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Hiking behind the lead of Rich’s crab like back he abruptly collapsed to his knees in distress panting like he’d just squatted 500kg on a hover board. “Rich… are you okay?” he turned to me in discomfort his eyes glared indicating help. “Pre workout.? Organ defender.?” I asked concerned. His mouth was moving but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. He started gesturing towards his rucksack. I unzipped his pocket and found a stash of vials, needles and orals. “Tren Tren” he croaked. I nodded promptly and prepared the syringe withdrawing the dirty orange liquid from the vial. The Sherpa watched in amazement at what he was witnessing. “Ah” Rich flinched as I jabbed his deltoid hard and slowly injected the oily substance. COUGH!! COUGH!! Rich shot to his feet. “WHATEVER IT TAKES” he shouted