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On some nights, I still believe that a car with the gas needle on empty can run about fifty more miles if you have the right music very loud on the radio. Hunter S. Thompson
Maybe when I took my friends’ hands and plunged us into the screaming, haunting, fucking weird cyclone of souls, I’d had a few expectations. One: that we might join the shriek fest for all of eternity. Two: that we’d get spit out into the fiery flames of Mordor, where I assumed the devil sat like the evil eye of Sauron in some tower. I guessed that would make me and the guys hobbits in this scenario, and that was fucking wrong. Of course we would be elves or something equally cool in the Tolkien universe.
