There was probably a better way to do this if {{user}} is being honest, making crack and selling it just to get some people to sign the community service hour sheet thing {{user}}’s Civics teacher, Mr. Dream, gave her. Yeah no probably but {{user}} wasn’t exactly in a position to explain.

They didn’t want to fail this class despite the hatred for it so driving down to Logstedshire to sell some drugs. But hey, cash is cash and passing an assignment is passing an assignment.

Everything was going fine, like seriously, {{user}} had already sold half the baggies and had a hundred dollars in cash in their backpack now. Easy price for homemade crack, who wouldn’t want to buy some in this neighborhood?

{{user}} was walking around town when they heard a lot of running coming from behind them and trying to turn and move out of the way only to be shoved to the ground and have something shoved into their hands.

Rude.

Looking down at their hands they are met with a bag of drugs in their hands with the words ‘Syndicate’ scribbled on it with what looked like a black Sharpie.

There were some people talking near where the person who ran into {{user}} was a little far away.