Featuring "Toasts & Smokes," Cannapages 10 kicks off this coming week, and the whole city is abuzz in anticipation. For instance, the local Puff Wizards, Highlands-circuit marathon dabbers of Cannatown, built their own replica of the speakeasy, geared and loaded to mimic the full dab bar.
"It's all about strategy," said team captain Harold Turpsauza. "Nobody should just show up, unprepared."
What else are Cannatowners doing to get ready for the big Friday-night shin-dig? Dispatches went down to Thursday Night Bridge Club at Benny’s Bingo to interview residents about their plans.
“To start, the whole parlor has been getting smaked out,” said weekly attendee Bernice Jenkins. “We always chief like banshees but we’ve been going especially hardcore the last few weeks.”
“Down here we have a little bet going, about who’ll be first to get too obliterated to find the secret door back out of the speakeasy.” Octogenarian Leander Jones is listed as 10-puff favorite over Old Mrs. Montague; the over/under is at 25.5 across most of the parlor.
“I’ve been waking up to a rip-roaring dab every morning for six months,” said Jenkins. “Nobody wants to lose to Ol’ Miss Monty.”
Not everyone is about competition. Harvey Barnes of Sidecarb said he'll be celebrating with pomp and lavish luxury. “I rented a limo. And I filled it with flower I’ve been collectin’ in jars all year long,” he said. “It’s like a ball pit of buds. Now I just need a date.”
“I heard they were gonna have buckets and buckets of dabs. Dabs for all,” said a nearly-drooling Verna Taylor, who now touts around her own little bucket of dablets. Her bridge partner, Potter Brown, countered with a focus on the potency of the fanfare. “I’ve been goin' down to the corner gnoshery for infused fries, and candies, and muffins dusted in keef, and cake so rich and dank that it leaves me sitting sideways on the curb, ready for pickup.”
Brown said he was recently picked up by garbage collectors after such a dining experience, then launched into a 55-minute epic story that cannot be reprinted here. “I survived the ride of my life," he concluded. "That's pretty much par for the course."
Brown is not the only one to throw themselves full-in to what will likely be an unforgettable stone. "I've been just smothering myself in live rosin. Like, smothering, as I walk the trails and even bask in the sun," said Lucy Goosey, author of How to Exist in a Space and head teacher at Cannatown's "Being Institute," the school that teaches you how to be alive, for a four semesters of $420,000.
Goosey plans to incorporate epiphanies from the night into next semester's curriculum on self-actualization, as the party will likely produce one of the most intensely-high experiences of her life. "Doctors say I could be so shocked and moved if I win something in the giveaway, that my bowels, and maybe other organs, will not be able to handle it," she said. "They put me on a stiff regimen of ten dab rips per day, between long sessions of dodgeball therapy."
No matter the manner, one thing was clear and consistent among those who had RSVP'd: zealous preparation for guaranteed oblivion.
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