Looking around the empty bottles of beer, wine, whiskey, vodka, baileys and gaviscon it was clear that a good night had been had by all. Perhaps it was a little too good. Satanta sat on the edge of a seat.... and by sat he really just collapsed there... and by edge of a seat it really means lying in a pool of his own vomit. 

Turning to his left... in a futile attempt to stop the room spinning at one hundred miles an hour... Satanta could make out a poem etched in the background. After briefly being distracted by a sparkling super sized thong with a large "You've been KaPOW'd" that was scarily close to his face, he started to focus on the writing. It looked like a diary, but one which had been licked onto the windows of the building. Barry had been there, so window licking was to be expected. Though the fact that this contained words meant it was a little out of Barry's league. As the room slowed it's spin a fraction, just long enough for a fresh delivery of vomit, Satanta managed to focus even closer....

'Twas the night after Christmas,
when all through the house,
not a creature was boozing,
not even Curtis.

The stockings that previously hung with great care,
now lay shredded on the ground beside Utopia laid bare.
Standard and Tyke nestled snug in their beds;
While visions of TylerDurden danced in their heads.
And @BlackBettey all quiet at home, such a nice little lady;
Counting stolen minions she took from a baby.

When out on the streets there arose such a clatter,
Kelly_Kapowski and TinyTina fighting over who was fatter.
Away to the pub everyone flew like a flash,
Tetley grabbing more teabags to add to his stash.

The armoury supplies start to go low;
so to the marketplace Archy and his trusty camel must go.
When what to our wondering eyes does appear,
but the usual suspects all fucked up on beer.

Achilles on the dance floor so lively and quick,
I wondered if any moment he was going to get sick.
More rapid than eagles his bodyguards they came;
grabbing Spunky's liberated boxers, as Achilles called out by name:

"Now, Sydney! now, Cantillon! now Kyubey and HubertCapone!

On LF! On, Broly! on Leilani and Haven!

To the top of the forts! to the top of Delaware!

Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away there!"

 

Things were now clear, Satanta was never going to drink again. He was going to lock up Standard's stash of Iron Bru and he was going to have to get all of the windows in the building disinfected. Who knows what tongues had been touching where that night. He then thought about trying to wave "Merry Christmas" to anyone walking nearby, but passed out again before he could manage anything even approaching a physical action. 

All was quiet, as the entire crew lay sleeping the night after Christmas. Even the high pitched snoring of Adz went completely unnoticed by all as the long metallic pendulum slowly ticked its tock within the heavy cased grandfather clock in the HQ reception.

The Factory lay in slumber, the cat was out and the note on the door was clear for all to see;

“Fuck off, we’re not interested”

Never before had such shenanigans been witnessed, never before had so much bourbon been surgically introduced into Barry, and never before had Nikita_Khrushchev been seen displaying such a varied repertoire of old English sea shanties. His ability to drink with the aid of a straw through his nose whilst verbally engulfing the gathered crew in an intoxicating breeze was worthy of nomination and placed his performance alongside such epic renditions witnessed only within establishments like, Captain Bobs’ Pirate fun house or The Peach Pit.

Such were the events of that night.

Photographs of Ragnarok wearing nothing but the top off a bottle of Jack Daniels, expertly taken from every conceivable angle lay littered around the floor.

John_Rosa swung from the enormous cut glass chandelier kindly donated by Whatsername, whilst drooling from his mouth and unconsciously constructing an artistic symmetrical image on the highly polished mahogany floor.

Raoul_Silva and sorry were fast asleep and stood upright facing each other. Both standing at an acute angle with their foreheads touching preventing either from falling forward. An unforgettable display of team spirit whilst adopting an unconscious state.

The washing line out back of the HQ told a tale unfortunately. Two pairs of heavily soiled Tanga’s swung with gay abandon in the Philadelphia early morning wind. John’s one piece fake synthetic leopard skin leotard hung upside down displaying significant flame damage around the crotch area. Swiggle’s protection vest which also doubled as the relaxation room dartboard, slid along the line of its own accord.

Even the HQ guard dog lay on its back, legs aloft alongside its kennel. Not surprising really, considering the pair of enormous white naked buttocks that stuck out of the kennels entrance.

All in all, a night to remember.
 

