WE’VE all heard the old chestnut about how travel broadens the mind. And although it’s something to mull over in a poolside bar in Marbella as one tucks into their full English and pint of lager, it can also break the mind.

That’s according to semi-professional paranormal investigator Johnny Turnip.

“To be fair, it wasn’t so much the travel but an exceptionally strong dose of DMT that pushed us over the edge.” Explained Turnip.

“But in our defence, we were in a private jet when the trip began to get really messy, and if we hadn’t spent a year in America looking for a pot of fairy gold, then we wouldn’t have ended up in a bar in Salt Lake City, where we got hold of the DMT.

“So in a way, you could say if we hadn’t ventured so far from home and took industrial strength drugs we’d have been safe. So to my mind, travel is definitely responsible for the state we ended up in.”

And, by Turnip’s own account, it was some state indeed!

The Abergavenny man told the Chronicle that after saving the world, they chartered a private chopper to a bar in Salt Lake City to celebrate, and that’s where things went a little pear-shaped.

“Salt Lake City has a weird vibe at the best of times!” Explained Turnip. “All those Mormons collectively concentrated in one place can spin a man right out, but we weren’t really bothered at the time because we were too busy focusing on getting drunk.”

Turnip added, “Tyke had to head back to Hollywood and was in the toilet busy organising a private jet to fly us back to Penpergwm later that night, but in the meantime, me and the boys got chatting to a dude called Gus, who we thought said he was a minister in the LDS Church.

“‘That’s the Church of the Latter-day Saints, right?’ Said Puerto Rico Paul smugly, trying to come off like a man of the world who had read a few books.

“‘No dude. I’m with the Church of LSD. I worship at the altar of infinity and walk with the angels.’ Said Gus

“‘Cool!’ Said Paul. ‘Got any acid?’

“‘Easy!’ Growled Big Tony. I could sense Tone’s wariness and respected it. The last thing any of us needed after what we’d been through these last years was a fully-fledged psychedelic experience, but it would be kind of fun to trip our nuts off, and a nice reward for saving the world.’

“But at the same time, we were middle-aged men with responsibilities and needed to act our age.

“‘Slow your horses Paul! ‘I interjected, before looking at the Church of LSD guy who said his name was Gus, and asking, ‘What makes you think we’d be interested in the kind of stuff you’re preaching, or for that matter, selling!’ I added with a sneer.

“Gus just smiled and said, ’No offence, brothers, but you boys got the look of those that like to get a little frazzled.’

“Taking our silence for acquiescence, he added, ‘Naturally, I got acid. It’s the cornerstone of the Church of LSD.’ He said, before adding, ‘But you might need seething a little more potent. You heard of DMT?’

“‘Who hasn’t!’ Said Puerto Rico Paul. ‘But we’re not into new age nonsense and conversing with our ancestors, we just want to get loaded and escape time and space.’

“Gus just looked at Paul with amusement flickering in his heavy-lidded eyes and said, ‘I tell you boys, what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna give you a little taste, just a little primer to wet your whistle.’”

Turnip told the Chronicle that after Gus had discreetly handed them a bag of white crystalline powder with the advice to, “Do it sober. It’s wasted on a mind dimmed by alcohol. You need clarity for the rapid takeoff into the void where self ends, and everything begins.”

Turnip explained, as Puerto Rico Paul got all excited and went to grab the bag, I had to slap his hand down and shout, ‘Not now Paul. This isn’t sherbet, it’s premium-grade psychedelics, and set and setting are everything. The only place to do DMT in style is on a private jet, and in a couple of hours we’ll on one and heading homeward bound. Patience is key here. First we get drunk, and then we get spiritual.’

“Pocketing the DMT, I asked Gus how much we owed him, but he just grinned and said, ‘At what price spiritual salvation, brother? Enjoy!’ Before patting me on my back and bidding us adieu.

“‘Well, he was nice!’ Said Big Tony

“‘Certainly was.’ I said. ‘A drug dealer and a gentleman.’

“Not long after, Tyke returned and said we needed to cut the drinking short because his private jet was ready but needed to leave Salt Lake International ASAP because the authorities would only bend so far, even for a Hollywood A-lister.”

Turnip explained that as they boarded the plane and bid Tyke farewell, it was emotional but also a relief.

“Tyke was born to play a part!” He explained. “He belonged in the movies, and real life was no place for him. He didn’t say as much but I knew he found hunting pots of fairy gold, fighting AI clowns and saving the world with me and the boys a little too limiting and constricting. He needed to spread his wings with some impossible missions. It was time for us to go our separate ways.

“‘It’s been a blast, guys!’ He said. And because I knew he liked that sort of thing, I looked him square in the eye and said, ‘You! You’re still dangerous.’ And after holding his gaze for a bit, I broke out in a grin and said, ‘But you can be my wingman anytime.’

“‘Bullsh*t!’ He said. ‘You can be mine.’ And as we hugged like two alpha males who’d been through all kinds of crap but still had a great sense of humour, it felt like the end of something, but also it felt like nothing at all.

“It was time to go home and reflect for a while on what we had all become, but first there was the long trip home, and as it would turn out, an even longer trip on DMT.”

To be continued…..