🌿 'Inhale Exhale' - A Spine-Chilling Suburban Saga 🇬🇧💨

Just dropped a new audio tale that's not your usual smoke sesh story.

If you love a good scare with your smoke, this one's for you.

Transcript

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Back in the day when I was just a kid really,

me and my mate couldn't bill up at his because he wasn't allowed to smoke at the gaff.

So it became our little ritual,

knock off work,

jump in the motor and go find a spot to have a chat, smoke weed, an listen to mixtapes.

This time it turned out a little different.

Sun's already done one, I pick him up, we fancy something different so we find ourselves cruising down this dodgy dead end near his. There's this little bridge at the end, right?

Just for the cyclists and the wanderers to cross the old river ford.

All surrounded by these moody trees, one solitary flatbed truck filled with construction gear and massive wrought iron fencing.

Like, suttin', out of a horror film.

Off to the side, there's this padlock on a huge iron gate.

And behind that, uh, this old, creepy, massive gaff that's been left to rot.

So, thinking I'm the bollocks, right?

I park up right in front of that gate.

Got a lorry on my right, metal fencing on the left, and that eerie padlocked gate behind us.

So we get to smoking, chatting away, listening to bangers.

Roll it up, light it up,

Roll it up, light it up, light it, inhale, exhale.

Roll it up, light it up, inhale, exhale.

Few spliffs

later, and we're out like a light.

He was out first, and me not long after. To get extra comfy, I've slipped off me trainers.

Pure bliss.

Next thing I know, I'm being violently shaken awake, proper hard mind.

My mate's got this wild look in his eyes, pure terror, pure fear.

Trice mate, they're coming, go, go!

I look the gate, bathed in shadows, face obscured the darkness, two gypsy geezers that had been staying on the land, pulling at the gate, trying to get it open, to get to us.

By this point my mates shouting go go they're coming.

I'm panicking

can't get a whip in gear, the clutch won't go all the way down, gears grinding against metal.

I'm trying I'm trying I shout

the geezer starts trying to climb the fence

My mates pulling on my arm,

then I clock it

my fucking shoes! Jammed under the clutch.

That's why I couldn't get the thing down.

Them two geezers are looking more menacing by the second,

climbing up the gate,

shaking it

Trying to break that padlock,

I lean down to the clutch.

My mate's audibly panicking.

I chuck my shoes in the back seat, get the clutch down, slam the gear, and we're off.

Tyres squealing.

We burst out of that creepy spot and back onto the main road, streetlights guiding us.

From sheer terror to absolute stitches, pure adrenaline mixed with fear has us both cracking up, pure genuine belly laughs.

The adventure is over. Safe to sleep and smoke another day.

Hopefully, more calm next time.