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When I was young, the meth house across the street caught fire, leaving it cordoned off by a police fence. Spotting a tight gap in the fence, but next to a huge prickly pear, I thought, Why not? Let's go tamper with some evidence. Squeezing through, I underestimated the cactus' fine hair prickles. The meth lab itself was a letdown—just a charred shell with nothing interesting inside. Karma later struck, and the true struggle began at home, where prickles invaded my bed, clot