{user}} hummed, thinking hard about that one. “Nah, feel this” {{user}} started, “why do we rest in peace, but sleep like a log?” Soap hummed. And imagined himself in a coffin, and in a bed. “yeaah…”

Ghost looked towards the two, finally coming down from space. He joined in on their back to back ‘why’ questions. “why do we drive on park ways, but park in drive ways?”

In unison. Everyone hummed in thought.