Do I give people the benefit of a doubt? Absolutely. So when a douchey looking tank-topped Bro in a backwards baseball cap asks me, “Dude doesn’t it smell like fresh-baked bread?” I take a big whiff, and realize he’s let loose a brain-rattling protein-shake fart. Dear God IT’S A TRAP….I instantly begin coughing and stumbling like I’m the duped hero that’s just been poisoned by the femme fatale. Psychedelic colors merge into evil, snake-like shapes before my eyes. “What did you just do?” I gasp. “Why would you do that?” My lungs are dying—withering into black, shriveled pits. As I pass out, I open my eReader to Echo. Magic flash. Suddenly I feel fresh air flowing into my lungs. I open my eyes—the beautiful Jessica Rabbit is giving me CPR. I cough weakly and raise up, just in time to see her grab the bro in a Muay Thai clinch and throw a series of unending knees to his crotch like her legs have become pistons on a steam engine.