Okay, this is going to be long. for a bit of background, I'm 19, my husband is 22, and our roommate is 18. I've done more (different kinds) drugs than either of them have. The roommate is usually REALLY good with his psychedellics, to the point that you can't usually tell he's trippin' balls unless he makes it known... So yesterday, he ate a (dry) quarter of mushrooms. My husband was at work and we trust the guy and all, so I was kinda his "babysitter" for the day. The mushrooms didn't look good. My husband said as soon as he saw them, he just had a bad feeling about it. And we didn't check the weight (they were free from a friend) and we think there might've been more than a quarter there. These fuckers were almost BLACK. He started eating them at around 9:30 A.M. and didn't even finish them, there was a huge stem and part of a cap left. And he was trippin' balls by the time he finished them (he snacked, a few at a time, but they were also fairly big mushrooms). He was giggling like crazy, had me laughing my ass off, and kept saying that he was hallucinating REALLY hard. He also said that they hurt his stomach a lot, and that kinda worried me because the kid has a fucking iron stomach, seriously. So we were fine for an hour or so, except that he was tripping really hard and I was slightly worried about the way he was and still about the fact that the mushrooms hurt his stomach, but generally, we were fine, he was okay with the trip and I was okay with him being there. He followed me around (I was doing small housework) and yapped at me the entire time. And then he got weird. Really weird. He started saying things that made NO sense, as well as saying things like "We could start a band and go to China, we could go to the moon, we can do anything" and such. He took his shirt off and threw it on the floor, saying that it was really hot in the house. I was pretty chilly, but I picked his shirt up and it was soaked in sweat. I ran water to do dishes and started doing them, and he paced and jumped around behind me, talking loudly, basically yelling. I asked him not to jump around because we have a basement, and jumping on a hollow floor shakes things on counters, shelves, etc. So I asked him to stop, saying that he was going to break things, and he responed - "That's okay, I'll just pick them up" as if he didn't understand that breaking things meant like, destroying them FOREVER... like my two awesome sets of mushroom salt and pepper shakers and other such things (I have a huge collection of mushroom kitchen-stuff, oddly enough, haha). So, he was still jumping (not as much) and basically yelling, but to him, he was just talking. He started playing with his belt, which is thick leather with studs and spikes and a Marilyn Manson buckle that has two points at the top and bottom. He said it was really uncomfortable (the points at the top of the buckle dig into his stomach, we know this because he complains about it when he's drunk) and started playing with his belt. The pants he was wearing were WAY too big for him, so I tried giving him another belt and telling him that he should change them, but he couldn't comprehend. And then he basically dropped his pants as if it was nothing. I asked him to keep his clothes on and told him that it was making me uncomfortable. "Why?" Well, buddy, because I am a married woman and I don't want to see cock that doesn't "belong to me". He didn't seem to understand that there was anything wrong with it. I asked him again to please put his pants back on, saying that he was offending me. At this point, he didn't seem to realize that he was standing there naked. I yelled at him, "Put your fucking clothes on" and he still just kept on yapping away like nothing was happening, but still not making ANY sense. I'd had enough. I grabbed the phone (which was conveniently in the kitchen, on the charger) and went to my bedroom. Locked myself in and leaned up against the door (since the doors still open when they're locked, with enough effort...) and called my mother. Now, my mother has dealt with EVERYTHING. She's known for a while that I smoke weed, she's heard stories about my own mushroom/acid trips (I don't do any of that any more, don't even drink) and she's also dealt with a lot of emotional and psychological issues with all (four) of her children. She's also a bigger woman (she's almost 6ft. tall and built to suit such height) So I called, explained as fast as I could, and she showed up. He was yelling and beating on my bedroom door. She came in and yelled for me, I yelled back, and Fitz (roommate) started yapping away at her. She told him he should go sit down, that she was there to talk to me about something important, and then came into the bedroom with me and locked the door. When she saw how fucked up he was, she said that she wasn't going to deal with a kid that high, not one that she didn't know too well or anything, and said that we should call my husband home from work. We called him and he rushed home (thank jeebus for small towns...). Again, Fitz still didn't seem to realize at all that he was stark fucking naked in our kitchen. Adam (husband) got home and Fitz started yapping at him, Adam told him to sit down and get some clothes on, and he wouldn't. Adam told him that if he wasn't going to put clothes on, he needed to get out of our house or he would remove him from the house himeslf. Fitz continues to yap away about random things. By this point, he was saying things that were extremely violent, rude, and/or offensive, and made no sense. Things like "do you want to see me kill myself and come back to life??" When I was locked in the bedroom, he yelled through the door that I should come out, that I was only wasting time, aging by myself in there, etc. Now, this part is a bit rough. Adam then proceeded to remove him from our house. They were near the door (since he met Adam at the door when he walked in, someone to talk to) and Adam punched him in the head once or twice and pushed him out onto the deck. He still just kept talking like everything was normal and he was just going on about random shit. Adam kicked him (literally) down the stairs off the deck (there's only about 4 stairs). He started to get somewhat violent, fight back, etc. So Adam picked up a sledgehammer that we had sitting right outside our back door on the deck, just to scare him. He cowered back near the fence in the grass, and I know that Adam picked up the