Crim, the young rapscallion, decided that the zoo in which he was born and raised was getting boring fast. Realizing there was no time, he quickly leaped to Larry the Lion's cage to secure the use of his phone.
Unfortunately, the Snitch King's green phone could only dial the feds.

Try as he might, Crim, the Hero of the South, could not call up his bros using this most cursed of all phones, tainted with the very stuff of Snitching as it was. A harsh smile played across his fingertips as he rapidly recalled the truth. The truth was that there were other phones in the zoo.

Frolicking away from Larry's cage (the lion himself panicked into a frenzy of excrement, and unable to act), Crim the Pestilent found a payphone nearby. He berated the number pad down in a blaze of righteous indignation as he dialed all of his compatriots and invited them to the biggest bash he could have ever conceived. A moment later he sighed and also invited Xarok the Wolf (his esteemed ancestor) to not seem like a dick. Xarok refused, stating "Crim, my most promising heir. Someday you'll learn," and then hanging up.

A thought scampered across his untrained mind. Xarok did not have a phone, nor did he know how to use them. Crim the Boy ignored this logical skip, deciding such trivial matters were unimportant in the wake of the coming storm.

The fiesta began at midnight, taking place at the zoo's rec. center. It was beyond a doubt the most glorious shindig that had ever set foot in the zoo. The disco ball, a shimmering nimbus summoned from the ballroom of Slaanesh himself, shone brightly over the dance floor. If gazed upon directly one's head was liable to explode, as many did that night. The refreshments, prepared by none other than Emeril Lagasse, were perfect. Too perfect. For it was the punch stirred by Emeril's own hand that had been laced with LSD.

LSD. Acid. Purple haze. Lucy in the sky with diamonds. It was this that Crim, Curator of Chaos, had ingested unknowingly. Suddenly the world turned sideways, and The Insatiable Crim, clad in the most wicked blue party hat that never existed, wasn't ready for that to happen.

Laconically traipsing over the dance floor, his crimson feet became a whirlwind of frustrated ecstasy. As this was happening, his eyes pondered on tippy-toe over to the ground. The most mellow of yellow gleams caught his brain, and he knelt down to pick up this sacred artifact. A Yellow Lantern's ring, powered only by fear, was slid onto his outstretched index finger. Pallidly he activated it, using his own trepidation to draw energy from.

His very being was infused by powers akin to his great grandfather's Berserker Rage. Now, a god among men, he rose up from the ground, screaming like a wild animal. Such was the gift of absolute power; no blade or weapon could harm him. He killed men and horses alike, and all who stood before him died that day.

Several hours later, he awoke from his stupid stupor. "Woah, man! You know how to throw a party," shouted some unworthy creature nearby. He gazed around. Blood should have coated the floor, walls, ceiling, and disco ball, but it was not so.

"It must have all been a dream," harrumphed Crim the Outrageous, "A drug-induced hallucination, brought on by Emeril Lagasse's foul brew." He felt an odd sensation around his pointer. The ring! But as he glanced down, he realized this just wasn't so. He had managed to slip a piece of calamari around his finger in the confusion. Quickly devouring it, he slipped home before the feds, called by Larry, Snitch among Snitches, could arrive.

(Fun fact: 1 billion people die of LSD overdose a day.)

Based upon this http://www.furaffinity.net/view/3698296/