I asked a buddy to make some brownies for my wife and I.

He rolled a natural 20 on his Cooking skill, and turned a half-ounce of bud into the single most potent batch of edibles anyone in my personal friend group has ever encountered.

I ate a single brownie, and started playing Hexic on my Xbox. About 45 minutes in, I catch myself thinking "These colors are really, really pretty". I realize that means the brownies are probably starting to kick in. I think "I better get some water before I get couch-locked." I stand up, and the entire world does a pirouette around the wrong axis. In that one motion, I went from "I might be feeling it" to "I am so high gravity isn't a constant anymore".

The next few hours were full of typical high adventures. Tasty foods, funny cartoons, intense sex. But it didn't stop after that. So we moved on to calm music and focused on lowering our energy level to try to give the high a chance to fade. By 2AM or so, we're still flying high, and decide maybe there's nothing else to do but try to sleep it off.

The next morning, we woke up still completely blasted.

Our roommate kindly drove us to get some burgers so we could try to eat it off, but no luck. We spent the entire day at "still too high to be around sober people safely". It wasn't until about mid-day on the following day, about 40 hours later that we finally began to drift down. My wife continued to feel some effects for another 2 days after that.

This didn't turn us off weed, but it did convince us to take a break for a bit. So we handed the rest of the brownies back to the friend who made them. He and two other friends didn't heed our warnings, and all got so stoned they had to bail on their planned road-trip and fly to their conference instead.

They still had half the batch. After 5 of us reported 2 day long trips, none of our other stoner friends were very interested. We talked about what to do with them, and ended up on what seemed like a solid idea: We reached out to a very nice, elderly neighbor who had been friendly with us, and who suffered from intense chronic pain. He had joked with us before about how he used to be a stoner but he "wasn't cool enough to hang with that crowd anymore". We explained the killer brownies, and he was very interested.

"Boys, my regular days are awful, there's no way a high day is going to be worse." Still, we broke them up into quarter sized doses and did our best to warn him to be gentle with them.

Two days later, he knocked on our door. "I want to show you boys something!" He walked us to his backyard, and told us "Look! I mowed the whole damn thing! And I cleaned the kitchen too! All in one day!" So we asked "The brownies were that good, huh?"

He laughed, then pulled the bag of remaining brownies out and handed them to us. "They were great. But if I work that hard again I'll die, and then you'll have to explain all the pot in my system. These are the devil's brownies, boys, and you'd be best to burn them before they hurt anyone else." So we did.