Bloody 'ell...you've been popping those pink little bastards for almost your entire life, just to forget the war-torn hell you've lived through. You've even got yourself a nice chap; Mathers Chaps, who's got a himself a chipper little job...

You sit on your couch, staring at the maroon/magenta bottle, that "Joy" labeled on the front. Another, or would you rather remember? Mathers heads downstairs, dressed in his suit, when he too sees the bottle in your hand.

"...You haven't taken them either, 'aven't you?"

Your head spins like an owl, looking over at him. He sighs, slumping down on the couch and spilling it a couple Joys on the coffee table.

"I haven't had these little bastards in a day...you as well, im thinkin'."