Congratulations on Buying Your Dream Meth Lab!

It’s going to be a double wide tractor trailer down by the river.

“Cops don’t like to come here?” you’ll ask the real estate agent, a young man named Shankbone with a shaved head and a tattoo of Madonna circa 1986. Shankbone won’t be a day over 18, if that.

“Not unless they have to. Or is already,” he’ll respond, running his finger along the sawed off shotgun he put on the kitchen counter when you and your partner started looking through the double-wide.

“Any pest problems?”

He’ll shake his head, then nod. “Some rats, yeah. But we got traps for that.”

Your partner will suck air through his teeth. “Rats are kind of a dealbreaker at this price.”

You’ll give him an are you out of your mind? look, but he’ll have a twinkle in his eye that will tell you that if ever you should play along, now is the time.

“But this is a great location. Maybe we could make a deal?” you’ll say, opening and closing the cabinets, searching for any sort of listening devices that might’ve been left there after a previous bust.

Shankbone will shake his head, but then your partner will take him over to the side and start talking to him. When the two return they’ll both look like they just fucked each other over royally and loved doing it.

“Reckon we could make this work for a hundred and fifty less, but we’re gonna need some cookies every month for our real estate office, get my meaning,” he’ll say. He’ll compliment his message by holding up an index card reading meth and pointing to it as he speaks.

“I think we can make that work,” you’ll say, hugging your partner and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. Shankbone will pretend he didn’t see, turning his head towards the door and starting on his way out front.

You won’t be able to bring yourself to care about his discomfort. This is the fresh start you’ve been dreaming of for so long. You’ve worked so hard to get it, and now it’s here. Nothing will break the spell of this moment.

Congratulations on Buying Your Dream Meth Lab!