I made this trade with Victoria and Tim while they were in the midst of moving.
They're super busy. Or at least I think they are. I know I would be if I was moving. So in short, I don't blame them for not sending me a the six stories they owe me right away.
I've got a different route for this trade. I've gone to great lengths to "hire" a ghost writer for their stories. You see, Will likes to send me lots of "extras" with his Sauce trade items. I don't like to encourage that behaviour because I either have to live with said item, or add it to The Sauce as another trade item. It eats up my free time. In a big way. So I have to find new and creative ways to punish Will for being so bad. This time, I've told Will that he is required to ghost write Veronica and Tim's stories. Unfortunately, I think he was ecstatic. RATS!
And now, I bring you: Will's ghost written story for Victoria and Tim:
I took mushrooms once years ago. For anyone who hasn't tried psychedelic drugs before, but is mildly interested, I would suggest mushrooms. Once. That's it. I would not recommend them twice. This is what happened to me.
My friend's wife was out of town and we had his house all to ourselves. We had "happened" upon some psychedelic mushrooms in a sort of accident. I won't go into details because they are shady at best, but we found ourselves in possession of 4 good sized doses of shrooms because of some trading that was done. It was a gift of sorts. From the heavens? From the universal consciousness? I'm not sure, but it was a very strange way that we ended up, suddenly and for the first time in either of our lives, having shrooms hidden in a large band-aid box.
The house was ours for the weekend, so we decided to order pizza and try these shrooms. I popped one out of the box and it looked like a dried up piece of root. Not appetizing or sinister looking, just an ugly fungus. We were going to chill out and just watch some TV, drink some beer maybe, and eat our pizza. We ate the mushroom pizza and waited. Nothing. We thought they were duds. The guy who gave them to us said they were older and he wasn't sure how potent they were. We waited, then it started to kick.
If you've tried them, then you're probably already aware of the effects. First the room was kinda dreamy, then it was kinda melty and then the voices started. We were watching an old Ed Norton movie that had a Mazzy Star song in it. We got hooked on the song and kept playing it, rewinding, playing it again. Each playing was like reliving the same moments, sensations, everything over and over again, but a little different. We were flying right into a loop. My buddy's kid has a chalkboard. The chalkboard had random chalk drawings on them. These drawings started to order themselves and then they started to speak to us. My friend got up and drew eyes on the chalkboard. I thought I was going to break free from reality and run for it, but the chalkboard kept talking. He saw the devil in the corner, there was a rip in the fabric of time itself as we kept replaying the shroom loop over and over. At first it was awesome, then old, then scary. I broke the loop and ran to the bathroom and closed the door.
The lights were off but there were so many colors in the dark. I looked at his bathroom window and saw tiny melting mosaics running droplets down the window in reds, yellows, blues, purples, all colors. I closed my eyes and they were still there, they were always there. I watched them surge. They dropped and moved. It was as if I was watching the blood in my eyes, behind my eyes, surge with each heartbeat, but the blood wasn't just red. Each cell was separately colored. I called my buddy in, but he didn't see it like I did, then I convinced him I peed on the floor and he freaked out and jumped on the toilet.
The next thing I remember we were downstairs. He was melting into the carpet and I was too terrified to get off the couch. I wasn't sure if I would also melt into the carpet or if I'd step on his face. We got stuck in another mushroom loop. I tried not to repeat myself, but I had no control. He would speak some nonsense phrase, then I'd say one, then we'd go back and forth and repeat. I'd say to myself.
"You're not going to say it again." But I would. I started to wonder if we were repeating ourselves or if our perception of time had started to echo and repeat internally. The moment we were locked in together only happened once, but repeated itself in our minds over and over. Then he lured me upstairs with promises that I'd see old pictures of his wife's boobs. He lied. Great.
Then I called a friend of mine who had used shrooms and told him my phone was broke because it called people by itself when I was high on shrooms. Some other stuff happened I think, but after we came upstairs everything seemed unreal and reality and imagination had somehow merged into one.
After that it just got horrible. We kept looping into exhaustion. For a while we were stuck on the menu screen of the movie Requiem for a Dream. It kept repeating a fake in-movie infomercial. The catchphrase was "Juice Juice Juice by you." Over and over and over.
Then I woke up. Definitely not something I would repeat, but it was interesting that one time. Just once.