Finish your last joint.

As you take your third hit and blow out the smoke a relaxed feeling overtakes you. The endless darkness of the tunnel is almost soothing. A strange plant powered robot opens the door to the small observation deck that you are standing on. Its green light flashing and local laws being recited too quickly to understand. A very robotic but authoritive tone. "Sentence will be executed" is all you make out clearly as the robots graping pinchers grip you so tight they break bones and tear flesh. Holding you over its head it recapitualtes your crimes of importing a murderous substance which carries an immediate abort penalty. ABORT. You are tossed to the rails. Your final seconds are filled with a brief pause and a tumble into death at the wheels of the train.

⤓

The End