Are you of legal age to consume cannabis related news?
Oh, shit. Did you see that?
Please tell me you saw that skeleton sitting on a rocking chair. Like, sure, I get that it’s a skeleton. But it’s literally rocking. How could a skeleton be rocking in that chair?
There is only one explanation, and it’s that this place is actually haunted and those are some cursed bones, and I guarantee it has nothing to do with the bowl we crushed before this.
Dude… fine, explain away the rocking skeleton all you want. I’m just telling you what I saw. But did you notice there’s now all this thunder and lightning that’s somehow contained within this particular room? How is that even meteorologically possible?!
And what’s with that witch’s cackle that’s perfectly in sync with every thunder crash? This place has some demon spirits in it, I can tell. It’s a good thing I am of very sound mind right now or else we’d never get out of here.
To be fair, we not only smoked, but also had edibles before entering, but still, there’s no way that’s the weed. I think this place is legit haunted. Like, I smoke every day in my living room, and I’ve never seen literal ghosts in the rafters.
FUCK! One of the pirates hiding under the table just stood up and tried to convince me he’s just my actor friend Rob in a costume and I’m actually super baked. There’s no way I’m falling for that — I know a pirate ruse when I see one! You can’t fool me that easily. This place is so haunted it’s committing psychological warfare, going through my mind to pick out my familiar faces and loved ones to screw with me. After all, if this were a regular un-haunted haunted house, there wouldn’t be a pirate — that’s how I KNOW it’s actually haunted.
Wait… what’s this? A kid with a pumpkin bucket filled with candy? That’s the oldest ploy in the book. Look at him, eating his Mike & Ike. That’s so fucking creepy.
Hey, look — there’s a door behind that stupid kid! Out of my way, ghost zombies and mummies with FitBits. I’m getting the fuck outta here! YOU’LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!
Cameron Foley is a comedian and writer. He’d prefer you call him Cam.
