Farmer's_Hat
Sticky Fingers
Whats does the fox say when it eats a "God Mode" brownie? 
The sun-drenched park was alive with the chatter of picnickers and the distant hum of children playing. Amidst the vibrant scene, a sly fox named Rusty sniffed out an unattended blanket, his nose twitching with excitement. His eyes landed on a tantalizing brownie, its aroma wafting up to tease him. Without hesitation, Rusty snatched the brownie and made a swift escape.
As he devoured the brownie, the rich, chocolatey flavor masked any hint of the cannabis within. At first, Rusty felt nothing out of the ordinary. But soon, the park around him began to warp and twist. Colors deepened, and the sounds swirled into a cacophony. The fox's paws felt like jelly, and his mind reeled.
Rusty's eyes grew wide with fear as the trees morphed into swirling vortexes, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers. Every rustle of leaves became a menacing whisper. The fox stumbled, his vision blurring into kaleidoscopic patterns.
Suddenly, a squirrel chattered at him, its voice booming like thunder. Rusty cowered, convinced the squirrel was a harbinger of doom. The world spun, and the fox collapsed onto the grass, overwhelmed by the psychedelic onslaught.
As the effects intensified, Rusty's senses merged. He felt the grass beneath him as a symphony of textures, each blade singing a different note. The sky above pulsed with vibrant colors, like a living, breathing entity.
But amidst the beauty, fear gripped Rusty's heart. He had never felt so lost, so vulnerable. The fox's instincts screamed at him to flee, but his body wouldn't respond. He was trapped in a whirlwind of sensations, unable to escape.
As the brownie's potency began to wane, Rusty slowly regained control over his body. He stumbled to his feet, his senses still reeling. The park, once a twisted nightmare, returned to its natural state. The squirrel, now just a normal creature, chattered innocently as it scampered up a nearby tree.
Rusty, shaken but wiser, slunk away from the park, vowing never to underestimate the power of a cannabis brownie again. From that day on, he stuck to berries and rabbits, leaving the picnic treats to the humans.
The sun-drenched park was alive with the chatter of picnickers and the distant hum of children playing. Amidst the vibrant scene, a sly fox named Rusty sniffed out an unattended blanket, his nose twitching with excitement. His eyes landed on a tantalizing brownie, its aroma wafting up to tease him. Without hesitation, Rusty snatched the brownie and made a swift escape.
As he devoured the brownie, the rich, chocolatey flavor masked any hint of the cannabis within. At first, Rusty felt nothing out of the ordinary. But soon, the park around him began to warp and twist. Colors deepened, and the sounds swirled into a cacophony. The fox's paws felt like jelly, and his mind reeled.
Rusty's eyes grew wide with fear as the trees morphed into swirling vortexes, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers. Every rustle of leaves became a menacing whisper. The fox stumbled, his vision blurring into kaleidoscopic patterns.
Suddenly, a squirrel chattered at him, its voice booming like thunder. Rusty cowered, convinced the squirrel was a harbinger of doom. The world spun, and the fox collapsed onto the grass, overwhelmed by the psychedelic onslaught.
As the effects intensified, Rusty's senses merged. He felt the grass beneath him as a symphony of textures, each blade singing a different note. The sky above pulsed with vibrant colors, like a living, breathing entity.
But amidst the beauty, fear gripped Rusty's heart. He had never felt so lost, so vulnerable. The fox's instincts screamed at him to flee, but his body wouldn't respond. He was trapped in a whirlwind of sensations, unable to escape.
As the brownie's potency began to wane, Rusty slowly regained control over his body. He stumbled to his feet, his senses still reeling. The park, once a twisted nightmare, returned to its natural state. The squirrel, now just a normal creature, chattered innocently as it scampered up a nearby tree.
Rusty, shaken but wiser, slunk away from the park, vowing never to underestimate the power of a cannabis brownie again. From that day on, he stuck to berries and rabbits, leaving the picnic treats to the humans.
After noticing there was a ditch on the other side of the cross street I jumped on the brakes HARD, which caused the back brake to lock up solid. I pulled up on the brake lever trying to get it rolling but no joy. Turning with the brake locked up was not an option so I laid it down on the left side knowing riding through the ditch would not happen. Once I stopped sliding I went over to the bike and assessed the damage. It had flipped over and was laying on it's right side and the battery was hanging out attached with one wire. A number of party goers came over to see if I was ok, I told them I was fine. My left shoulder took the brunt of the blow. Someone called 911 and reported the accident so I got to talk to the cops in my no longer inebriated state (adrenalin is a funny thing) and explained what happened. I had worked for the cop that summer so I guess he ignored my reeking of alcohol. Some people helped load my bike up into a truck and took me and it home. My left shoulder was never the same. Swore off Tequila the next day.
