Examining the lives and morality of young people at the dawn of the Jazz Age

I took Alpha Chi Delta’s keys and noclipped him.  I told him his “brother” was around with food and water in the land of endless yellow walls if he could find him.   

I parked his Mazda CX-5 by a trailhead.  While I was driving his car I thought that I should get a sedan or a vehicle with a trunk if I’m going to keep kidnapping people.  Too bad I didn’t steal that Fresno BDSM van.  That would be perfect for kidnapping. 

I drove my car back to his apartment to look for the book.  I should have considered that he might have a roommate.  That’s a normal thing for people.  I forget that.  When I walked in at 3 AM the lights were on and a shirtless dude that looks a lot like Joshua Stradowski was in the kitchen struggling to make cookies on a George Foreman grill.   

My instinct was to grab him and throw him out the window.  I was in a bad mood.  I need to watch out for that.  Instead I told him that I was partying with his boy and he sent me to get “the stuff” and I’d be out of his hair in a minute.   

He blinked at me for a while and then asked if I knew how to make cookies.  I told him just to squeeze the dough-tube into his stupid mouth and skip the middleman.  hH was blown away.  He showed me where Alpha Chi Delta keeps his stash.  That stash consisted of a baggie of pills, a gun, a little glass bottle of something clear, a wad of cash, and This Side of Paradise.   

I never would have looked at that book twice if it was just sitting around not hidden.  Why would I?  Hiding it made me think that it had to be The Book.  Is that irony?  I flipped through and stuffed in the middle were thirty or so wrinkled brown pages that felt like they were made out of newspaper. 

Those thirty pages discussed the magical potential of blood sacrifice.  Accompany that was a bunch of “do as thou will” evil magic bullshit philosophy.

There were also step by step instructions on how to make a magic talisman.   

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