You shrug off any effects the concoction was supposed to have and head back into the living room.
Shyanne follows you closely.
You smile into Shyanne's eyes and victoriously recline across the sofa. You laugh at her puzzled stare, widening eyes, agape mouth as you lean back and find yourself flat on your back.
"What the!?"
You spring up and feel around first, a rough, fraying cloth beneath your fingers. You see to your left a high mountain of a pillow, to your left the television and coffee table and bookshelf, and straight ahead your head slowly, fearfully arcs upward - far upward - to see a giant smiling tiumphantly down at you.
You could waste seconds cursing yourself for getting into this horrible ordeal, but time is moving by you so rapidly. You heart rate is that of a hummingbird, and Shyanne is stirring above you.
She laughs.