II

[CBPD voicemail]

Sir, you need to mow and pull your weeds at once. We allow six inches for both. It’s called the six-inch rule. Your grass is nearly a foot high and your weeds are nearly 6′ tall and we believe may have just swallowed your neighbor’s small dog whole. Some of your neighbors reported that they believe you are growing mutated pot plants in your front lawn. We just mailed the citation out to you. Please don’t bother calling back.

I figured it was something important, it sounded urgent. And I still don’t get my mail, so the voicemail acted as a form of a telegram letting me know I needed to at least inquire about it. It’s nice to know though that as long as I keep them under six inches I could be growing pot plants in my front lawn like they all assumed anyway. I recognized her voice. She was a larger woman, a redhead. She had visited my home for police calls before, ironically also involving a dog.  But it wasn’t her fault. They don’t have mailboxes out here in Cornwall, I can’t imagine they’d allow Redbox’s either. I was in the need of watching a film in the background as I attempted to sort out what was going on. YouTube it was. I had purchased Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas but had yet to watch it yet. This would be an important source material for the adventure I was about to partake in. After all, I was headed to Vegas and was planning to get weird. Or perhaps the weird would get me???

Weird had a way of finding me. Perhaps that’s because all letters can be found in my name? We lived together as one. There was a feeling of inseparability like that in which you would find with twins who do everything together. They develop an almost telepathic vibe to where you can see, feel, taste, and even smell what the other is doing. The latter is perhaps the weirdest of all because you begin to realize that life and death smell the same, we just give them different names.