Back in the day (damn I sound old), when I lived with the manliest of men who drank past conceivable measures, there was once a night…where they finally drank too much, too fast.

In our flat we hosted party after party after party, and during preparations for yet another drunk experience, my flatmates went to go buy some whiskey.

Meanwhile I played host to the girl (NYC) that came early (because she was deeply in love with one of my roomies) until they came back.

When they did, they were in a heated argument…confused as to why they were screaming at each other, I ask what’s the problem.

In unison they said, “HE THINKS HE CAN DRINK MORE THAN ME!!!”

So with 2 bottles of cheap Scotch they bring out the cards and spread them across the table face down. Then Gasp (Armenian from part 1) said to McCone (new edition, ½ Belgian ½ New Zealander), whoever picks up a 2 drinks half a glass of straight whiskey, no chaser and for an Ace, a whole glass.

NYC and I look at them bemused, but let them go ahead because it would be entertaining before everyone else gets here.

Gasp, the unlucky bastard, picked 2 Aces in his first 3 cards… brilliant. McCone managed to pick up a 2 and an Ace as punishment for laughing at him as the challenge goes on.

In 10 min, they devoured both bottles, although I must admit to getting thirsty and pouring a glass. They’re status… fine, FOR NOW!! During their session one of our best mates (Firasso from part 1) came over and decided to be the sober for the night alongside me.

The party eventually begins, with the occasional boxing match and drunk screaming, then we discover that Gasp has been missing for 20 min… he locked himself in the bathroom with NYC, with the shower running.

McCone, declared victory and kept partying….but a lot of us had to pee. 2 hours had passed since Gasp locked himself in the bathroom, shower still running, leading to our guests having to use the toilet at the bar next door. Damn.

Assuming he either died or passed out, we go to the club, then shit takes another twist. As we enter the bouncer picks out McCone and states he is too drunk, he says.


He tries again, again and again with various strangers, from Ireland, Spain, USA, Australia, Germany etc… he tries 13 TIMES to get in, eventually the bouncer pours a bucket of water over him and said “Fuck off.”

It doesn’t end there, eventually 2 of our friends (a couple) came to check for us, then McCone gets mad and starts to fight us, struggling to pin him against the wall we feel like the battle was won…. Then the Police drive slowly by and look at us, of course all three of us says it’s cool.

However… when they drive off, McCone discovers his inner HULK!! Shoves us off and runs away, we catch him though (2 drunk 2 go far) and he calms down. McCone and my other friend suddenly become brothers, enough so that McCone pulled down his pants so our friend can smack his bare ass. Odd.

Eventually we separate and I have to take the drunk baby home…. alone

Thus he takes advantage…. strips to his boxers, runs around the city and fights back like a she-devil, scratching me every time I got close…I still have a scar to this day.

Finally, I wrestle him back into the house to find Gasp left the bathroom…and puked EVERYWHERE!!! The kitchen, the living room, hallway, McCone’s room (payback) and even made a circle around the cage of our newly purchased….Bunny rabbit we got for Easter.

Poor guy died from the fumes. RIP Fluffy

They wake up not remembering shit and wondering why Fluffy’s dead, they didn’t learn their lesson though….but then again I wouldn’t expect them too.

Miss those guys.