He went down to Halifax early, hoping to score something to smoke before going across the bridge to The Crazy Horse in Dartmouth where his friends were playing later that evening. Jimmy didn't really know Halifax at all, and figured he'd go to Scotia Square and see if there was anyone hanging out.
He'd only wandered around the mall for 30 minutes or so when some guy came right up to him and asked him if he wanted 5 joints for 10 bucks. It was a bit steep, but Jimmy figured it was better than wandering around all day, so he agreed. They walked to the parking area, made the deal, and parted ways. Jimmy hadn't really checked the dope, so he headed for the nearest toilet to could check out what he had bought.
"Fuck me," he said to himself, as he ripped open one of the "joints" only to find tobacco.
The Indian guy from the CBC said, "OK, man, why don't we swap half and half? I know where my mushrooms are from--man, they're blended with tree fungus and shit, they'll really fuck you up." Jimmy handed over about half of the mushrooms he'd scored earlier, and the Indian guy passed over a roughly equal amount. They did them up.
"You seem to be handling this well," the Indian guy said. Jimmy was not handling it well. He was pleased, though, that he didin't look like he was about to puke and go insane. He saw the Indian guy from the CBC clearly, like some kind of psychic anchor, a cardboard cutout around which all manner of hallucinations were taking place. His conversation with the Indian guy was happening in "real time." Outside the cutout, time sped up, slowed, sped up again. At some point Jimmy realized that, although he could speak to and understand the Indian guy, he was completely incapable of ordering a beer, distinguishing a two dollar bill from a five, shit like that.
Jimmy climbed the steps up to The Crazy Horse. He was fucked up, but the true horror of it hadn't quite dawned on him yet. At the top of the stairs he could see assorted bouncer-types gathered around an area where it looked like someone was taking tickets or money. His friends were playing, and they'd left his name at the door, so he wasn't worried about having to pay to get in...
Jimmy couldn't speak. He was mute. He took a step back and, too late, realized he was falling down the stairs...