So, two stoner friends, Jay and Ricky, were chilling on the couch at 2 a.m., completely fried. Ricky suddenly says, “Bro… what if tacos… could teleport?” Jay stares at him, blinking super slow, and replies, “Dude, I think they already do. Like, one second they’re in your hand… and the next second—POOF—they’re gone.” Ricky looks down, horrified, because the taco he swore he just had in his hand is missing. He starts freaking out, patting his lap, the couch cushions, even checking under the dog. Nothing. Jay says, “See? Told you. Teleporting tacos, bro. Straight to the Taco Dimension.” Five minutes later, Ricky stands up, trips a little, and a half-squished taco falls out of his hoodie pocket. Both of them just stare at it like they discovered alien life. Jay whispers, “Bro… you’re the portal.” And Ricky, dead serious, goes, “Dude… that means I’m the chosen one.”