We randomly selected a roaming State Street vagrant, and asked him for his story. From this poorly thought-out premise, we got

A Liberator Interview With
S h a g g y

"Man, way back in the '70s (I think it was the '70s) I had an adventure. And damn if I didn't deserve one after all the psychedelic shit I pumped into myself during the '60s. (I think it was the '60s). By the time I met the others, I was waaay fucked up. They were a bunch of establishment kids trying to relive the '60s by picking up a deadbeat and his dog. Yeah, I had a dog. Called him Scooby Doo. Now that's a name only a full-time freak could think of. Yeah. Anyway. In the spirit of man-animal friendship and shit, I gave my dog drugs. Call them "Scooby Snacks" or some such. A variation on marijuana brownies. Hey, dogs deserve mind expansion, too. The three kids that picked us up were named Fred, Thelma, and Daphne. Fred was independently wealthy and he financed our whole groovy trip. Thelma was some sort of 4.0 scholarship student. And Daphne was just hot. Wouldn't of minded boning her, but I was too wasted to think of it. I think Fred did, though. Did I tell you my dog talked to us? Yeah man! Probably some sort of LSD side-effect. He had a doggy accent, but he could talk.

Anyway, we like ate food a a lot; cleaned out whole refrigerators at a time. And we fought monsters. The others always proved that the monsters weren't real but damn it, they were! Did I tell you about the time we met Batman and the Three Stooges?"

[Shaggy falls over, convulses]

"AAAAAGH G-g-g-g-g A shit. Sorry. Sorry man. Flashback, you know?"

[At this point, we thanked "Shaggy" for his time, and hurried back to the parking garage.]