The *experience* of Nyquil

Nyquil? My Nyquil!

My droopy eyes shine brightly as I struggle with your childproof latch.

I curse the sadistic bastards who designed your container. They mock me!

I push down and turn the lid, nothing!

I blink until my watery gaze focuses on some random diagram...

I immediately notice their trickery!

After years of practice they have changed the rules!

Like all perverted heathens, their new dictum is "pinch and twist"!

Many attempts, and tears,  later, I successfully snap the top off and victoriously hold it up in the air, "In your faces, evil bottle manufacturers!"

My hand shakes, I pour 6 ounces of your emerald liquid into my tumbler.

Overdose? Maybe.

I breathe deeply of your intoxicating aroma, my sinuses clear.

The taste of your bitterness numbs my tongue, I gently swallow.

You coat my throat as you inch your way through my esophagus.

Warming my heart on your journey to my large intestine.

I feel a deep burning sensation as you mix with my stomach acid.

You slowly spread throughout my veins until coherent thought is abandoned...

MUSHROOMS!!

The drowsiness overcomes me instantly.

The need for sleep and a last trip to the bathroom battle inside me.

The fear of wetting the bed is too powerful.

I lumber through the hall, crashing into imaginary vases.

Your influence over me terrifying but... in a non threatening way.

A way that says you will cradle me with the same love a wino protects his last few ounces of Chablis.

As I make my way back to the safety of my bed, my ears start tingling.

Allergic reaction? Probably.

In the far distance, I hear the chimes of antique bells lulling me to sleep.

Hallucinating? Definitely.

My lids, heavy. My whispers, slurred. My drool, flowing freely.

Do you hear that?

Those are the labored snores of one who is blissfully medicated and dreaming of swimming in an emerald river.

Also available in cherry flavor.