[ WP ] Your 11 year old nephew just ate 2 of your LSD gummy bears 45 minutes ago and you have to make sure he makes it through sane

`` Jack, what are you doing up there?'' My little nephew retreated guiltily from the drawer in my bedside table. 
 `` Nothing,'' he said guiltily, his little brows drawing together. Dropping to my knees, I rifled through the drawer, past old birthday cards, condoms, the odd pill bottle, and found the tinfoil packets I was looking for. They were crumpled and clearly empty of the special gummies they once contained. 
 `` Jack... Did you eat auntie's candy?'' The boy shook his head, clearly swallowing something. God, my sister in law would kill me. Knowing I only had an hour at most to mitigate this shit, I smiled at Jack. 
 `` It's OK Jack, I'm not angry. But that was my candy, not yours. I can make you something else.'' Snagging a plastic baggie from the drawer, I strode to the kitchen, Jack following reluctantly. 
 `` How about... Apple sauce?'' I called to him, racking my brains for something that I could dissolve the Seroquel I carried into. 
 `` Gross,'' the kid responded imperiously. 
 `` Ice cream?'' I suggested. At his non-committal shrug, I went for the freezer. `` Go chill in the living room baby. Is chocolate OK?'' He did n't answer, but as it was all I had, it would have to be. I crushed three round peach pills with the flat of a knife, thanking the powers that be for that pretentious psychiatrist who would n't prescribe me Xanax in my college days and gave me these instead. I hoped fleetingly that they were n't expired. Mixing it around in the ice cream with a spoon, I joined Jack in the living room where he played an Xbox shooter game. 
 `` Here you go buddy.'' He took a spoonful, smacking his lips. 
 `` Auntie this tastes like metal.'' I smiled tightly. 
 `` Sorry bud, it's been in the freezer for a long time. That was the last of it. If you finish it I'll open a new one,'' I lied. 
 `` It's freezer-burnt,'' the pre-teen complained. Ca n't you open the new one?'' I planted my fists on my hips. 
 `` That's not the way things work, young man. We do not waste in this house. I can put some whipped cream on it. Chocolate sauce?'' My nephew shook his head, spooning the ice cream down his throat. As I turned toward the kitchen, I sighed in relief. Disaster averted. 
 
 Twenty minutes later, Jack snoozed peacefully and dreamlessly on my couch, out for the count. 
 
 TLDR: eat Seroquel, pass out, no trip. I know it's not 45 minutes like the prompt, but it's something. 
 

