"But the happiness they feel is not
true, so when the effects of the chemical wear off they feel even worse
than before. Then, in a desperate effort to feel better again, they take
even more chemicals. Of course, they are doomed to repeat the cycle over
and over. This causes great anguish -- not only for themselves -- but for
their family and friends."
"How frightening!" gasped the Girrephalump.
"Yes, it's an awful, awful thing," said Dorothy. "Now the chemical is
the master. It now directs the person's life. He or she has lost
control, and is now a slave to this new master. Not only that, some of
these chemicals can affect the brain in such a way as to cause the
person to do awful things to other people, or to themselves. At the very
least their personality becomes distorted: they can have terrible mood
swings, and their natural drive and creative ability severely
diminished. Sometimes seizures, or even death can occur."
"Can't anyone stop all this?" said the Girrephalump. "Why do people make
these chemicals and sell them?"
"For money," said Dorothy.
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