The Cloud Church echoed with the sound of the Rice Boy’s nicotine fix. Dozens of flat-billed wearing, underweight men sucked on the tips of their electronic cigarettes. A deep fruity fog permeated the cramped space, and not one man spoke a word.


“LOYAL TO THE VAPE”

The chant begun.


“LOYAL TO THE VAPE.”

“LOYAL TO THE VAPE.”

“LOYAL TO THE VAPE!”


And so, the Ricer Boys merged onto the highway. Windows down, clouds of white pouring behind them.