San Simeon

I have a sandwich named after me. It's called The Siren. Several prime ministers and presidents from various countries have tried it, apparently, and -- this might be complete bullshit -- it appears to be very popular in South Sudan and New Burma. I read that on its Wikipedia page, but the article is rife with "citation needed" tags and seems to have been written by a third-grader, so the article is far from accurate, I suppose, but the sentiment tickles me.

It made me smile. Remy showed it to me when he came to visit. I haven't been able to lift my arms -- nor hold down food -- for a while now, so he held his iPad 7 in front of me and scrolled down whenever I blinked twice. I sneezed and he scrolled all the way to the end by mistake, lol.

Back in 2015, as our fame was rising but prior to when we started trading publicly, everybody knew who we were. Stan was the handsomest, so of course he got the most pub, but I and Remy fared pretty well, too. Of course we did. We were barely out of adolescence and had discovered a cure for cancer. Remember cancer? Probably not, but at one time it was a pretty big deal. You can look it up on Wikipedia. I cured that.

Initially, our plan was to breed dogs and foxes. We tried, and not always through legally approved means. Screw the law, we thought, let's make doxes! And it worked. To this day there has been no officially confirmed sightings of a dox in the English countryside, but they're there. If you are so inclined to look, they're all over the fucking place.

It was by accident that we discovered the cure for cancer. Remy's the chemist, so he can explain it in much further detail than I ever could, but what the formula amounts to is, I believe, dox stem cells and gasoline.

This discovery didn't come easily or without fatalities, however. Stan was shot, dead, coming out of a 7-Eleven; the FDA scoffed at our findings; and I, ironically, have cancer. It's easier to eradicate a disease with a stolen cure and make billions of dollars than it is to cure one of its forefathers, I've discovered.

Good night, people. I'm too tired to continue. I'll see you in Hell or Heaven.

(Unless I see you first.)

I'm comforted in dying because I have a sandwich named after me: The Siren. And I get to see my grandparents!

Why "The Siren?" A tale for another time.