“Now, young man, let me explain why you should go risk your life on a daring and dangerous rescue mission.”

Manny grunted and shook his head, reflexively defensive.

“I’d rather not talk about it right now, if that’s cool?” he said. “I just woke up, this place is ridiculous, and I’m not going to decide to go into terrible danger because some old man guilt trips me at a bar.”

“Suit yourself,” Donald smiled. “I can’t imagine how stressful this all must be for you. I’m a little surprised you’d choose to trip balls at a time like this.”

“What do you mean?” Manny asked, with growing anxiety.

“That’s a White Haze, right?”

“I think Mike said it was a Wheat Haze, but I couldn’t really read the labels–”

“Ah shit,” Mike cursed, while Donald Farris fought back a laugh.

“What?” Manny asked.

“Mike should’ve warned you. The Wheat Haze is normal alcohol. The White Haze packs about two hits of lysergic diethylacid per pint.”

The anxious knot in Manny’s gut began to pound and pulse. He looked to Skullfucker Mike, furious, “What the fuck, man?”

Mike winced. He looked genuinely rueful.

“I’m really sorry,” he said. “I’m not used to it making a difference. Most people here take two or three hits of acid with their breakfast cigarettes.”

“Oh shit,” Manny slumped forward and put his head in his hands. He started to hyperventilate. The edges of his vision blurred and Manny couldn’t tell if that was from the drugs kicking in or just a consequence of his own panic. He could feel Oscar’s face hanging out, just at the back of his mind, afloat on a river of guilt. He didn’t want to know what a head full of acid would do with those feelings.

“I gotta get back to the room,” he said. “I can’t handle thi–”

Donald put a hand on his shoulder. He was stronger than Manny would have guessed.

“You’ve got a head full of Surprise Acid, boy. The last thing you need is to sit in a dark room and stew with your demons.” He exchanged another look with Skullfucker Mike and said, “Brainbreakers ought to be kicking off right now. That’s the place for a man in your condition.”

“But–” started Manny.

“What the hell is that?” Reggie asked.

“Wait–” Manny continued. Donald ignored him and replied to Reggie.

“It’s the best damned party on the continent. Or at least the best one humans can attend and survive.”

“I don’t really want to–” Manny started.

Skullfucker Mike added his hand to Manny’s shoulder.

“You really do. Trust us on this.”