I think the most recent time I used poppers was a psychological battle between me and Pleebus itself. Very few actually see his glowing red eyes in action but I knew I had to best them and my go-to for deterring
that kind of thing was a good whiff of some alkyl nitrites. The thing is, when I wasn't looking, Pleebus turned them into gasoline. I woke up 14 days later in a Denny's Parking lot off of Madison Avenue.
The thing about waking up in a Denny's parking lot off of Madison avenue is that people assumed that I owned the store. I walked in there and everyone congratulated me on 14 years of retirement.
I asked what was going on and an old latino guy turned to his kid and said "it seems like they have no idea what is happening right now". I left and found some pants in an alleyway (one must imagine
adequate infrastructure in this area to facilitate an alleyway) and the pants came alive and asked me where my mom was. I told them that she's probably at work and it responded with "are you a boy or a girl",
to which I replied "idk does it really matter?" and it replied "yes because if you're a boy then I get to tax you." I asked what the tax was supposed to be and the pants replied with "57 dollars in royalties
to all pants that have ever existed every time you wear pants". I obliged and now I am in trillions of dollars of debt while all pants ever have used my royalties to pay into the United States military.