I want to take your life. I’m not your friend. Why would your brother give you something when I
might want to see you again this weekend?
I’ve counted over 50 ambulances. Every time I turn around, you’re taking what’s mine. I’ll take your shoes off your feet to sell and leave you with socks. As soon as you sleep I’ll empty your pockets.
Dog, I thought you were my man, fifty grand — I know you overdosed but I’ll sell you Fentanyl again. I’ll take your shoes and all your clothes.
Mr. Fentanyl meets an overdose.
