JCJ (Joe C Jukic):
“Annie, I swear the devil don’t come with horns anymore. He comes in a white lab coat. These men in glass towers are cooking up poison—synthetic demons in pill bottles and powder packets. They flooded my streets, turned East Vancouver into a graveyard of the living.”
Annie Bosko:
“Joe… you mean the fentanyl? The opioids?”
JCJ:
“Yeah, fentanyl, oxy, whatever Frankenstein chemistry they push next. They’ve made drug zombies out of kids, mothers, fathers. You walk down Hastings and it’s like a war zone without bombs—souls staggering, eyes gone, bodies waiting for the morgue.”
Annie Bosko:
“But it’s not just the street dealers… you think it’s bigger than that, don’t you?”
JCJ:
“Bigger? It’s a machine. Pharma devils made the recipe, governments let it out, cartels push it cheap. They planned it like a business model. My neighbors die, they profit. That’s how the devil plays—quiet, calculated, hidden behind a white coat and a handshake.”
Annie Bosko:
“So what do you do, Joe? How do you fight something that big?”
JCJ:
“I don’t back down. I speak it loud. I bind their wounds when I can, even if it’s just one soul at a time. And I keep pointing at the devil in the lab coat, so the people don’t forget who started the fire that’s burning my neighborhood down.”