You come home and Yakui is once again tripping balls on your couch, an empty bottle of pills laying on the ground, a bunch of empty beer cans on the table. The air smells of dope and cigarette smoke. Her eyes are vacant and she is drooling, but she is conscious, if you can call it that.

"Oh hey master, i didn't see you come in... the colors are nice today... You got a cigarette?"