The Party (To End All Parties)
Fun fun, party, goin’ to a party. Fun fun, party, it’s a fun fun party. Who doesn’t sing that to themselves when they know they’re going to a party? I know I do! Yeah! The Beach Boys! Wait, that isn’t a Beach Boys song? I just wrote that!? What’s up career change?
Everyone loves a good party. In fact, there was one party that I loved so much that I haven’t set foot in another one since. That was four years ago. This party has me pretty convinced that I’ll never attend another because it is impossible to match its greatness.
The party was at my friend Ricky’s house and it was hyped for months. We knew it was going to be huge. He made fliers that I helped pass out at all sorts of local stores. He even listed the time on the flyer as 8 PM until question mark! That’s secret code for “someone is going to die.” Unbeknownst to Ricky, I edited my stack of fliers to advertise “must-see attractions” like circus freaks, a petting zoo and strippers being part of the party. This was nowhere near true and might help explain the protesters from the “Equal Rights for Circus Performers” group that had gathered outside the party. I had no idea that the term “circus freak” was considered offensive by actual circus freaks. That’s almost mind blowing.
When I showed up to the party, the scene outside looked crazy. I didn’t get there until around ten o’clock because there was no way I would ever go to a party on time. But that’s not because I’m so cool that I need to enter the party to Hulk Hogan’s theme song or anything like that. It has more to do with the great opportunity being late gives you to laugh at all of the completely plastered idiots stumbling around like zombies and telling you how much they love you after you tell a lame joke about farts.
As I drove by Ricky’s house, I saw a kid already stumbling around on the front lawn. Pretty early for that, I thought to myself. There were so many cars parked on Ricky’s street that I had to park two blocks over and walk. As I got closer to the house, the shouts of the aforementioned protesters got louder and louder. The half-human, half-snake lady led the group in a spirited chant of “we’re not freaks, we’re just peeps,” as I crossed the street in front of them. I thought about how terrible and ineffective their chant was and couldn’t help but laugh out loud. As they watched me walk toward Ricky’s house, the crowd let out an enormous boo in unison. Even though I was the reason that they had shown up in the first place, I was pissed that they booed me.
“Shut up you obnoxious freaks!” I yelled across the street. Upon hearing the insult I had hurled at them, one of the acrobats that was part of the group sprung into action. Literally. He did a back-handspring-into-a-back-flip combo across the street in an attempt to avenge my verbal attack on his freak friends. Luckily, he wasn’t able to reach me in time and I slipped into the house unharmed.
Inside the house was even more unbelievable than outside. It was one of those parties that you just knew the cops would show up at. It felt like it was just a matter of time before they did. There were people everywhere and hardly any room to move around. People were already passed out on couches and even on the floor and stairs. There were empty beer cans everywhere and you could barely hear yourself think. Like any great party host would, Ricky had set up his TV to play reruns of old cartoons all night. His Rescue Rangers DVD was currently on continuous play, showing the select few that were conscious enough to watch it one of man’s defining creations. I slithered through the microscopic gaps that the party-goers had left between them on my quest to find Ricky and a few other friends. Just as I thought I had made it out of the room, I was stopped.
Out of nowhere, a hippie-looking kid popped up from the floor. He was inches from my face when he finally spoke.
“Meeeoooow, I’m Doggy Boy,” he said in his groovy accent as he grabbed one of my beers without asking. The way that he was staring at me, actually right through me, I could tell that he was tripping on something. Before I could say anything, he turned and did the hippie dance all the way to the TV. When his nose was resting on the cleavage of the boob tube, he spoke again.
“Is that me on TV!?”
