The candy of your youth meets the medicine of your future…
Old Man Witherspoon just rocked the days away on his patio. He always had a bucket of Little Brittons cannabis infused hard candies by his side. He liked to hand them out to his friends in the neighborhood. What he liked most of all is sucking on them. Rarely was he seen without a Cherry Cola flavored edible in his mouth and that’s just the way Old Man Witherspoon likes it. He whittled cat figurines out of old driftwood and waved at imaginary lizard warlocks that sometimes saw crawling on his roof.
The constable had to warn Old Man Witherspoon that there are laws against handing out weed candies. Also, traffic was starting to build around the Witherspoon estate and lines were forming. The people swore that his bucket of Little Britton candies was bottomless. That if you reach inside your entire torso would disappear grabbing for a butterscotch. Old Man Witherspoon was required to ask for med cards and pretty soon they were telling him to get insurance and become incorporated. He would have none of it.
He wanted to live in a world where he could enjoy his pot laced suckers and share them with his friends. The entire county had become his friend by now and total enlightenment was on the horizon. Until the government shock troops came to serve papers. As they crossed his lawn, Old Man Witherspoon got up from his rocking chair, popped in a Blackberry Little Britton and jumped inside his neverending edibles bucket. “He plumb disappeared into some vortex,” is how the sheriff on scene reported what happened. He was never seen again but every year on the anniversary of his disappearance it rains Little Brittons and the community rejoiced.
