"my brain just up and walked out on me
the other day" said quentin as he lie
in his hospital bed. "it's not that i
have gone krazy or anything, i just...
well.. i don't know, it's hard to explain,
leave me alone now, i want my much
needed sleep" the man sat by the bed
of quentin very confused, he didn't come
to ask why he was in the hospital he only
wanted to see is he would like to
buy a new set of ginsu steak knives,
as he usually did, every friday morning
before heading down to slum side of town
to buy his drugs and to have a romp
with the local flea infested prostitues.
but this friday morning was different
not because he has so utterly confused by
the words of quentin and hung over
from the previous night but because he
was still on some really bad drugs.
"maybe it's me thats going krazy" thought
the ginsu knife salesman "maybe i
have done far too many really bad drugs
and my brain is shutting down, but
well i guess i'll never know, oh well"
and the salesman packed up his knives
and got into his car and drove to the
slums and bought his drugs and had sex
with his favorate prostitutes, three
or four times because he had sold 10
knife sets that day. his life didn't change....
he later died of a drug overdose.