I can pinpoint the moment it all went to hell.
It started well, just me, couple of my buddies, a half dozen or so girls from the camp on the other side of the lake, a crate of mixed mixers and three bottles of vodka.
It continued better, with drinking and talking and more drinking and more talking then more drinking, less talking, more… other activities.
It wasn’t the moment where one of the girls said she knew this neat trick, and began to draw in the dirt.
It was the moment where the pentagram she drew began to glow…