When you threw a fit because your favorite TV show was cancelled and punched a hole in the ceiling and found out it was stuffed with cotton candy, you thought you’d hit the jackpot. Then when you ate the cotton candy and a thousand needles stung your tongue and your throat you were like “Weird,” and you swallowed because maybe it was some fancy gourmet cotton candy. Later when your tummy started gurgling you thought maybe you ate too much of that expensive European cotton candy and you were not technically wrong. You thought maybe when you woke up and your joints were on fire and your muscles felt like they had nails through them that maybe you hit the gym too hard that one time you went three years ago but then you though that probably wasn’t it because you only did treadmill and that doesn’t work arms. You thought maybe when the EMT asked if you had eaten anything unusual in the past twenty-four hours and you told him just some of that cotton candy while you pointed at the cotton candy and his eyes got all wide that maybe he was going to eat some too but he didn’t and you thought that was weird. You thought it was weird how everything got really blurry in the ambulance and you can’t remember much after that. You don’t think much at all anymore; not that you ever did.