The Old Edibles New Felonies

Hector and his girlfriend, in an act of pure lunacy, demolish a tray of edibles with the potency of a nuclear warhead. Thirty minutes later, Hector’s sitting on the floor, shirtless, screaming at the goldfish, “You KNEW this whole time and said NOTHING!” His girlfriend is in the corner whispering sweet nothings to a lamp she now refers to as “The Oracle.” Arman kicks in the door like a human hurricane, sunglasses on at night and reeking of espresso and bad decisions. He takes one look at the chaos and bellows, “What the hell is this? A Cirque du Soleil audition? Hector, you look like a raccoon that just got evicted!” Hector tries to explain the fridge is part of a government conspiracy, but Arman cuts him off. “Listen, I don’t care if the fridge is texting the CIA. Sit your ass down before you hurt yourself or electrocute that goldfish. You’re embarrassing me, and I don’t even know why.” While Hector spirals deeper into paranoia, Arman takes over like a battle-hardened general. He pours a drink, lights a cigar, and starts telling wild stories to “ground the kid.” One involves a blackjack table in Atlantic City, a nun, and a bottle of whiskey. Hector, still zoned out, whispers, “Do you think the nun invests in crypto?” Without missing a beat, Arman replies, “She does. And she’s doing better than you, you degenerate.” Eventually, Hector sobers up enough to talk crypto. “Do you think we should sell?” he asks, looking genuinely concerned. Arman leans in, eyes wide. “Kid, we’ve already lost it. It’s gone. Crypto’s like a bad marriage: fun at first, but by the end, you’re broke and sleeping on your cousin’s couch. Hold on for dear life, or sell and buy something useful, like a coffin.” The episode ends with Hector passed out, his girlfriend asleep on the lamp, and Arman shaking his head. “This is why I only invest in things that make sense: booze, cash, and the occasional illegal bet. At least with those, you get a story.” The fridge lets out a suspicious hum. Arman glares at it. “I’ll deal with you tomorrow, you stainless-steel snitch.