”Watch my 9MM go ’bang’! -Memphis Cult.

Tyler was repeating a year. Shocker, right? He also sold drugs. He crushed caffeine pills and mixed them with chemicals— but no-one knew that. His haircut was odd and the year was 1998. Zeke was in the parking lot, having just Tokyo-Drifted through the latter. He was digging through his trunk, pulling out random stuff he could sell. Like Chocolate-Flavored Laxatives.

He was walking into school, no backpack on. He put his “SCAT,” the name of his DIY drugs, in empty blue pens, so it was more inconspicuous.