>Get a cool ass hella jeff shirt.

What an idea! You suddenly recall your favorite Aetherwave comic "Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff", written by a human in (allegedly) a different dimension! You never understood much about parallel universes and inter-dimensional travel, that was more your sisters sort of thing. You and your brother, however, used to sneak your fathers Thaumaturgic Communicator (commonly known as a "thaumcom") and stay up all night sharing rapturous laughter at those WACKY brothers. Good times, good times...

Making your way out the dingy alleyway you've called home for all but 12 hours, you approach the entrance to the clothing store. You really really REALLY hope they have some SBAHJ merch to spare. For free, hopefully. You have no money, but you're sure whomever runs this establishment is a kind, charitable soul. You hope.

>Look for a guy in a trench coat selling drugs.

Don't be ridiculous, RJ. The WHOLE reason you're even out here, alone, naked, cold, and broke and also broke is to sober up. To get your shit together. Immediatley, without any hesitation, seeking out elicit substances and relapsing would be wholly antithetical to the point. You abandoned your friends for this! To prove yourself! You left your BROTHER to prove to everyone, to YOURSELF, that you can be better. You're stronger than this, stronger than the voice in your head telling you to do this.

Right?