The flicker of a lighter echoes through the hallway as a dancing flame lights up the scene. It reveals afreshly rolled joint, now lit, and a set of grinning teeth. The camera zooms into the face, as lips take a long drag. The flake flickers off but is quickly replaced by flickering bulb next to the face. Who might this be?

“You ever wake up in the morning, turn to your bedside table, reach for your lighter and your pre-roll only to realise there isn’t one there?”

The man’s eyes roll back, as he takes another drag, the some from the first blowing out through his nose.

“Your head throbs from a long night, and all it wants is the sweet release of your morning bake. But there isn’t one.”

He exhales once more, filling the lens with the fresh, sweet smoke of marijuana.

“Pain, frustration… Hunger. That’s what you feel. You need your fix, but it isn’t there. I need my fix, but it isn’t here.”

He lifts the joint up to the camera, tilting his head.

“Oh, this? I never run out of the beautiful green. I’ve never felt that because of missing out on a morning smoke, no, no. Every morning I wake up and yearn for a hit, a strong kick to the groin to truly make me feel alive… I’ve tried it all, gone down the list of narcotics and psychoactives – they’ve fed me thus far.”

He takes a long drag this time, eyes fluttering in bliss.

“You know what they say about the addict though, the need always returns, and the same substances simply never satisfy. I’m Johnny Mandrake, you can call me Johnny, Sir, Daddy… Whatever you want. I’m looking for the next drug, I need that next thrill. XWF… You better be the right hit because this just isn’t doing it anymore.”

He drops the lit joint, slamming his foot down on it as the bulb flickers off and the screen turns to black.