Spiked canapés

About 9:30 you spot something out of place, or rather someone. Garrison Fokker, the nerdiest kid in school. Jess has kept a file on him for the last year and a half, mostly because he's the only student who spends more in the library than her. He's five foot four and 95 pounds with sandy hair that refuses to be tamed and skin pale enough to almost match Jess's. He also avoids social events like the plague. You decide to investigate.

You catch up with him halfway to the back exit in a darkened hallway. He nearly jumps out of his skin when you grab his shoulder.

"Aaah! I'm just looking for the... who are you?"

"I'm the one who caught you. What were you doing by the refreshment table?"

"Just refreshing some of the snacks."

"I didn't know you worked for the catering company, Garrison."

He tries to wriggle out of your grasp but it doesn't work; a weed of his caliber wouldn't be able to get away from an average girl, and you have higher-than-normal strength. As soon as he realizes he's trapped he wilts.

"I added a tray of special brownie bites to each snack table earlier; I was just confirming that they'd been taken."

"Why? What's special about the brownies?" You remember having a couple of them, but don't feel strange.

"The contain and neurostimulator that targets the amygdala, specifically the emotion-regulation functions."

"In English, please."

"They heighten your active emotions: aggression, lust, and the like; they also inhibit your ability to lay down long term memories."

"So they make kids aggressive and horny while reducing their self-control. Why'd you do it?"

"Patricia Harris is going to give me a copy of The All-Story, February 1912, from her dad's used bookstore."

You ask despite not really wanting to know. "Why is this interesting?"

"Part One of Under the Moons of Mars? The first appearance of John Carter? You're kidding me, right."

"Did Princess Patty say why she wanted to do it?"

"She said it would liven up the party. I'm just glad they're not serving ****; that would be bad."

"Explain 'bad' to me, Garrison."

"Well, the combination synergizes and increases the effects of both. It could start a riot."

"Or an orgy."

He turns beet red, dark enough to be seen even in the dim light of the darkened corridor.

"Good thing there's no **** then."

"Garrison, the punch is spiked. Every year someone spikes the punch. Your nightmare scenario is coming to pass."