Chapter 2 (charles experiments with alcohol)

Charles James McJackrabbit woke up. He chugged a bottle of whiskey down. He was drunk out of his mind. He listened to tool. The Patient to be exact. He hated being drunk. He just felt like he was out of control. Like all his emotions had the power to (-) him over. He hated it. It was like an evil substance that was designed just to destroy him. Why would anyone want to drink? WHY WOULD ANY SANE HUMAN BEING WANT TO PUT THIS KIND OF THING ON THEM? It's disgusting. It's seriously the most filthy, retarded thing to do. Why would you even destroy your mind with such a thing? It's like exposing an open wound to salt. Imagine bringing your deepest feelings out to the surface just to be tortured, just to be (-)ed with. Just to make yourself feel like your whole life was just a waste, just leading up to a single moment where you feel like your whole existence was just a joke, just God seeing how much he could torture you and (-) with you. Like why does a fermented substance create the state of mind of being drunk? James had no idea and he didn't care. He put his .50 cal pistol to his head and pulled the trigger. His head exploded.

the end