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"Please, take me home Darren," panicked Charlotte.

"Not on your life!" yelled Darren. "No one is going to spoil tonight-- not even you!" Darren sped up the car, weaving recklessly through the traffic until suddenly stopping in front of a large, mansion-like house. "We're here," he announced, getting out of the car.

Dozens of vehicles crowded around the mansion, each parking where there was just enough room to fit a car in. The night air was filled with loud, booming music and bright flashes of colored lights that beamed from the bottom floor windows like airport beacons.

"Come, on," said Darren, impatiently. Realizing that she was not intending to get out of the car, Darren opened the passenger door and extracted Charlotte from her seat by the arm. "You are such a newborn! Once you get inside, nothing on this inconsequential planet will matter," explained Darren, pulling her through the open doors.

The music outside was loud, but inside, it was deafening. Charlotte covered her eyes until they adjusted somewhat to her surroundings. Along the walls hung large screens of flashing images and shapes. Colors strobed and whirled about the room, giving it an unearthly feel. Before she knew it, Darren had plunged her through the crowds of clamoring people, and dragged her onto the dance floor.

"I don't want to dance!" yelled Charlotte, trying to make her voice audible over the incessant booming of the speakers. Seeing that Charlotte refused to participate, Darren pulled her aside to one end of the room. She saw a large table, covered with bottles and glasses. Darren went to the table and returned with two white cups, one of which he placed into her hands.

"Here," he ordered, "drink this. It'll make you feel better." Charlotte examined the frothy liquid. "Go on," prodded Darren, "it won't hurt you." Charlotte took a small sip. She wrinkled her nose.

"It tastes salty. What is it?" she asked.

"It's Mountain Dew, stupid," mocked Darren, taking a few gulps from the glass he was holding. Charlotte hesitated. "Look, you want me to take you home, don't you? Well, I won't-- not until you be a good girl and finish your drink. That cost me $15, and I intend to get my money's worth," demanded Darren. Charlotte quickly drank down the salty beverage, trying not to notice its funny taste. As she finished the drink, she noticed a strange solvent-like residue on the bottom of her cup. "Now we can go home," Darren grinned.

Darren led Charlotte back to the car, and maneuvered the convertible through the clutter of parked cars. As Darren got onto the freeway, he began eyeing Charlotte in a way that made her feel extremely uncomfortable. The effect of the chemicals he had been drinking a half hour earlier, suddenly began to take it's effect.

"I need to pull over," announced Darren, urgently. Charlotte watched as he stumbled from the car and lay down, face up, on the side of the road, not heeding the headlights that were speeding by him. Darren's behavior was frightening Charlotte.

"He must really not be feeling well to lie down there," she thought. "Darren, are you OK?" asked Charlotte, venturing from the car. Darren didn't answer. She bent over his face and saw that he had passed out. A honking car whizzed by them. Charlotte glanced away briefly to watch as the honking car disappeared into the traffic. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her ankle. Frightened, Charlotte screamed. She looked down to find Darren, twitching convulsively, and vomiting. "What's wrong?" she screamed. Darren didn't respond, but kept vomiting.

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