Deep Chunk x THE PUCK x Royal Kush

Genetic Hot Mess Hall of Fame

Pagoda yanked Tom Hill’s Deep Chunk, the infamous roadkill funk of The Puck, and a NorCal Royal Kush cut, hit shuffle, and birthed this 70-90 % indica Frankenstein. Expect three phenotypes: chocolate-hash couch-locker, garlic-skunk gas mask, or lemon-fuel rocket that still somehow melts your bones.

Effects: Couch, Meet Face

One bowl in and your eyelids file a union grievance. It’s a classic creeper—starts cerebral like you can still do the dishes, then body-slams you into the cushions with a weighted blanket made of marshmallows. Functional? Sure, if your function is horizontal meditation.

Flavor & Aroma: Cedar Chest, Meet Diesel Spill

Dry hit smells like grandma’s cedar chest that someone hot-boxed with a gas station burrito. Light it and you get cocoa, garlic, and a lemon-fuel top note that somehow works like anchovies on pizza—disturbing yet addictive. Room note lingers like you cooked a steak in a tire fire.

Growing: Set It and Forget It (Almost)

Stays under 3.5 ft indoors, stacks golf-ball nugs tighter than a Russian doll. Finishes in 8-9 weeks, rewards cold nights with eggplant hues that’ll flex on Instagram. Trim time is merciful; just keep airflow crisp or the colas will develop their own microclimate and throw a mold party.

Medical: Panic Button in Plant Form

Great for anxiety, insomnia, and that pesky will to move. PTSD patients report fewer 3 a.m. ceiling-staring contests; chronic pain folks trade their discomfort for a soft, fuzzy cocoon. May induce snack-pocalypse—hide the Doritos or don’t, we’re not your diet coach.

Who Should Smoke It

Perfect for legacy hash heads who miss the 90s, newbies that think they can hang (RIP their evening), and solventless nerds hunting 6-star melt. Skip if you’re microdosing before a parent-teacher conference—unless the teacher needs to chill too.