"Wil? Wilbur is that you?" Tommy cautiously tip-toed down the stairs of the brother's current foster home.

"Wil! It's like," He looked at the clock on the oven, "It's like 4am! Where were you, mate?" Tommy was cut short when he got that wretched whiff of meth on Wilbur. It smelt like. . . cat piss. He waited for Wilbur to explain with an expecting look on his face.