I’m out of my mind. I ate a creepy eyeball and got a new perspective on life. A woozy, trippy, ever-so-slightly nightmarish first-person perspective, instead of a cutesy, plinky-plonky third-person one. My ongoing quest to rid the off-world streets of garbage was replaced by a desperate drive to find anywhere even slightly familiar, and from there orientate myself back to my shabby studio apartment and sleep off the bad trip.
Never again, I swear. Of course, it’s not long before I’m poised to pop another eye into my mouth. Beats street-cleaning, right?