I had no answer for him. It was clearly Rescue Rangers and unless he was an animated chipmunk, I’d have to go with no on that one. I walked away and left Doggy Boy to himself. I finally located Ricky, who was the best dressed party host I’d ever seen in his puffy and half-unbuttoned white, pirate shirt and short black shorts. Ricky was standing in the back corner of the room, along with a couple other friends, bearing witness to an epic Dick Challenge. For those of you that are somehow unfamiliar with the world-famous Dick Challenge, it’s exactly what it sounds like. One contestant will stare directly into the eyes of the other potential contestant and declare “dick challenge!” Both contestants will then “present it” and a panel of three impartial judges will declare a winner. It was currently ranked as the number one party game in the latest issue of “Games Weekly” so it’s no big deal that I would have inside knowledge of this game. Just as the judges were about to hand down their ruling, Doggy Boy burst into the room.
“Something about…my parents!?” he yelled.
At this point, it was pretty clear that noone at the party actually knew Doggy Boy. Everyone looked at him like he was nuts. He might have been nuts. Everyone was pissed that he had ruined the Dick Challenge and he definitely received his fair share of hateful looks. How dare you interrupt our completely normal fun? Doggy Boy could sense the danger.
“Should I kill myself?!” he asked.
The sad part was that he was so seriously confused that there’s no doubt in my mind he would have ended his life right there. For the sole reason of not being investigated for murder, Ricky tried to console Doggy Boy. But here’s where Doggy Boy somehow gets even weirder. For whatever reason, Doggy Boy had introduced himself to Ricky as Kitty Boy. Apparently this kid was so gone that he had no idea of what his real name was and was even more baffled by what he’d like his hippie nickname to be. Ricky offered him some water and jokingly said that he had a lot of it. Doggy Boy responded with “yeah, my aunt has a lot of water.” Oh. I don’t know if Doggy Boy ever did get his glass of water.
I took my attention off of Doggy Boy for a minute. Or was it Kitty Boy? Who knows at this point. I headed to the next room to see what kind of wacky surprises I could find there. As I walked in, I caught my friend Greg doing flying dropkicks to a closed closet door and laughing like a maniac. He looked up and saw me and started to laugh even harder. For a few seconds, I was convinced he had gone on a little trip with Doggy Boy if you know what I mean. But before I could ask him what he was doing, Greg started to scream at the closet.
“You’re going to die in there! Hahaaaaaaa! You’re never going to get out! You’re trapped forever hahahaaaaaaa!” he drop kicked the door again.
“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” I finally managed to ask.
“I trapped some little wasted kid in the closet! Hahahaaaaaa! He’s never going to get out, he’s going to die in there! Hahaaaaaa!”
For a minute or two, I thought this was the greatest thing I’d ever seen. I immediately started to laugh like a maniac along with Greg as we took turns drop kicking the door and reminding our new found hostage that he would never make it out alive. Somebody really was going to die at this party. That hit Greg and I at the same time and the mood changed quickly. Greg decided that since he was the one that kidnapped this kid, he should be the one to set him free. We opened the door and BOOM! The little wasted kid face planted onto the floor instantly. We couldn’t have caught him if we tried. Greg was beside himself. It seemed like he had instantly been struck with a severe case of Survivor’s Guilt.
“Oh my God! He really is dead! I killed him!”
As I tried to reassure Greg that sometimes murder just happened, the little drunk bitch’s knight in shining armor showed up. He was a friend of the kid’s and apparently, he had been searching for him for quite some time. He looked like he had been crying and was relieved to find his nearly-dead friend. He picked him up off the ground and started to drag him outside. As he left, he thanked us for…I’m actually not even sure why he said thank you. Greg was still upset and I didn’t want him to depress me. I decided to leave him by himself to contemplate his place in the universe. I moved on to yet another room. When I walked in, I couldn’t believe what I saw.
The room was close to pitch black and all the lights were turned off. The only outlines I could see were illuminated by the light coming from the adjacent room. In the darkness though, I could make the outline of a figure. I turned the light on quick to find Cat Dog, I mean Kitty Boy, errr I mean Doggy Boy standing barefoot and shirtless on top of a couch. He turned immediately to face me and had a frightened look in his eyes.
“Doggy Boy! What the Hell are you doing!? Why are the lights off!?”
“I set it to be this way!”
“Dude, you are fucking weird. What is your deal?”
