Lois Snorts The

Perhaps it was the fact that Lois had already had a drink, and her reason was somewhat impaired. Or maybe it was just that she saw no other option, no way to effectively fake being high. So she held the vial up to each nostril, pinched the other shut, and gave a less-than-delicate sniff.

There was a burning. A strong chemical odor, like rotten metal, swiftly replaced with pain, and that swiftly replaced by numbness. The reporter had the sudden, overpowering urge to sneeze, and squeezed her eyes tight, whole body tense as the burning cloud of numbness seemed to fill her whole head...

...it wasn't unpleasant, exactly, but it wasn't knees-knocking-together, pussy-squirting wonderful either. Lois could still taste the rotten metal a bit in the back of her throat, and her sinuses throbbed. Eyes cinched shut, fighting the need to just explode into the borrowed handkerchief, she slowly counted to ten...

...and then, eyes a little watery, the need passed. She sniffled, dabbed at her nose gently, and then handed handkerchief and concealed vial back to Tyrell.

"It'll take a minute to work. You'll feel it when it does," the Black man said. Lois sniffed again, her head throbbing, not sure what to expect...and even though she hadn't seen him order, a waitress brought her another grey cocktail and Tyrell a beer. "Until then, have a drink."

The reporter reached for the glass automatically. The grey goo wobbled, the smell like the inside of a boy's jock strap. Yet it slid down her throat easily, leaving behind a clinging, bitter film. The woman shuddered a little, wishing she knew what was in it, exactly...

Too late, Lois Lane realized the question she should have asked before she'd snorted the ****.

"What did you give me?"