I was able to sleep in late for the first time in a while and I had another one of my crazy detailed dreams. This one was a strange combination of my experience working in a pharmacy mixed with Wonderland. This one was so memorable, I wrote it all down and created ten threshold images to depict exactly what I experienced. Click on each picture to see the full sized image. It's a wild one, enjoy.
I dreamt I was picking up some hours working a shift in this tiny hole in the wall pharmacy called, "Mage’s Pharmacy". The entire day no one came to drop off or pick up any prescriptions. It was only me and the pharmacist, who was asleep the entire day. Halfway through my shift, I saw a pop up on the computer for 6 QTY of "Qwazitrex Triphazimate 10,000mg Mega Capsules" for a "Wizman, Merlow". The price was several thousand dollars. I was like, ok then, printed out the label, and went to the pill bottle shelves to find this weird drug. There was only a few bottles for Q, but I couldn't find Qwazitrex. I looked at the label again. It said it was a generic for “Actual Real Magic”. I then realized that it was labeled N because it’s a narcotic. I woke up the pharmacist because I’m not supposed to fill narcotics as a technician. In a grumpy delirium he told me to just go look in the last isle of pills. So, I went to the isle and discovered that it was longer than the others, obnoxiously long, more like a narrow corridor wall to wall with pill bottles. The entrance was labeled "Rare RTS" (return to stock).
|The Rare Return to Stock Isle|
On the left side was the As and on the right side was the Zs. It extended back hundreds of feet and was dimly lit. As I walked down I glanced at the bottles, the farther I got the odder the bottles and drug names became. The bottles began to be shaped more like chemistry beakers and vials of potions with strange names I can’t even remember. Finally, I reached the end of the hallway, now lit by candles between the bottles, and found that the end wall was for Qs.
|Pill bottles. potions, and candles|
There were a bunch of other strange bottles and names but at the very bottom I found the QWA designation, but there were as no bottles there. I crouch to reach down to reach back and see if there’s one back against the wall and find that there’s no back wall, in fact there’s just a hole. I lost my balance and fell in. I found myself in a dark cave. I make my way through this zigzagging system of tunnels lined with candles, various bottles, and glowing crystals. Strange low pitched drones and dripping echoed through the caverns. With every step there was a crunch, thousands of varying tablets and capsules littered the floor. Finally, I found the end of the cave; it was an immaculately carved hallway lined with carpeting leading to several alcoves, the word QWAZITREX carved into the rock above. A gnome in a tiny lab coat was at the entrance with a clipboard, he didn’t look up at me. He held his hand out, expecting me to hand him something. I gave him the prescription label. He looked up at me with an annoyed glare. “Creds.” he said in a surprisingly deep voice. I gave him my credentials. He looked me up and down, wrote something on his clipboard, gave me a rather large burlap sack, and unhooked the red rope to let me into the hallway.
|The Qwazitrex pharmacy gnome|
Each alcove had a small gnome-sized hole, but were titled in strange runes I didn’t understand above the entrances. I crawled through the first opening into a chamber with several regular yellow bottles on a table. They were for Qwazitrex Triphazimate, but just as I was about to take a bottle I realized that the dosage was only 100mg, I needed 100 times that amount. I walked down the hallway into another entrance where I found a huge chamber with a single massive red bottle at least two stories high for a 1,000,000mg dosage. I walked back to the gnome and asked where the 10,000mg was because I couldn’t read the runes. “Are you certified?” He asked “Not yet.” I said. “You’re not even supposed to be down here then.” He said annoyed. “This is the only fill I’ve had today.” I said. “Listen kid, do you realize that mortals wait their whole lives to even hope to get a glimpse of a single tablet of Qwazi? Did you even take the online module? This shit’s dangerous.” I didn’t remember taking any module. “No.” He gave me a really agitated look. “Mr. Gnome…” I began to say. “I have a goddamn name.” He blurted. I looked at his nametag. Chauncy Grimbo. I held back laughter as such a silly name. “Mr. Grimbo, I’m only picking up some hours here. I’m part time, I just started a few months ago.” He rubbed his brow, sighed and adjusted his glasses. “Third to the left. Don’t tell management you were even here.” I climbed in the specified hole to find several very large orange bottles, over a meter tall labeled for 10,000mg capsules of Qwazitrex Triphazimate.
|Giant bottles for Qwazitrex Triphazimate 10,000 mg|
I went over to the bottle with a big black X marked on it, meaning it had already been opened, wrapped my arms around the lid and with a lot of force was able to remove it. A very strong sulfury yet sweet stench permeated the bottle, like rotten eggs mixed with cotton candy. Inside were many football sized capsules. I took one out to examine it; one side was a marbled purple and the other one was translucent revealing that it was filled with thousands of similar yet regular sided capsules, each filled with tiny balls of every color of the rainbow. It looked absolutely fucking ridiculous. I took out six and fit them snugly into my sack and made for the Qwazitrex entrance. “Tell no one what you’re carrying. You’re lucky this is my last century here.” “Thanks, Chauncy.” I said. “Don’t fucking speak to me.” He growled under his beard.
