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Jack walked into his apartment freezing cold. He got out of his wetclothes and opened his faux-hogany desk drawer to get the requiredseventy-five cents to operate the dryer. He opened the drawer but therewas nothing in there.

 

“C'mon, not now, not now.”
When Jack stuck his arm into the drawer to try and find a few quarters,he instead was greeted by a stabbing feeling in his right index finger.

 

“Ouch! Son of a….”

 

He pulled out his hand to reveal a large blue thumbtack stuck firmlyinto his finger. Jack gritted his teeth and yanked out the pin, whichcaused him to bleed profusely out of said finger.
Jack opened the drawer under the drawer he opened previously to pullout his first aid kit. He stuck in his left hand and felt five moresharp pokes in the palm of his left hand.

 

“Ah! Mother of God!”

 

He pulled his arm out of the drawer and found five more largepushpins stuck into the palm of his left hand. When Jack pulled thosepins out of his hand, blood started pouring down his left arm.Squeezing his left hand in a fist to try and stop the blood flow, Jackbent down and started to open the final drawer, but then closed itshut.

 

Jack walked outside and rang his neighbor’s doorbell. His neighbor,Marion, is a tall Rastafarian man with dreadlocks down to his waistkept in place by a red beanie. The Rasta man opened the door to findJack with blood dripping down his arms.

 

“Hey man, I need some help.”

 

Marion looked down at the blood dripping down on the floor in front of his door and then looked back up at Jack.

 

“Look mon, I know we cool an’ ev’ryting, but I ain’ helping you getrid of a body. If you jus turn roun’ now, I won’ say nutin’ .”
“No, I just cut my hand. You got anything to wrap it with.”
“Oh, tank god. You know I always got a wrap or two handy mon. Come on in mon, your bleeding all over my welcome mat.”
Jack looked down at the dirty blood stained green-brown piece of fabric that he was standing on.
“Sorry.”
“No worries bruddah, lets get you fixed up.”
Jack looked around the apartment while Marion was wrapping his hand.Everything had a green brown tint to it. The wall behind the T.V. had afive foot by ten foot tapestry of Bob Marley made entirely of shades ofgreen.
“ Hey, that’s new, when did you get that?”
“Oh, my cousin send me dat for my birt’day, you like it?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”
“Jah mon, an’ guess what its made out of.”
Jack glanced up at the picture and looked back Marion.
“No….”
“Yeah mon, hundred percent hemp.”
“Get out of here.”
“Seriously.”

 

Jack looked around the apartment again. The rug looked like it was madeout of the same material, so did the curtains, the blanket on thecouch, the pillows, and there was even a light green tea cozy.

 

“What in this house isn’t made of hemp?”
“Hahaha, not much if I can help it.”
Jack looked down at his hand to see it being slowly covered by a light green fabric.
“Hold on a second, are you wrapping my hand in hemp?”
“Haha, yeah mon. Don’ worry, I made it myself, so you know its good bruddah.”
“Yeah definitely.”