“Sixx! Nikki Sixx. So he’s all strung out on heroin, right? Decides to do one more dose like he thinks he’s Keith fuckin’ Richards or something. Paramedics get there, take one look and declare him dead. But this one paramedic, he’s a Crue fanboy, right? So he hits Sixx right in the heart with two shots of adrenaline. Bang. Sixx wakes up. What does he fuckin’ do? Goes right back home and snorts a huge line of heroin, passes out and wakes up in a puddle of his own puke. This is after another time he let some dealer shoot him up and OD’d on the spot. Dealer beats the fuck out of him with a baseball bat to stop him from convulsing, then throws him in a trashcan when he won’t stop. Sixx fuckin’ WAKES UP, still alive. I used to think Keith Richards was the fuckin’ man before I saw that shit. Sixx is part cockroach. I’m telling you; nuclear war ever ends the world? It’s Sixx and the cockroaches,” Chad says with finality. “You’re like him, dude.”
“Chad,” Jared sighs, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Look. If anybody pushed Sixx the whole fuckin’ world might end up dead. Dude didn’t need any pushing, know what I’m saying?”
“So…” Jared says slowly, trying to follow, “you’re saying that I push hard enough for both of us?”
“I’m saying you so push hard that you, Sixx and Richards could be the Holy fuckin’ Trinity, man.”
“Jesus, Chad,” Jared laughs, shaking his head. “Where the hell do you come up with this shit?”
“Hell if I know,” Chad says, and Jared can almost hear him shrug through the phone. “Maybe I’m the fuckin’ Holy conduit. So. We straight here, or what?”
lmao