“Aye, the pension wasn’t cutting it. Plus, I got tired of making jam.”
GLASGOW, SCOTLAND — In a shocking-yet-inspiring turn of events, police raided a nondescript warehouse on the outskirts of Glasgow this week and uncovered a £3.2 million cannabis grow run by none other than a 70-year-old retiree who went by the street name “Nana’s Plug.”
When apprehended, the man was sipping tea and wearing a cardigan embroidered with the words “Smokin’ Since the Stones.” He told officers:
“I wasn’t tryin’ to be Pablo Escobar, lad. I just wanted enough scratch for bingo night, biscuits, and maybe a new hip.”
Inside the Operation
Police expected a small grow. What they found was a fully-automated cultivation facility powered by solar panels, vintage war tech, and what appeared to be a decommissioned church organ used to “resonate the terps.”
Highlights from the scene:
Strain names included:
Old Man’s Breath – “Puts you to sleep before Antiques Roadshow ends.”
Afghani Arthritic – “Strong in the knees. Eventually.”
Silverback Shuffle – “The only strain to ever win a limbo contest at a senior center.”
Grow lights were jury-rigged from repurposed World War II searchlights, allegedly salvaged from a museum "for vibes."
Harvest jars were labeled not by strain or batch but by which day of the week he felt like trimming. Wednesday jars were “extra sleepy.”
How He Got Busted
According to authorities, the grow op remained undiscovered for over five years until the man forgot the passcode to the reinforced warehouse door and had to call his security company for help.
“It was 1234,” he admitted. “Thought I changed it to me cat’s birthday... turns out I never did.”
When the security team arrived and saw grow lights flickering through blackout curtains, they called the cops.
Upon entering, police were greeted with the unmistakable scent of burnt sage and low-income genius.
Community Reaction
Neighbors were dumbfounded.
“We thought he was just really into tomatoes,” said one. “He kept telling us he was breeding ‘legacy plants.’ I just assumed heirloom cherry or something.”
Another resident added:
“He used to bring edibles to the neighborhood potlucks. I always thought his shortbread was... suspiciously fun.”
It’s now rumored he offered senior discounts on eighths if you could correctly guess his middle name (“It’s Hamish, but don’t tell the coppers.”).
The Fallout
He has since been banned from the retirement home bingo hall, a punishment that has caused an uprising among fellow residents.
They’ve responded by:
Hotboxing the shuffleboard court
Organizing a “Free Nana’s Plug” petition on Nextdoor
Hosting a terpene-themed potluck called High Tea & Higher Tolerance
Closing Statement
When asked if he had any regrets, the old man paused, smiled, and said:
“Only that I never got to drop me signature strain — ‘Back Pain Biscotti.’ That one was gonna change lives.”