Everybody must get stoned

Grumbleshanks paused.  I have to drop the kids off a cliff, he said abruptly and left.
Hum, Gurkirat thought, I hope it wasn't something in the food.  He started to ponder this oil plan.  It seemed a good plan, but the sheer quantity of oil would be astronomical if they planned to flood the whole sewers with it.  What if they could make a bomb out of it? Regular oil wouldn't really suffice but what if there was a more refined state they could get out of the oil.
Gurkirat glanced down the hall but didn't see Grumbleshanks anywhere.  I reckon I have a little time to wander around here, he decided, so he walked out outside and chatted up a shop owner nearby.  After the requisite small talk, he questioned the woman about about a jug of oil she had behind the counter.
Appraise: 16+6=22 -- So what are you gonna charge me for a jug of oil, Dan?

Taking his jug of oil, Gurkirat walked back inside to look for Grumblshanks.  Still out.  Yikes.  I really hope it wasn't the food.  Gurkirat looked down at his belly.  How you doin?  No reply.  I'll take that as a good thing.

Regretting his decision to leave his alchemists kit at home, he began to cast about for a rough replacement.  Seeing the dishes from dinner still on the table, he shrugged and decided to give it a try.  I reckon the easiest thing to attempt is a distillation.  He grabbed the nearest pot, emptied the food, and began to make a fire on the floor from one of the chairs.  He emptied a bit of oil into the bottom and watched it warm with glee.  As the oil began to bubble, he gave an experimental sniff.  That's a bizarre smell.  His head began to float a little.  Drifting his eyes to the door, he saw Grumbleshanks float in.  Doubly bizarre.  There were flames coming out of his arse.  As Gurkirat tried to get to his feet to warn Grumbleshanks of the flaming affliction, he found his feet didn't work correctly.  A moment of puzzlement crossed his brain before he lurched to the ground and passed out.
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Grumbleshanks grimaced as he walked from the john back to the hall.  Quite the assault on the nose.  But the smell is sticking with me.  Yeech.  But as he entered the hall he realize the smell wasn't following but instead coming from the hall itself.  In the middle, Gurkirat was huddled over a fire with a pot sitting on the flames.  From the top of the pot there was a ghastly cloud emanating.  Grumbleshanks took one big sniff of that cloud and felt his consciousness begin to drift.  A modicum of instinct remained, however, pushing him to open a door to the outside and falling into the fresh air before he drifted into a land of poop fairies and food with fire demons residing within.