“Something about…Jason!?” I never told him my name and I have no idea how he knew it. “I love…Jason!?” everything he said sounded like something he was repeating and totally unsure of. “I guess these make me…say what I feel!?” I guessed that “these” were whatever he was on. But I had no idea what he was talking about or how he knew my name.
“Doggy Boy, I don’t have the slightest fucking clue what you’re talking about.” The look on Doggy Boy’s face went from plain confusion to confusion and terror.
“Im really scared of Jason right now! I’m really scared of Jason right now!” he started to scream and completely freak out. I took that as my cue to get the Hell out of that room.
I walked back out to the Dick Challenge room and things had gotten completely out of control. I looked to the left and saw a fight break out. I looked to my right and saw a kid puke all over himself and the floor and then get punched in the back of the head by Ricky as a reward. Right in front of me, some kids were playing the traditional party game of Shlong Pong (beer pong where the cups are arranged in the shape of, well, a shlong). People were talking about everyone that was skinny dipping in the back yard, but the weird thing was that Ricky didn’t even have a pool. It was so loud that I may have heard that incorrectly. I needed to walk outside to check anyway.
Unfortunately, there was no skinny dipping. Double unfortunately, I did see a body part that I had hoped to avoid. The little drunk bitch and his knight in shining armor were outside together. Now, the little bitch was being held up by his buddy so that he didn’t fall over and at the same time the little bitch was receiving assistance going to the bathroom. That’s right, the knight in shining armor was holding the drunk bitch’s peen as he went. I started to laugh and the knight in shining armor and I made eye contact. All he could manage to spit out was “no,” in a wimpery little voice. I started to laugh so hard that I decided I’d run away and hope to find some skinnie dippers in the front yard.
What I saw instead sucked. The drunk kid from earlier was still stumbling around out there but the cops had just pulled up. As they approached the drunk stumbler, he offered the cops a beer. I thought that this whole scene was hilarious but I didn’t want to stop and watch. I had to go warn Ricky so I turned around and ran into the house. I was too late. The cops had already made it into the house and were starting to introduce themselves as I walked in.
“I’m Officer Tillman and this is Officer Watermilk.” Just as the second officer was introduced, Doggy Boy somehow dropped from the ceiling and landed in front of them. He stared at them for one second and then yelled.
Everone in the house burst out laughing. The police grabbed Doggy Boy immediately. He started to scream like a child that had just had their favorite toy taken away. He kicked and screamed and cried and sounded completely ridiculous as both officers carried him out of the house. Another officer that had arrived on the scene stepped up to talk.
“Is everyone here a minor?” the officer asked. Since this was a widely advertised party, there was a good number of minors at the party. This could spell danger for Ricky since he supplied the party with alcohol. Ricky, however, was pretty drunk at this point and didn’t seem to care about anything. He was the only one to answer.
“No! I’m a MAJOR!!” he yelled back.
The officer ignored him at first.
“Who lives here?” asked the officer.
“I do!” said Ricky fearlessly.
“And where did you get all the alcohol for this party?”
“I found it!”
“You found it?! Don’t get smart with me! Where did you get all the alcohol!?” he was now raising his voice.
“I stole it! All of it! And I’d do it again!” erupted Ricky even though he hadn’t even stolen one bottle.
“You stole it!? You aren’t helping yourself out at all here! Do you want to go to jail tonight!?”
“I’ll ask you one last time! DO YOU WANT TO GO TO JAIL TONIGHT?!”
“You bet your dick I do!” Ricky yelled as he knelt down on one knee. He extended both arms forward. Ricky was asking the hand cuffs to marry his hands. They screamed “yes!” As Ricky was pushed out the door, the party broke out in chant.
“Ricky! Ricky! Ricky!” everyone yelled. Everyone was forced out of the house but the chants wouldn’t stop. I stood in the street surrounded by the world’s biggest Ricky fans. When the police car with Ricky inside finally pulled away, I watched until it was out of sight. Wow, I said to myself. There goes the bravest and best dressed party host I have ever seen.