You walk alone through the slums of the city. All the broken Apartment complexes, the run down businesses, even the occasional stray animal quickly receding into the shadows, it’s a bit depressing to see. Suddenly, you hear a voice from behind you. You turn and see a young guy beckoning you closer. “Hey you, come ‘ere!” You walk towards the man. He wears a pair of black slacks with suspenders and a wife beater. “You look like you could use a break from all this business stuff.” He says, “Come inside, I’ve got somethin’ for ya.” You nod and enter the dreary apartment. The man brings you to a room and knocks in a specific pattern. There is a rustling of locks on the other side of the door before a Cuban kid, no older than 15, opens up the door.

You step into a room that looks a bit better than the outside, but not by much. The paint on the walls is chipped and falling apart. The only light source is from a dimming lamp. There lay a mattress on the floor where a bearded vagrant who appeared to be in his forties lies sleeping. You look confused at first, why were you brought to this dump, but just as you reach for the door to leave, you realize what you were brought here for as the same guy that invited you here laid out several packages of white powder on the table in the corner of the house. Suddenly, you begin noticing that there are drugs everywhere throughout the house.

Pill bottles and loose pills cover the top of the radio. Upon the table are pounds if not kilos of Marijuana with different labels on them as to define different strains. Huge rocks of opium are also scattered in various places. Heroin and Morphine lay in already prepared syringes that lay on a counter in the kitchen, right next to a stash of moonshine, whiskey and vodka. You could tell from the looks of the man who invited you in, that he was no stranger to any of the stuff around you. “Welcome to the Detroit Drug Den, friend. No need to worry about payment, everything you see around here is free and open to mobsters. You know, as a thank you for keeping our way of life alive.”

Carefully treading though the "drug Den" Sinfest makes sure to watch for needles on the ground as well as homeless thugs sleeping in the streets. Sinfest wasn't one for much drug use but had hope that he could get a few hits of some f the best kush he could find and since he was told that this place was free why not try some free weed

When Sinfest gets to the house of the small Cuban boy he walks in and has a slight look of disgust on the cleanliness of the house. He was careful not to show it. Waiting patiently Sinfest waits for someone to talk to him about some weed