It was a cold and windy night, and the sorcerer of “furry hills” couldn’t get out of his cave to chop a log. So, he decided to spend some time perfecting his secret formula to cure his even more secret hemorrhoid. Unexpectedly a witch appeared, seeking refuge from the storm. The torchlight reflected off her soaking-wet bosom and the lonely sorcerer instantly felt a magical swelling under his robes.

They had a good time together. He gave her a foot massage by the fire, and she polished his magic wand. When he thought the night could get any better, she offered a mesmerizing experience in the bottle, Skooma... The sorcerer wanted the recipe but didn’t get it. When he insisted, the witch kicked him in his freshly polished beanbag and abandoned him. The sorcerer sought the recipe in sorrow for many years. He still does. Unable to find the recipe, his despair grew so great that he forgot all about his hemorrhoid.

Anyway, f*ck Hemorrhoid Potter! That same witch showed up somewhere in Utah and gave a lot of Skooma to some dude who is dealing it for a good price, you know what I’m saying? The shit is spreading among Wojaks like wildfire...