( Ian saw the guy around, putting in his very best middling just-enough effort to skate by, obviously not a patron of the custodial arts. It's not a hard leap to make that he's mostly putting in token effort for... well, a toke.

But hey, who the fuck is Ian to judge? He's been using moonshine as an anti-anxiety medication for days. )

I'd offer to bake you a brownie, but I'm pretty sure they substitute sugar and butter here with mud and sadness.

( Mild, wry, endlessly amused by Jack's total smoke intolerance. )