(by Pablo Burgués)
If you haven’t read the two previous chapters, you can do it right now clicking here. But, as I know you won’t do it, I offer you a short summary in 38 words: Some weeks ago I met a guy I christened as Soap (later you’ll understand why). Among other lovely things he told me his favourite drug was DMT and immediately afterwards he began to tell me his last buzz…
Soap went on a Sunday to a friend’s house to spend the day and, as they hadn’t a board game or some playing cards close by, to kill time they did what any reasonable person would do: to get very high with DMT. This substance is highly psychotropic and soon Soap began to have hallucinations in which he saw androids and futuristic machines. Far from becoming nervous, the guy made himself comfortable and got ready to enjoy that film. But suddenly his colleague, whom from now on I’ll call Sparks, lost heart, fell to the ground on his back and started to have spasms… Soap frightened a lot but quickly he realized there was smoke coming out of his friend’s head and he understood all that was only another of his hallucinations. Human beings haven’t electrical circuits inside and, thus, we cannot have smoke coming out of our head, he thought, so that couldn’t be real but another of his robotic paranoias.
Spending no more time with that, Soap left the room and went to look for something to drink. In a kitchen cupboard he found a bottle of soft drink and had a long gulp. When he did it, he noticed that the drink had a strange taste, so he looked at the label and saw the drawing of a plastic bucket and a mop. When he saw it he thought it was quite strange that a soft drink brand had put on the market a drink that was mop-flavoured but, well, stranger things have happened… 5 seconds and 3 feelings of retching later his battered brain started to tie up loose ends and he understood that what he had just drunk was not a new and crazy soft drink but half a bottle of floor detergent. Quickly he put his fingers into his mouth to vomit but that solution wasn’t enough. “Guy, I couldn’t stop vomiting foam, and more foam, I seemed a washing machine opened in mid washing”.
With that entire buzz he decided to take his car and go to the hospital, where the doctors told him they had to do a stomach pumping (that in Spanish we call a stomach cleaning). When hearing that, Soap started laughing and told the nurses it wasn’t necessary, that after the half a litre of detergent he had taken there was no stomach cleaner than his anywhere in Ibiza. He also told them that, nonetheless, he wouldn’t reject a shot of softener because his tongue was a bit rough. After being hospitalized for several hours, he was discharged.
When leaving the hospital, in the corridor Soap met his friend Sparks, who had his head completely bandaged. Allegedly, the imaginary robot friend who had smoke coming out of his head some hours ago was neither imaginary nor a robot… Apparently the guy had fallen to the floor after an epileptic fit, and fate, that is a great comedian, wanted that his head rested on a cigarette butt which was only half put out. Result: second degree burns in all the back of his head.
And that’s all, folks, this buzz has ended.
Translation: Dora Sales
Read more stories: Typic d’aquí