Strange lets himself get pushed back to the living room and drinks the water without complaining. Yes mom, he'll take care of himself mom, he's got this mom. He's laying back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling as Lambert points out the obvious.

"I don't think I do," Strange muses. "I can cry, but I don't think I get dry eyes." He continues the logical train of thought: does that mean he doesn't need to blink?

"I'm going to try not to blink," Strange announces, as he looks up at the ceiling...and then continues to stare at the ceiling. He's not blinking, something which gets more and more unnerving the longer he does it.

And this is how Strange rides out his high: staring at the ceiling and looking at various hallucinations.