I was managing a scene for this dude a while back. It wasn't anything too big, just 10 or so trimmers in the mountains, right after Halloween. People were trimming in carports and sleeping in tents, it was cold and wet and they were getting hill crazy/tired of working. One of my jobs was to cook a big meal for these trimmigrants once a day. Usually it was rice, beans, lentils, eggs, chicken, etc- cheap power food. Well, the guy who owned the farm was the gnarliest drunk I'd ever met. Aside from drinking a handle of gin every single day, he always had doses and deems to go around. It really wasn't a great place to work that year but I was making an excellent wage and when you're sober and everyone is wasted you develop opportunities to benefit yourself. Not to mention doing gnarly redneck hippie shit in the mountains for half the year can be a lot of fun- 4wheelers, psychedelics, outhouse, chainsaws, music, books, the Milky Way, hiking, ganja, shooting, girls...
So right, this dude I'm working for is a straight menace and would pretty much only come out of his shack to fuck with the trimmers or have me drive him down the mountain to the store for smokes and booze. One night he says he wants to cook a pot roast on the wood stove- I ended up preparing the thing and this motherfucker says "heyo, where's all that keif?" There was about a half unit of keif collected from the season at this point that was sealed up and stashed. I pretend I don't hear him and this 6'6 redbearded drunk motherfucker gets all aggro "where's the fucking keif? one of those f*gs steal my shit?" To prevent the uproar from getting worse, I just get the keif and hand it to him. Dude slices the bag open and pours an ungodly amount onto the roast as its cooking.
However long later he brings carries a platter into the car port and starts feeding trimmers slices of hot roast of the blade of his hunting knife. these traveling European trimmer kids and dirty North American kids are totally in love with it- the whole fucking thing- the real American experience, right. Dude places the roast on the center of their table and they start digging in with their hash covered fingers, no idea that they're ingesting ounces of pure THC. It was gone in less than 15 minutes. About an hour later half the trimmers are trying to go to bed early, the other half are visibly wasted. Dude is lurking and starts maniacally yelling "work hours are from 10am to 11pm. get back to work. MORE! BETTER! FASTER!" while smashing an old ships bell with an axe handle.
Pretty tough time right there