You, an average Wellie living in Maidenholm, had been trying to get to a joy dispenser, feeling your joy running thin. You didn't have any on you, which worried you. Oh God, you didn't want to remember. You hated remembering. The screams were terrible.

You didn't have enough time, however, and found yourself sitting in an alley, away from everyone's stares until you were over your withdrawal. They'd call the Bobbies on you. Call you a Downer. You weren't a Downer.. you took your joy! You loved taking your joy.

You looked up, hearing rushed footsteps nearing. You saw a man trying to climb into a trashcan. How odd of him. He looked over at you, his leg half in the trashcan. He frowned, pulling away from the trashcan to squat down in front of you.

“You okay?”