|A single unit of Qwazitrex Triphazimate|
Tracing my steps back to the Rare RTS hallway proved to be harder than finding the Qwazitrex hoard. All of a sudden I heard the sound of shaking pill bottles in front of me. I took a candle off the ground and lifted it up to illuminate the area. An old ragged man stood with a long white beard wearing nothing but a dirty tattered lab coat with the title “Pharmacist” sewn into it, pockets filled with loose pills and bottles. “Are you lost, boy?” He whispered. “I’m heading to the pharmacy now.” I said, trying to keep calm. His eyes glistened in the candlelight. “Child, but you ARE in the pharmacy.” I froze. “How long have you been down here?” “All my life since medical school. I came here as a young pharmacist to fill a rare prescription and I’ve been living down here ever since, counting our stock for over 40 years. I am one with the medications now.” He began sniffing the air, taking a step forward. “Child, pray tell, what medication have you in your sack?” “Sir… you know, it’s against company policy for me to disclose that information.” “But, I’m a pharmacist! You can trust a pharmacist, can’t you?” he said adamantly. “Ok, show me your credentials.” He reached into his pocket and shuffled around his pills. Suddenly, he threw a handful of them at me and lunged for my bag. I slid out of the way just in time as he slipped on some floor pills. “Relinquish your Qwazitrex to me, child.” He said gaining footing, grasping a sharpened broken amber vial. “No!” “But Adam, my dear nephew, don’t you remember me? I’m your good old uncle Joey, I can show you the way out! Just give me some of that sweet Qwazi…” I turned and ran as fast as I could through the labyrinth, followed by a crotchety laughs and screams from behind. “Don’t leave me, Adam! My sweet boy! Help me find my prescription!” he shouted into the darkness.
I wondered how he knew my name, but then realized that he just read my name tag. Finally, somehow after getting lost at dead ends and other random medication grottos, I found the hole leading to the hallway of pill shelves. I crawled back up and sprinted down to the main pharmacy. The pharmacist was still asleep, but there was another technician there. “Hey, what’re the largest bottles we have?” She walked to the back and brought out a huge amber vial, just big enough for two capsules of Qwazitrex to fit in. “I’m gonna need about two more of those.” “What the hell are you filling?” “Qwazitrex?” “Oh. Your first time?” “I guess? I’m new.” “Whoa, nice. I just took the module on those. Surprised you made it out of the catacombs with your sanity on your first try. The online training really helped me. Chauncey’s a dick, huh? I still have trouble reading the runes.” She fetched two more and I filled them, affixing a tiny regular sized label to each. They still looked absolutely fucking ridiculous.
|Only two capsules were able to fit in the largest vial|
There was a ring at the front counter. “Could you take check-out? I need to print some labels.” I went to the counter to greet this ridiculous looking man. He was an older man with a white mustache, wearing a purple zebra-striped zoot suit and what looked like a wizard hat mixed with a pachuco hat, a peacock feather lazily hanging out. “Hi there, how can I help you?” I could see his wide eyes through his obnoxiously large sunglasses. “Picking up a prescription for Merlo Wizman.” This was the fucking guy.
He immediately swiped his card in the card reader, which of course didn’t go through because it was too early in the transaction. “I’m in a big hurry, speed it up.” I already hated this guy. I pulled up his information.
Qwazitrex Triphazimate 10,000mg Capsules ––– $42,682
Viagra 100mg Tablets –––––––––––––––––––––– $0.00
Warfarin Sodium 5mg Tablets ––––––––––––––– $0.00
Yascazal 32 pack –––––––––––––––––––––––––– $3.00
Besides the Qwazitrex, the only one I didn’t recognize was Yascazal. “Ok sir, we have 4 prescriptions ready for you, let me get them. I’ll be right back.” I went to the waiting bins and checked under W. I found the Viagra and Warfarin but not this Yascazal stuff. I asked the other technician where it could be. She pulled up his profile and told me it should be ready. So I checked the waiting bin again, reaching deep back behind all of the prescription bags. Low and behold, it was waaaaay deeper than it should be. Somehow the bin was wide enough for me to fit into and I found myself crawling into this deep narrow passageway, the floor completely covered in an uncountable amount of prescription bags. I reached the other side of the tunnel, which opened into an enormous library with towering shelves of bags. There was a desk down where the shelves began, and a very skinny woman with a lab coat sat with her arms folded eyeing me down. The best way to describe her would be Mr. Bitters from Invader Zim with the mannerisms of Roz from Monster’s, Inc. “Name.” she said. “Adam.” She narrowed her eyes even more. “Not you.” “Oh, Wizman. Merlow.” “Creds.” I gave her my credentials and she typed something into her computer insanely fast. She handed me a printout which read “Shelf 47W, Column 72, Row 276”. Then I just stood there for a while, feeling lost. “Um, ma’am. What do I do now?” “Get the prescription and leave. Didn’t you take the module?” “I’m new to this.” She gave me an even narrower gaze, pressed the page button on her desk phone and shouted into it. “HELP THE NEWBIE.” It screeched loudly over the static filled intercom and reverberated for a while. Off in the distance, I saw a small golf cart speeding towards the desk. The driver was a smiling Rasta man with dreads, also wearing a lab coat. “Hop on in, brotha.” I took shotgun and he sped off immediately. Turning the corner at the first shelf, the true vastness of this library really hit me. You had to really squint to see the end of the compound, and the ceiling… I wasn’t even sure if there was one.
