The Emirates airplane landed in Dubai 18.00 local time. We´d had quite a blast during the flight, sipping Taittinger champagne and chucking down coctail-wieners constantly. Things were cool until about two hours into the flight when Georgie took some liquid LSD with the champers (without me knowing). He suddenly started mutter incoherently, shaking and having cold sweats, his eyes black from expanding pupils.
- 'Whats up?', I asked.
- 'M-Mi-Mmmick Jagger stole my ideas!!' he stuttered. 'Everyone can read my thoughts because I´m a purple rhino!'
Me sensing things could get even worse, I decided to get him in a lavatory. I stood guard outside,hearing strange noises from Georgie. After about half an hour I peeked in, finding him on the floor with one of his legs in the toilet bowl, quietly singing U2:s "Bloody Sunday". A queue was lining up, so I guided him back to his seat, made him swallow a glass of Perrier with three crushed sleeping pills in it, and after a few minutes he stopped singing and fell asleep. The cabin crew looked suspiciously at us, but I'd managed to stop a potential disaster.
Anyway, when we got off Georgie was coming out of his buzz, and we managed to get through the passcontrol with no more than a few strange glances. As I was walking behind him towards the baggage claim, I saw that he had managed to shitting his pants.
And so our little debacle in Dubai was starting...
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