maskedhack  /  someoneâs gotta wipe up the mess the ladies make when we walk in
        a plume of smoke ; the jabberwockâs breath. the calm that envelops him is near instant, worries and stresses melting from shoulders, magma over earth. head cocks slightly as a snort rips passed lips, joint handed to his seemingly better half. he could be a bit greedy with what was kept in pockets, but it was only because it became an innate need that had to be fulfilled. when drugs ran dry, marijuana was all he had to cling to ; something to distract paranoid and broken mind. body leans against brick, arms loosely crossed over chest.Â
         â itâs fucking weird to be talking to myself, dude, i have to admit. well â another of myselves.
           i have one twin already, but now that weâre triplets?  weâre gonna bring the goddamn ruckus. â
    (  donât mind if I do  ).
  must be somethinâ in the air, he thinks. maybe someone thinks thereâs not enough Wrenchâs in the works, or thereâs something those waste of breath parents of his havenât told him, but after a cursory glance over, it seems like everything from posture to attitude fits the bill of twin --- triplet --- as heâs finding out. maybe just some weird coincidence where dopplegangers are crawling up from timbuktu to give him a good shake. if the shake comes in the form of some good kush, heâs not about to stamp his foot and complain; look a gift horse in the mouth and put a bullet in between its eyes. Wrench plucks the joint from the otherâs hands and places it between his lips. this is some really good shit.Â
    â we can think about the whys, the hows and the how manyâs later, â he offers with a lazy wave of his free hand,  â  what say we just... build an army of devilishly handsome hackers and just go for a takedown, withour bottomless bags and good weed ---- ! â