I sat in my study, studying nothing. Looking out the window, I saw nothing of importance. I looked at the time. It had been fifteen minutes since I took the Mescaline. I took another two hits and waited, watching the dinosaurs the house over play on their trampoline. Still I waited for the hallucinations to begin, the books on my shelves introduced themselves to me. I was quite touched. A few complained about my rough treatments but they readily accepted my apologies. I was quite surprised at how intelligent The Psilocybin Production by Adam Gottlieb was. Our short conversation touched on so many topics but soon I excused myself. I didn't wish to insult them by having a psychotic episode as we spoke.
I took another hit wondering where the effect was then nodded hello to the neighborhood aardvarks. They were tunneling through the wall and heading down the hallway. I followed and found them creating a huge altar to a god that lived in my plasma screen.
We spoke and he asked me to be his new Shaman. I was touched and readily accepted. He imparted his wisdom unto me and told me of the rituals needed then sent me to the kitchen to get him an egg of a Pterodactyl. As I prepared the meal for him, the pans and I had a lengthy conversation. They thanked me for being so careful with them and berated my roommate for using metal spatulas in them. I understood and we said goodbye as I brought the omelet to my new god.
He gave me his benediction, then disappeared, saying I was to consume his meal but I needed to take more Mescaline. I did as ordered and turned on the Doors.
As the music played, I ate, took more mescaline, and my eyes went wide. My lion was wanting on my lap. I leaned back and he curled up, purring his loud purr as I ran my fingers through his wild mane. I took another hit, annoyed. Nothing was happening. No visions, no feelings of good will. Nothing. I sighed and murmured, “I'll take one more hit if nothing happens in half an hour.”
My lion leapt off my lap and I stood, brushing off his fur then went to take a walk. Outside, the normal little blue men did their daily deeds as I walked along. A few waved and I waved back, trying not to step on lovely little train rails the ants were building.
When I got home, I took the last hit and waited as I watched the Gladiators versus Pirates on the viewing portal in my sitting room.

When I awoke the next morning I was quite surprised.