I was at work, and the clock hit 5. Excitedly, I jumped out of my chair and began speedwalking to my car. I got in, and before I could even start the car, my phone started ringing. I pull it out of my pocket and, to my chagrin, it was Bobcast. "Not ANOTHER booty call," I silently pleaded to myself. I answered it, and was surprised to hear True's voice. Turns out that Bobcast was ridiculously drunk and out banging the mother of some random B.net user, and forgot his phone at the bar he and the rest of the Ninjas were at. They were a man down with Bobcast gone, so naturally I was invited to join them. So, I drove over to the bar, went inside, ordered a drink, and sat down with 'em. We were in one of the larger, circular booths, situated in one corner of the establishment. Recon was seated at one end of the booth, drinking scotch out of a 32 oz glass mug. Beside him were True and Duardo, who were drinking boilermakers in what appeared to be a drinking contest. Shacker was out grabbing the table another round, as the newbie always does. Prometheus was by the counter, giving a vulgar speech on tolerance to a guy who made a gay joke to his friend. Foman was... Well, somewhere; nobody had seen him for a while. Daz sat on the opposite end of the booth from Recon; not drinking much as the fumes from the alcohol might distort the coloring of his fedora, and ingesting any might hinder his superior intellect and open-mindedness. I ordered a beer; not knowing what I was getting myself into. We stayed at the bar for an hour, when True suggested a change of scenery; and that we should try out this new club he'd heard about. Duardo and Shacker seemed hesitant, but were talked into it nonetheless. It was relatively close, so we were able to walk over there with ease. Along the way, we saw some boyscouts working a table selling bags of pasta. Now, these young boys would undoubtedly grow up into misogynistic white cis-scum, so Daz grabbed their vending table and threw it into the street; then gave the children Charles Darwin pocket bibles. We got to the club, which was surprisingly uncrowded on the outside; allowing us to simply walk in. The interior was another story: the joint was filled to the brim with clubbers. Shacker, Prometheus, and Duardo made their way through the crowd to grab us a table; while Recon, True, Daz, and I got us all some drinks. The attractive female bartender offered us free drinks in exchange for being able to stroke Recon's beard; an offer we graciously accepted. Sitting down with our newly acquired alcohol, we continued our night of debauchery. The night went on without much trouble; aside from a group of foreign tourists mistaking True for one of their friends due to his appearance. Shacker, Duardo, True, and Prometheus hit the dance floor, while Recon, Daz, and I stayed at out table. Recon and I felt way too old for that kind of shit, and Daz was worried being in close proximity to that many Americans would give him autism and obesity. Duardo came back to the table and began drinking heavily; stressed because dozens of random strangers had come up to him and began screaming incoherent questions at him. True was off in the bathroom, having intercourse with some girl he deemed worthy; and Shacker was on the floor, drunk as hell, attempting to backstroke back to the table while Prom stood and laughed at the event. Recon looked at his gold watch, and decided the night had gone on long enough. We called everybody back to the table, and went back to our cars. We entered the parking lot, only to see a crazed homeless man wearing nothing but a wizard's hat slashing our tires; who raised both middle fingers, swore some obscenity in ancient Elvish, then ran away. True looked at Recon, a startled expression upon his face. "Maybe we [i]should[/i] have invited Rich," Recon responded. Prometheus sighed, and Shacker pulled out a cellphone to call a cab. It was pretty cold out, so once it arrived we jumped in instantly. We got about a block when the cabbie turned on a radio station that was playing an unfamiliar rock song. The cabbie seemed surprised and happy when he heard it. "Hey, I know the band who made this," he said. "They're a good group, somebody from my church introduced me to them!" It was at that moment that Daz demanded the cab be stopped; then he opened his door, got out of the car, went over to the driver's side, pulled the cabbie out, and then he and Prometheus began beating him for being intolerant and unintelligent Christian scum, who probably planned to drug us all and imprison us in a Sunday school. Daz, once he was done, got inside the driver's seat and began driving us all back to our homes; something he knew the previous closeminded American driver wouldn't have had the IQ level to do. The rest of us were too drunk to be stunned or even care, plus the smoke from the multiple cigars Recon was smoking obscured our vision; so we weren't entirely sure what happened. Too tired and drunk to drop all of ourselves off, we stopped the stolen cab at the nearest house; which just so happened to be mine. We got inside, and everybody almost immediately passed out. Recon made for the nearest bottle of scotch, and Daz went through my TV, blocking any right-wing news stations to prevent indoctrination. Duardo and Prom fell onto the couch; half conscious and making out. True stood leaning on a wall, attempting to hit on a picture of my deceased grandmother; while Shacker was walking around on all fours, meowing and chasing my cats through the house. I went to the fridge, grabbed a beer, and then stood and watched; horrified yet aroused at the spectacle before me. I downed the bottle and then went to my room to sleep. I woke up in the morning to see Daz spooning me, and Shacker laying at the foot of the bed; True was inside one of the suits hung up in my bedroom closet; half awake and giggling hysterically, only to have the hanging rod snap under the weight of a full grown man. I got up out of my uncomfortably crowded bed to make some coffee and breakfast for everybody before I sent them on their way. Of course, now its 3 in the afternoon and I'm still waiting for the freeloaders to leave.