Day six of the tweeker roundup. Todays harvest was quite plentiful. Several were collected outside of various adult bookstores. Most were middle aged with plenty of mileage on their scrawny, jittered-out frames. We loaded them up into the van and started to roll. Thier twitchy movements and fragmented speech began to annoy the driver so he slammed on the brakes suddenly causing them to smash into a big pile of twisted anorexic limbs and confused shrunken heads. Bill chuckled as they spent the next 10 minutes attempting to untangle themselves. We drove to the end of some deserted trail in the middle of Welches Oregon to "set them free". We paired them up into teams of 3, giving them each a plastic bag containing one of those stupid raver glowsticks and a single soggy peanut butter sandwich. They were told that the first person who could find the stuffed "Clifford The Big Red Dog" and bring him to safety would win a million dollars. On that note, they all darted off into the freezing cold wilderness with nothing but a glowstick to light the way. That is when Rod drove up in his truck loaded with hungry pit bulls that were specially trained to hunt meth addicts. They were all stained red to resemble "Clifford" with a harmless vegetable dye that could be easily washed off. We set them loose and recorded the distant screams and wails while enjoying a bottle of champagne. When the forest became silent again we called the puppies back who returned triumphant and satisfied. We gently wiped thier little faces off with warn washcloths and loaded them back up into the van where they were given treats and praise for thier good deeds... 