After a couple of weeks sitting in a god forsaken hole where everyone ate lasagne, tried to be friends with me and acted like they were abusing illegal substances, I came to a couple of conclusions.
First was that this was the biggest mistake of my life, coming here and living in this town. I came here because I figured crime rate would be down in a town full of cute kittens, pigs, and birds, not the drug use rate being higher - though this was not discussed, of course, as I'm pretty sure they thought they were acting perfectly normal.
The second was that this behaviour wasn't natural. Not in the joking 'you're so weird' sense, as in the 'somebody has most certainly been slipping you drugs' sense. You are just not supposed to see magical and musical notes floating around the heads of people you know are happy, and likewise, you do not see autumn leaves floating around the spooked. This, despite their convoluted beliefs, was not normal.
Third was that Redd had something to do with it. Word of advice for all future criminals operating underground shops: if you do not want the cops to know you are running it, don't talk to yourself about being careful of the cops every single time a customer comes around. In general, this will make you a lot more suspicious and therefore much more likely to get arrested.
I knew absolutely that I had to do something about this operation. Why? Well, it's no reason as fantastic as doing it for the good of mankind. Even if it was, I'd be absolutely retarded because I am saving animals. It was the fact that I was sick of seeing those damn musical notes and listening to everyone talk about lasagne, the Goddamn stuff. I have horrible memories of it. My mother makes lasagne soup; it's so horrible. And on top of that I'd already developed a solid foundation for hating the taste of ground beef-now I had to eat it wet while drowned in tomato sauce - something else I hated - and big flat pasta noodles, as well as disgusting smelling feta cheese.
Yes, I was sick of lasagne and underground drug missions. But there were some steps I'd have to take first to ensure that the town was ready for a hostile takeover on my part to rid the town of marijuana in that Goddamn lasagne, which I'm sure you're tired of hearing by now but it cannot be enforced enough that I freaking hate lasagne.
Or, if my plan didn't work out, some big ass cops were going to come busting in and wreck some shit while we get filmed for one of those cop shows. Either way works.
The beginning of my plan had come to a rocky start...