Dinner of Death

Victimized. That's how I feel. Ya know, some friends you trust with your life.  Others not so much.  And worse yet, sometimes friends do things that put them over into the 'not so much' category.  Sunday was one of those times.  I think he's been mulling the idea in his mind for a while of exactly how he's going to kill me: first off, he sends me into the streets of Moscow by myself each day; secondly, he sicks his cat on me when I'm sitting on the windowsill 8 stories up, and this past Sunday he has me make dinner.
Now he's pretty smooth.  On Thursday he comes up to me and informs me of his executive decision that he's decided I'm going to make my famous sweet-and-sour chicken for dinner Sunday.  His excuse was that he 'wanted to learn how to make it'.  Right...  He's even nice enough to go out and buy all the ingredients we need -- great guy, huh?  He also decided to invite one of his friends over that night for dinner, apparently so they could work up an alibi...
Moving past the accusations, I begin making the dinner, starting with the rice, then the chicken and the sauce.  Everything seems to be going smoothly til we get to the sauce.  He's been watching intently, helping me measure the ingredients and such, until we get to the vinegar.  I needed a little over a half cup of the stuff, and we had that much in an old bottle.  But he insisted, fighting both me and his friend off, who were content using the already opened container, that we absolutely should use this new stuff.  'It'll be better', was his reasoning.  He fought us off for a good three minutes while trying to open the apparently child-proof container (it was hard to open!).  He finally wrested it open with the help of scissors and a lot of tugging, and we poured in more than a half-cup.  Man was that scent stiff!  It was the strongest vinegar I had ever smelled.  'Think nothing of it, it'll be just fine', he reassures.  'Fine', I'm thinking, I trust this guy (trustED), so I brewed my sauce as usual.  I took a sip of the sauce and immediately started coughing, but I couldn't stop! I ran to the sink and spat out all that was left in mouth, but I couldn't get rid of the burning!  The entire inside of my mouth was on fire: lips, teeth, cheeks, tongue, throat, everything!  I couldn't breath, I was losing strength, I knew I was going down, I had to lean on the counter just to stay standing.  I was coughing up my lungs, if just to get the taste out of mouth and throat.  My throat had burned raw, and it just kept getting worse.  They can't get near the sauce because of the smell, so they read the label of the vinegar: "WARNING!  Without the addition of water, this is dangerous for your life".  Oh great, I'm already dying and then I hear it was supposed to happen that way if I ingested that stuff!?!  We read on to learn that in order to make it safe to consume, you need to add 22 parts water to every one part of vinegar, and here I am, drinking purgatory straight from the bottle!  Thanks, friend, I trusted you!  Now, not so much.
P.S. I'm STILL coughing horribly 18 hours after.  I've drunken at least a gallon of water since, but I don't think I've diluted it enough yet.  We're still waiting to hear from the doctors.
P.P.S. We remade the sauce and saved dinner.