Like a lost puppy I wander through the maze of hallways and find myself back in this room. Back where it all began. Or something dramatic to that effect.

"Oh wow... Robbie, that's awesome."

"Can they make corn on the cob on corn on the cob?"

"A corn on the cob, covered in smaller corn on the cobs?"

"Sorry... one second."

We pause this exchange for a couple of brief bumps of ketamine and coke.

"Okay, where was I?"

"Oh yeah, that mighty fine invite to visit a dojo."

"Sounds cool man. I could be down for that."

"I'm a traveler and tend to blow with the breeze though."

"Going where I please and drifting through life like a leaf caught in an updraft."

"So I won't make any promises."

"Hit my cell up sometime though."

"We'll hash the deetz out then."

This is right about the time that I notice Mr. Tidbits. His words are.... nope, I don't have the proper description for those. Hmmm... gun to my head, we'll go with terrifying. Yeah. Like don't drink the Kool-Aid, Jonestown Massacre, terrifying. I should say something though. He's looking right at me. I think?

"Um... ketamine?'

A single clap. Bravo Oliver, bravo.