Hey.

Oh man, you missed it!

I did? What did I miss?

The epic of last night. The truly, utterly epic.

Epic the likes of which we have almost never witnessed!

Why did you not call me, then?

Too busy. Epic, dearling. You don’t understand. But epic.

Guy came in, just a guy, I dunno. He came in and it was his birthday. So he and his friends were sitting over by the window. You know the broken one?

The one with no latch?

Yes, the one you never sit at when it is windy.

Well I do not, no.

I enjoy a nice breeze.

Anyway! Right? So he sits there and his friends and they’re having a good time. Singing happy birthday and stuff to him, it’s all fine. And then he gets it in his head that he wants to celebrate with something special to drink.

Special as in umbrellas or flaming?

Flaming!

So he got the shot burned his lips?

That would be sad, predictable and not at all epic.

No, dearling, no. He gets his flaming shot. And he goes to drink it.

He starts to get ready to blow it out before drinking it. He’s got it under control.

And then…

He sneezes!

Oh no!

And the shot jostles and he drops it. It does a dance, right in his hand, and he wants to catch it. You can see it in his face, like prom night and the glass is his date and there it goes – laughing all the way down to set fire to his crotch.

What did you do at your prom Natasha?

Set fire to my date’s crotch!

Wait, what?

Grabby boy. Simply grabby. I had matches. He had a crotch. Anyway!

Yah, moving away from Carrie for a second here. Yikes. So he sets his pants on fire! And then, I mean, like you do, he gets up and starts to scream and slap at himself.

Oh this poor guy.

And his friends are all helping, not thinking, just slapping and punching him in the crotch, to help, you understand. But it spilled all down his pants, so then he tries to take his pants off.

Except, of course, hello you’re in a bar so there’s a fire extinguisher. Which is now being carried up, to put the fire out. But by the time they get it ready this guy is pantless, jumping up on and down on his pants. In shock and pain from being hit in the crotch so often.

And then, oh goodness, then … they just …

It all happened so fast, you know?

What?

They fired the extinguisher anyway.

Picture it. Set fire to your crotch, have four friends punch you, repeatedly, in the dick and then have sub-zero temperature foam and liquid sprayed over it.

Oh. My. God.

Becky, look at her butt.

Beat me to it. But yes, so the guy goes down, like Indiana Jones had been by. Stealing the jewels from the natives. Yoink! And he’s on the floor, and, I swear to God, man I swear this is how it happened. Mark yelled out “Five bucks if he does another flaming shot!”

He did not!

He did!

Why am I not hearing this from Mark?

Two day bar ban for almost starting a fight!

A fight?

They figured if they could have moved much he would’ve taken a swing so…

That’s bullshit!

Did we, did we mention the guy, you know, Long Gone Ballsack, he’s related to Richard somehow?

Owner Richard?

Owner Richard.

Well damn.

Yeah just a two day, and worth it. We only came by tonight to see if they meant it. But we’re heading over to Mark’s soon. Come with?

Totally!

But first! Flaming shots!

Hooray!

No way. No. No.

Flaming shot! In memory of what’s-his-name!

Long Gone Ballsack?

Crotch Rocket?

Johnny LaLoosh!

Who?

Prom date?

Yup!

To LaLoosh!

LaLoosh!