Brutal

"This isn't a fake ID," M. Guerro said to Corey.

"Yeah it is," Corey replied. Corey was the President of a company called Corey's Fake ID's. It was not registered with the Secretary of State in CA and only had customers at Palmdale High School.

"No It's not. It's an ID for a psychiatric ward."

"Right," Corey agreed. "It's an ID for a psychiatric ward. And it's fake. Ergo... a fake ID!"

"But..." M. looked at his fake identification card, "Why did you make me this instead of a drivers license?"

"Because you gave me three dollars, asshole."

M. Guerro went inside the Kirby Forensic Psychiatric Center. There were some Doctors there. One of the Doctors had a mustache and stood behind a counter.

Hi, "M. said, "I'm 21 years young. Do you guys have any beer?"

The doctor looked at M. Guerro as though he were crazy and said, "NO! Only Vicadin and Prozac."

M. Guerro thought for a few moments before deciding on a bottle of Prozac. The Doctor then grabbed M. and dragged him down a long white hallway.

"What the hell!" M. screamed. "Where are you taking me?"

"To your room. You're crazy!"

Inside the square padded room M. sat in the corner. He swallowed a Prozac pill.

"Well, at least I'm happy... and the Doctor did think I was 21... so I guess I got a pretty good deal for 3 bucks."