Nightclubs are known for three things: dancing, booze, and substances less-than-legal in nature.

Somepony takes one of these substances. She doesn't know which one. Maybe it's a combination of them. Maybe it's one nopony else has ever taken.

But the experience she has afterwards is something that she will only slightly remember and, tragically, mostly forget.

This is the fifth and final story in a project I'm doing with my good friend Regidar, in which we switch several aspects of our writing styles and see how we operate within one another's boundaries.

Cover art is by ragin skittles.