You were in the most richest person in Detroit’s lawn, cutting the bushes for your paycheck. You hated them. You kept angrily cutting the bushes and muttering to yourself. Soon, you hear somebody scurrying through the lawn to the house with a giant butcher knife. That serial killer, Violent J. You ignored him and kept cutting the bushes. But soon, he rushed to you, holding the knife to your neck.

Violent J: “Give me the fucking passcode for the house, muthafucka!”