sledgehammer once more a bit later, again to keep Fitz from coming at him or anything. My mom was on the phone with the cops, and Adam basically screamed that if someone didn't come soon, he was going to kill Fitz. Sadly, that's about the only way to get the cops moving fast around here. So, the cop shows up. The same cop that showed up when Adam's little brother wrecked his parents' Jimmy. The same cop that showed up the morning my stepdad accidentally shot himself. So he knew all of us, and he tends to deal with the younger kids around here. He's a newer cop, and he had never seen anything like this. He kept moving towards Fitz and then backing away like he was scared, also while talking to Adam and my mom. This went on for a while until Fitz picked up our snow shovel like he was going to hit the officer. My husband went at him and he dropped the shovel, my husband threw another shovel out of the way so he couldn't grab it, and then jumped on top of Fitz and held him down while the cop cuffed him, then took him to the car... still completely naked. So, while Fitz was sitting in the car, Adam picked up his pants from the kitchen floor, took the spiked belt off of them, grabbed his shoes and a shirt and gave them to the cop. I ran into Fitz's room and grabbed what was left of the mushroooms and handed those over as well. They took him to the hospital and gave him a shot of sedatives, but left him in the cop car, naked and handcuffed, until he was calm enough that the nurses wouldn't have to fight him. We went out for lunch with my mom and then to the hospital to see if the social worker was there yet. We all deal with the same social worker (again, thank jeebies for small towns) so my mom had called her to let her know what was going on, but she was about an hour and a half out of town. She wasn't there yet, and they had him in the quiet room (inside the hospital) with two cops watching him. He was still handcuffed and I think he was still naked, but there was a blanket covering him. He was sitting up, leaning slightly forward. My husband said, "Does he know his own name yet?" and he leaned a little further forward and said "F..f..Fitz.." and that was all. The cops said they were just waiting for the time being. They checked him out, cleaned him up (his lip was swollen and bloody, I think he's cut under the eye from his glasses, his ankle was hurt but not too badly, and he has several piercings that could have also been hurt in the fight to take him down) and put him in a cell at the police station. The social worker finally got there to check on him, and she was pissed. REALLY pissed. For one, that they didn't take him to the psych ward (which we don't have here, so they would have had to shipped him in an ambulance at least an hour and a half or more) and because she figures that for the amount he ate, for him to be acting like that, he came near overdosing on SOMETHING. They're going to test the bag that I gave them (with the rest of the mushrooms in it) and see what's up with the mushrooms, and the social worker already basically knew where he got the mushrooms. He came home last night with two friends, and my husband called Fitz's stepdad right away to let him know he was home, and to ask if he could please pick him up. His stepdad was on the one that had called us throughout the day to keep us updated on what the cops said, and suggested that they keep him overnight or let him (the stepdad) go pick him (Fitz) up when he was released, but no calls were made until well after he was released. He was still really out of it, possibly still trippin' and definitely still fucked up on sedatives. The social worker said that for the amount they gave him, he won't remember anything, just wake up and wonder where he is and how he got there. So he stayed the night as his parents' house. He probably (I kinda hope... sorry) woke up feeling like shit... beat up, swollen and bruised, sore everywhere, etc. and just basically knowing that he did something BAD. And his parents will probably tell him what happened and make him feel worse, especially because it was around ME that he did all of it. I won't be surprised at all if he cries or anything next time I see him face-to-face. My husband and I are going to discuss what's going to happen (whether he'll be allowed to stay with us or not, and setting strict rules for him if he DOES stay) and we'll probably also have a long talk with his parents and the social worker before anything else happens. I'm not sure why he freaked, but one of his friends/my cousins called us last night and asked for him. My husband gave him the short version of what happened and he went "Oh, well that's good to know, 'cause M and J just ate an eighth each..." (meaning, of the same shit) We didn't hear anything, so I'm assuming that they were fine, but it REALLY isn't like Fitz to lose it like that, and it WASN'T a bad trip. He was seriously like, handicapped fucked-up. No grip on reality at all. He wasn't upset about it, didn't realize at all that I was upset when I started to get upset, and didn't realize that Adam was upset at all until he hit him. And yes, we KNOW it's terrible to hit/fight someone while they're on something like that, but he was THAT messed up... I knew Adam would have to hit him or something to get him to somewhat realize that he wasn't happy. I've seen a lot of people on mushrooms, and whether it was just too much for them, a bad trip, a good trip, etc., I have NEVER seen anybody like that JUST on mushrooms. The cops/social worker said the same thing, as well as my mom (who's done them herself in her younger days and also seen a lot of people do them) and my husband (again, who's also done them himself and seen lots of other people on them). The social worker figured he HAD to have taken something else, but I was with him from the time he woke up 'til the cop took him away, he didn't take anything else, and she trusts me enough to know that I wouldn't lie about it. Sorry this is so long, but I seriously don't get it. I've seen people on mushrooms and acid and other psychedellics. I've goten really fucked up myself, I even shotgunned 10 beer in about 20 minutes, smoked a few roach joints and ate a quarter... I tripped fucking balls, but I was happy and calm. I've seen crackheads and meth monsters and heroin junkies (and I've done it all myself), and I've even seen them freak out and get violent. But never anything like this. Never.