It started with an explosion. The sound alone whispered to me that i was going to die. The hot breath, the nauseously sweet smell, that great noise crackling against my ears. It was like a dark shadow forming over by face like the cold clammy hands of a killer. It engulfs me, it consumes me. It goes on like that for hours, eventually draining me of all hope and will.

Jason Fetz was no hero, this much is true.
But this is how i feel every time he walks into the room.