God bless Warren Pleece, who was once given a script by Neil Gaiman for a short story to run in the It's Dark In London collection, an excellent black and white anthology book (including a From Hell coda by Alan Moore and Oscar Zarate), and read the part in the script where a bunch of New Zealanders using a broken lemonade bottle to smoke cannabis, and obviously had no idea what he was on about, so drew this:
That's not how you sucked the smoke through a broken bottle, mate. You'd cut your fucking face doing that. The hole was at the bottom, where you put the knives.
I may have missed the point of the story, especially when I was a full-time dickhead stoner. It was something about the dubious natures of a muse - a well Gaiman has gone to before - but sometimes you can't see the story for the spotting bottle.
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