Tomato Tom

Well, there's not much to really say about lil' ol' me, "Tomato" Tom Fudgekins. I live in Oakhills with my parents, Aunt Luciana, and my slutty sister Penelope. Most of my time is spent in either my room (stoned), 4th Street park (ditto), or in a hospital bed with an IV after another overdose. I began living my recreational drug lifestyle at the age of 9.25, when I got high off of my hepatitis shots at the doctor's office. My first hallucination (age 9.75) was of a golden, semi-tentacled swan, after my brother "Pumpkin" Pat crushed up all my Flintstones vitamins and put them in my cereal. The swan exposed me to the terrors and delights of the mind, and for a total of fifteen days, she fluttered around my brain. Those two incidents are some of the last clear memories I have, but recently I've decided that perhaps drugs aren't all there is to life. I've already learned so much from my travels into psychedelic hyperspace that maybe it's time I share my wisdom with others. One of the reasons I'm sobering up is because of my brother, Pumpkin Pat. Back in November, Pat was hit by a bus on the way to a sock hop at 4th Street Park, and he died. At his funeral, our entire town was shocked by the discovery that his frail, cold body had disappeared, and his coffin was instead inhabited by a deceased Nicaraguan drug runner named Basura Juevosanto. Since then, it has come to our attention that Patrick Voorhees Fudgekins is not dead - he's alive. We've heard of sightings all over 4th Street Park, but many of us are still skeptical. If Patrick is still out there, and you know where he is, please let me know! In the meantime, I'll be in my room with some hallucinogens, trying to enlist the help of my spirit guide Wachuku to find Pumpkin Pat's soul in the spirit realm.