Now, at the gates of this miserable new domain I observed two staid and lively characters dressed in suits and ties and a long red evening dress. None other than Ronald and Nancy Regan, smiling cheerfully, "Just say no!" they chirped in unison. A shiver came down, the cold spread through me. The muffled screams could already be heard beyond the crystalline gates, the jagged meth bars barely able to hold back the anguish of the countless souls trapped in that pit. My master informed me that no one was allowed to speak here, with their mouths and nostrils tied, for fear that they might feast on the drugs around them. The aim was to remind them of the pleasures they once derived from waves of smoke filling the air and from crack-strewn gravelly rocks on a cocaine beach. They stare for eternity at the dose they will never receive. The first to be accused were those who abused the alkaloid cocaine, buried in piles of it, some with their heads hanging out, others with only their feet. Everyone lashed out furiously with bloodshot eyes and disheveled hair on sweaty faces, all caught in eternal retreat. Among them I noticed Scarface himself, Tony Montana. His once-in-a-lifetime fire had dwindled to smoldering desperation as he repeatedly pressed his face into the mound. His eyes were dripping with tears from the powder he so desperately wanted! There was also Freud, with his genitals stuffed with that stuff, overstimulating them as he had once written so voraciously. Moving into that sector we came across the freak shows and depletion of psychedelics. Since they once thought that in life they were all one consciousness, here instead they were represented as black specks completely separated from each other. Funny drawings… in the center of the paper… on a floating drum the smoke would instantly suffocate them, causing their grip to weaken and fail. “Behold the drunkards and smokers,” Virgil proclaimed, “their indulgences were legal and the most terrible of all, forever they will struggle and flail in a pool of their inability to moderate. Many of them have tried AA but did not accept the higher power, so here they are slipping from their barrels into the drink for all eternity.” “And what about those who smoked the seven-pointed leaf, the consumers of the devil's lettuce himself?” “I assume you mean cannabis smokers?” Virgil replied: “Because I'm in heaven, of course! What do you think the clouds are made of except that they come from the water pipe of Christ Himself!” And with that we moved on to the next circle, I had seen myself full of substance gluttons, I knew I would never go down that road.