|The massive library of prescription bags|
The driver took my print out, had one look at it, and said “First timer in the pharm, ah?” “Yeah, I’m kinda lost.” “Of course you’re lost, we’re all lost. I bet you’re thinking this is hella bizarre.” “You got me.” “Well, what if I told you this is all in your head? Ever think maybe you’re the ridiculous one?” I wanted to answer but before I could say anything, he put his knees on the wheel, sprinkled some green stuff on the printout, rolled it up and began smoking. “Uh, are you sure you can do that in here?” “You gonna let me? I’m my own prescriber, you know.” He said, pointing to the PhD tag sewn onto his jacket. I didn’t say anything and he took a long drag, before belly laughing smoke. He began telling me about how he was raised in the pharmacy and how he loved having conversations with the prescriptions saying “every pill has a story to tell” or something like that. We finally reached a skyscraper like shelf labeled “47W”, drove alongside it, and stopped. “Hey, pull that there lever.” He pointed to a lever sticking out of the dashboard. I pulled it and the small cart spring upward like some kind of cherry picker. I grabbed tight onto my seat as the Rasta man laughed at me. “I love the way they freak out!” at this point I actually began to become aware that I’m probably dreaming. “Is this a dream?” I asked him. “Maybe you’re my dream?” “How can that make any sense?” “Who says we can’t be dreaming of one another?” Without looking he reached past me and blindly plucked out a prescription. It was the Yascazal. “How did you know?” “Because you told me in a dream.” The cart retracted to ground level and we drove back to the desk. He talked about his favorite prescriptions as I looked at the Yascazal label details. Apparently, it was a generic form of the Pixy Stix candy, but in suppository form. The library lady scanned the label and sent me on my way. The Rasta man dropped me off at the tunnel mouth and left me with some more offbeat wisdom, “Don’t forget. The pills are taking us, man.” I crawled back through the hole of bags to an impatient Mr. Wizman, his arms folded. I dragged over the bottles of Qwazitrex and put all his prescriptions on the counter, scanned them. “Can I see you’re your ID?” He motioned downward with his eyes to a rainbow colored card already on the counter. It was a “Wizardry” license. I took it to the other technician and asked if we could take it, she said of course. “Ok sir, the Viagra and Warfarin Sodium are covered by your insurance but the other two aren’t.” “Excuse me? They should be covered. What are the prices?” “The Yascazal is $3.00” “Ok. That’s fine.” “And the Qwazitrex is over $42,000.”
|The check-out screen|
He was taken aback. “Balderdash! Can I speak to the pharmacist?” He was still fast asleep, snoring audibly. The other technician ran over and said “He doesn’t like to be woken from his nap. I can help. What’s the problem, sir?” “Is the Qwazi covered by my insurance?” She brought up his profile. “I’m sorry, your Medicare part Z plan doesn’t cover schedule 1 drugs, Mr. Wizman. You’ll have to pay the amount or try a different pharmacy.” “That’s completely ludicrous, ma’am. You’re really busting my buttons here. If that’s the case, then I don’t want them. Just give me the rest.” At this point I was very angry at him, I kind of went out of my way to get those fucking ridiculous pills. “Alright, sir. Sorry about that. That’ll be $3.00 please.” He reached from under his coat and dropped a heavy sack of mixed coins labeled “$100” on the counter. “Wire the change to my castle on file. I’ll be taking my business elsewhere where sorcerers are appreciated.” He stormed out of the pharmacy, his silly hat bouncing as he walked with his skull cane. “What a dick wad.” I said to the technician. “Did you catch what happened there?” she asked me. “…No?” “That guy’s a regular, comes here a lot. Huge drug dealer, repeat offender. The Qwazitrex was covered by Medicare, but he was going to use it to make Super Viagra. We’re not even supposed to sell it with regular Viagra.” “Oh.” “You really need to take those modules. If I was here, I would have told you not to fill the Qwazi. Now you’re going to have to RTS it.” “Are you fucking kidding me.”
Then, I woke up.