Mary dreamt of nothing, and everything at once, while in her sleeping-gas induced slumber. Animalistic thoughts, basic ideas, colors, sounds, but nothing as organized as rational human dreams.
She woke up to find herself sprawled on a cold concrete floor, with several small bandages on her back. As her eyes focus, she sees Jess sprawled on the floor ten feet away from her, laying on her back, a thick line of drool hanging from her open mouth and pooling on the floor around her head. Her hoofed leg kicks a bit, and her lower lip twitches. Still R.E.M. (rapid eye movement, aka really deep sleep).
"Good morning," she hears a deep, scratchy male voice behind her and whirls around as fast as her clumsy body allows her to, to see a man dressed in a highly decorated army uniform standing on the other side of the bars with his arms folded behind his back. "You know it took my men two hours to pluck all the splinters from your backside?"
"Wh... where am I?" Mary stammers out, her voice sounding almost alien to her.
"That's for me to know, you to not find out."
"The others... where...?"
"Same answer as before. Suffice it to say they're not quite in the hot seat you two are in. Security footage has you two infecting the other patrons with... whatever disease this is. Technically, that's biological warfare."
"No, it wasn't... we... she wasn't involved. It was all me." Mary glances to the floor, now ashamed at what she's pulled her friend into.
"Oh? Mind telling me what you did?" He pulls a stool from somewhere out of Mary's range of sight.
"I... I got a box of magic potions in the mail the other day..."
"Magic potions? You expect me to believe that shit?"
"You're talking to a pig woman."
".......... point taken. So, you get these magic potions... and what, you use them on yourself and your friend? Then you decide to go and ruin a bunch of other people's lives?"
"Ruin? I didn't ruin anything!"
"Tell that to all the miserable, crying pig-people I've had psych teams trying to console for the past two hours. Do you even have any idea of what you've done?"
"I... it was just a bit of fun..." a single tear runs down her face.
"Well, tell me there's an antidote."
"I... I don't know, really... I..."
"You don't know?!" He stands up, eyes flaring wide with anger.
"I don't know! Please..."
"Where is the God damn box?"
"I... it's home, it's... home..."
"Which is...?"
"It's... it's on... oh, God... I can't remember..."
"Damn you! You are NOT going to lie to me! Where is your motherfucking house?!"
"I can't remember, I swear!"
"Well, you're lucky we can find your house for you. And you better hope that that box of yours does have an antidote, or you are going to be in worlds more trouble than you're already in."