eat.

202020, South eAton. This is a place that no self respecting person would find themselves in. Naturally, I found myself there. The boys and me would call it just “eat.” I’m back for the first time since 202010 and wow, it really is just as I remember. The thugs that thug around but don’t actually mug you. The preacher threatening to eat peoples souls, then actually following through on that threat. As I stood on the Hyperloop the sights brought me both horror and nostalgia.

“Jesus, did you know there’s a hyper-hyper crack now?” my wife June said, perplexed.

“Oh yeah,” I began, “They call it uber-crack. It’s seen by many as a sequel to super-mega crack which people called ‘stupidly named”

June laughed, “So, what, you’re a crack expert now?”

“Something like that,” The sights of the district whizzed by with just enough time to see vague details. Arrests, men being hung upside-down en masse in some misguided effort for justice.

There’s nothing left of our old home, the plasma fires took easy care of that, so our only option is to head for the glitzy Railless Hyperloop and for the much less glitzy South eAton. eat, or Shithole, USoE.