You zworp back from your dimension-hopping, SANDWICH ANTIDOTE in HAND.
What the heck happened in your absence?
PADDINGTON and RED GLASSES are both looking worse for wear, each having created, seemingly from nowhere, their own unique pile of VOMIT. Hang in there, Pad-Bro....
A ZOMBIE has entered the room, considerately coming pre-speared. He's also on fire, as is the ROOM you can see behind him. So your only path of escape is gone....
MONOCLE PIPE is standing on the table pointing some very SERIOUS BUSINESS at the QUEEN LADY'S FOREHEAD. It looks like he was expecting you....
MP: Ah, I see you've returned, and with the antidote, I presume?
CAD: Huh? Yeah, I'm going to give it to my hipbro.
MP: No, you're going to give it to... me!
MP: Ah, Mr. Wizard. Again we see there is nothing you can possess which I cannot take away. I need the antidote to save my foolish companion. If you do not give it to me, quickly at that, then your queen will suffer a... splitting headache!
CAD: A headache?
MP: Yes. It's a euphemism? I plan on shooting her?
CAD: Oh. Oh, yeah, I get it now.
MP: Quite. So as much as I abhor violence, especially on a personal scale such as this, you either give me the antidote or there will be a small hole in the head of state! GIVE ME THE ANTIDOTE!
CAD: Head of st---?
ALAN: Oh, hello Cad! What a pleasant surprise!