In 1994 Los Angeles, in a subdivision of plastic tract housing, Jerry Fabin imagines his house, body, and dog are infested with aphids, and nothing will get rid of them. They are spread, he believes, by “Carrier-people,” human hosts who carry them into his home. When his friend, Charles Freck, visits, they go through the motions of filling jars with the largest aphids for further study.

Freck phones his drug dealer looking for “slow death” (Substance D), but his dealer is out. He fears a massive shortage of the drug. He sees a police cruiser behind him and immediately concocts a cover story so the police won’t know he’s high, but the cops, oblivious to the sight of one more person with a substance addiction, take no notice.

Freck pulls up to a mall—walled and guarded—and decides to score some slow death at night when no one is around. He sits in his car watching the pedestrian traffic when he spots a familiar face—Donna, a dealer he’s met once before. He follows her, but when he approaches, calling her by name, she insists she doesn’t know him. She brandishes a small knife, and he backs away. A moment later, she stops and looks back, and he recalls her doling out small capsules of the drug.