As Goddess slowly tried to open her eyes without getting sick, she realized she lay on the floor of a room she didn't recognize. She tried to look around, moving minimally, and saw Archy passed out across the room and two unknown pairs of feet, hopefully attached to people she couldn't see. Carefully she tried to sit up, hoping to find her boss and make sure he was alright. As she got to a sitting position, she turned and saw that indeed the feet were attached to bodies. Apparently the mostly naked bodies of her boss Carlos_Hathcok, and AverySunburst. Wondering when Avery had gotten there, she crawled over to make sure her boss was still breathing. When she shoved him over on his back he groaned a bit. "Well, at least he is alive...more or less", she murmured to herself. Desperately wishing for either some water, or more whiskey, Goddess adjusts her dress (which was twisted from...well...whatever had happened), and leaned back against the wall.

Relieved Archy finally woke up, Goddess hopes for some answers. Those hopes are quickly dashed when Archy looks just as confused as she does. As he asks if she was here all night, she laughs a bit, then quickly stops as it makes her head throb.

I guess I was...I remember getting here, and having a little bit of food...and a lot of drinking. But that was at the party. I am not even sure where we are. I need some help up too because the room keeps spinning when I try to get up.

She then looks at Archy strangely.

Umm...Archy dear, do you even know why you are wearing a sparkling corset? You definitely did not have that on when you got here....and the heel halfway on your foot is mine. What in the world did we do last night!?!?!!

Goddess laughs softly as Archy gives up on getting dressed.

Sweetie I wouldn't want to put those back on...there is no telling what they did to them!!! Or in them...

She shudders a bit at the image in her mind, and hoped it was her imagination, not a memory of things seen last night. As Archy offers her the joint, she figures sure why not, and takes a deep drag, then begins coughing violently and hands it back.

Thanks hun but I think I will stick with whiskey. Come help me up so I can find some please.

As Archy reaches down, she takes his hand and gets to her feet. She puts on the heel Archy had slid towards her and begins looking for her other one, and a bottle of whiskey. She just cant lose these heels. They are the only ones she has that go with her favorite red dress she wore last night. As she goes behind the couch she discovers her other heel, and a woman she doesn't recognize wearing the shirt that Carlos_Hathcok wore to the party last night, and sees her gun sticking out a bit from under the couch. She picks it up feeling instantly better, and continues looking for a drink. On a small table beside the couch, she discovers a half full bottle of whiskey, and briefly considers if it is safe to drink. She then figures, well alcohol kills germs right? She softly mutters "What the hell", and takes a big swig or three, hoping it takes the edge off of her headache. She then, not so gently, pushed someone off the couch and sat down to wait for her boss to wake up.

That is awesome!

Thanks for this!

Daylight was winning it's war with the blinds. As the hours rolled on it's blinding rays had traveled down the wall and onto Curtis' sleeping face. The burning penetration that met his squinting eyes as he first opened them, woke a violence in his head that defied all known scales of measurement.

He looked side to side slowly. Ok, that hurt. Putting a defiant hand on each arm of the chair, he pushed with all his might and managed to achieve a standing position. He took a moment before moving then set off across the office. He felt strange. Not just hangover strange, he felt a strange sensation all over his body, like he was closely enveloped in some gloriously soft fabric that stroked him gently as he moved. He stopped as he past a full length mirror on the wall near the door. Who was that in the mirror? A long flowing purple sequined ball gown with matching elbow length gloves. A white feather boa and diamond tiara set upon a gleaming bald head. Wait, what? 

Curtis squinted his eyes still further for closer examination. The frame was a little broad for the gown that was true but the lengthy elegance of hip and leg were stunning. The lines of the expensive dress flowed beautifully down from ample shoulder all the way to the floor, only ever unsettled by the protruding bulge just below the waist. He looked down at the charging erection trying to fight it's way through the purple fabric. Oblivious to how he came to be in this state, he continued to stare, enchanted like Narcissus. 

Just the sleek bald head and the tented waistline betrayed the masculine animal that wore this gown so well. Curtis did a little twist of the hips in front of the mirror to better admire his form. He wore it well. For a broad shouldered six footer with a hairy chest and big hands, he wore it well. He decided today would just have to be an extension of the night before and, sweeping a bottle of French Brandy from a table on his way out, he waltzed of down the stairs into the lobby.

Assured of his own radiance he all but left his hangover behind. Awash with blurry memories of debauched tangled limbs and delightfully lubricated motions, he was stopped dead in his tracks by the sprawling mass of twisted bodies, broken objects and empty bottles. He didn't mind any of it, though the sight of empty bottle always pleased and pained him in equal measure, he was delighted to see the aftermath of such committed indulgence. Striding elegantly off toward the bar, he searched for more drink.