First I got off the train and headed straight

First I got off the train and headed straight for the shop. I knew he'd be there. I wanted to let him know what was up, you know? Make sure it never happened again.

But the shop turned out to be closed. In an oppressive rain, I stumbled to a nearby hotel to sort the situation. Why did Wallace Brigsby want this crappy novel so bad anyhow?

Perhaps it contained some sort or secret code or cipher? Perhaps it contained a terrible secret that everyone must know? Or perhaps it was time to take his medicine again.

these psychotropic drugs were fun at times but annoying at others; like when he couldn't remember how to blink. His eyes were so dry they squeaked when they moved. Didn't they?

Well it was either that, the new sneakers he was wearing, or his current job as a window washer. "This job is much more eventful when I'm high", he thought to himself while wiping

his face along the side of the high-rise. The drugs made every hair feel oddly sensitive to rubbing against glass. He tugged on a rope, and the system of window-washer pulleys

tied itself into a giant God's Eye Knot. That's when the Flying Hippie appeared to the window washers and the giant God's Eye where the Trade Towers were and said

'Peace, y'all, you wanna puff?' Since they hadn't finished the Trade Towers yet and had a deadline for which they worked like slaves, they gratefully accepted the offer. That's why

the Trade Towers were built with far too little rebar reinforcement and so they collapsed so easily... His Ganja induced ganja conspiracy theory was greeted with