But before you depart this room full of winners, I want you to take a good look at the person next to you. Go on. Because sometime in the not-so-distant future, you're gonna be pulling up at a red light, in your beat-up old fucking Pinto, and that person's gonna be pulling up right alongside you in their brand new Porsche. With their beautiful wife by their side, who's got big voluptuous tits. And who're you gonna be sitting next to? Some disgusting wildebeest with three days of razor-stubble, in a sleeveless muumuu, crammed in next to you in a carload full of groceries from the fucking Price Club. That's who you're gonna be sitting next to!
The Quaalude, or lude, as it is commonly referred to, was first synthesized in 1951 by an Indian doctor - that's dots, not feathers - as a sedative, and was prescribed to stressed-out housewives with sleep disorders. But pretty soon, somebody figured out that if you resisted the urge to sleep for just fifteen minutes, you got a pretty kick-ass high from it. Didn't take long for people to start abusing ludes, of course, and in 1982 the U.S. government "Schedule 1'd" them, along with the rest of the world. Which meant there was only a finite amount of these things left. No shit. You can't even buy them anymore. You people are all shit out of luck.