We own nothing but the plot (which may be a little off normal). CBS and the appropriate music groups own everything.
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It was late Saturday night, and our precious little team
Was uptight stressed out and needed to blow off steam
So the girls dragged the guys to a strange little bar,
What will happen next, will they go too far?
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The ladies sat straight across from the men.
"Drinking game." Garcia said.
"That would be a little inappropriate." Hotch replied.
"Come on, Boss, loosen up," Morgan chided with a cheeky grin.
Reid cleared his throat and blushed. "I have a low alcohol tolerance."
"Come on Spence, I'm game." J.J. told him.
"Oh alright," Spencer said, caving.
"How about you Rossi?" Emily asked.
"Why not," he replied.
"Then it's on." Garcia began. "Men against women. Jell-o shots."
"Did you know that gelatin is made from boiling bones in water?" Reid asked.
"Stuff it, kid, I used to like Jell-o." Morgan said. Hotch sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Ahem!" Garcia cleared her throat obnoxiously.
"Go on, Baby Girl." Morgan said.
"First team to have a player throw up, pass out, or give up loses. Winner picks punishment for losing team." She smirked.
"Baby Girl, I know what you're thinking, and if Reid barfs, I'm not wearing assless chaps." Morgan said.
"Then you better hope Reid can hold his liquor." Garcia giggled.
"I don't think I should participate in this game. If I do, the probability of failure increases exponentially." Reid squeaked.
"Shut up, Reid." Emily said.
"Let the game begin. Emily, go order our drinks." Garcia said.
"On it." Emily replied. She went up to the bar and told the bartender to keep the rounds coming.
A tray of shot glasses filled with orange fluid arrived.
"Go!" Garcia yelled. Everyone took a shot.
"Hey, this tastes good." Reid giggled.
"Don't talk, just drink." J.J. told him.
They did another round of shots. And another. And another. And another. And another.
They were about to do yet another when Reid suddenly grew pale and his head hit the table, before he fell off of his stool and onto the floor.
The girls laughed. "We win! We win!"
"Damn it." Morgan said. "Looks like I'm wearin' chaps."
"No. This has to be a punishment we all can enjoy." Garcia said.
"I would enjoy seeing him in chaps." Emily teased.
Rossi leaned over Reid and slapped him a few times.
"Your beard reminds me of rabbit fur." Reid slurred. J.J. let out a snicker. Rossi glared down at the young genius.
"You're lucky you're super drunk right now." He said.
"Punishment time!" Garcia squealed with delight.
"We have decided on the best punishment." Emily laughed.
"Oh, no, we're all wearing chaps." Morgan said.
"No, it's worse." J.J. replied.
"Just tell us what it is and get it over with." Hotch said drunkenly.
"You will all sing Spice Girls karaoke in your boxers or briefs or whitie tighties, hopefully no one happens to be going commando." Garcia told them with a mischievous grin.
"No kidding, it's cold in here." Emily laughed.
"No, Baby Girl, that's mean." Morgan whined.
"Come on, strip. You agreed, you keep up your end of the deal." Garcia ordered.
The men reluctantly shed their jackets, shirts and pants, standing before the girls in nothing but their underwear and shoes. Hotch blushed as the girls giggled at his red and yellow striped boxer briefs. Morgan felt pride in the fact that the girls were staring at his blue boxers. Rossi cleared his throat to try and avert everyone's attention from his whitie-tighties. And Reid glared at them as they giggled at his Star Wars boxers.
"Why am I not surprised, Reid?" Garcia asked, snickering.
"Come on, they're kinda cute." J.J. defended.
"Now the rules, you must each pick one Spice Girl to be, and you must dance. The song will be Wannabe." J.J. said.
"Aren't there five Spice Girls?" Hotch asked.
"One quit, then there was four." Garcia argued.
"Okay, places guys, let's do it and get it over with."
"Wait, you know, Reid could be Baby Spice, I mean he's so cute." Emily told them.
"Hey-hey! I find that defensive." Reid stuttered, not quite sober enough to handle speech.
Everyone shook their heads and laughed.
"Wait, wait, you could put his hair in pigtails, it's long enough. Come on Garcia, give them some hair ties and some of your fluffy clips." Emily said deviously.
"No! Stay away from me you-you punks!" Reid screamed.
"Did he just say punks?" Garcia asked.
"Yes I did!" Reid climbed up onto a stool in a sitting position. "And I'm not wearing pigtails. Besides Baby Spice doesn't always wear her hair like that!"
"How do you know?" Morgan asked.
"Shut up!" Reid said wagging his finger.
"Get to the entertaining part!" Garcia ordered. "Bartender, hit it!"
"Wannabe" came through the speakers and the men awkwardly shuffled their feet, trying to keep in time with the song. Hotch scowled as he muttered the wrong lyrics into a spoon. Morgan started dancing and shaking his backside for his audience. Rossi tried to fake singing along while standing awkwardly, with his arms folded across his chest.
Reid managed to sing the whole song, using correct lyrics, only slurring a little, while still dancing tastefully like a true Spice Girl.
The song was soon over, and the girls were laughing hysterically, Garcia almost hyperventilating. All three of them had their digital cameras out.
The men quickly stuffed themselves back into their clothes.
"Wait until Reid sobers up and sees this," Rossi said.
"Put it on Youtube!" Morgan said.
"Wait until they find out we were only drinking kool-aid!" Emily said under her breath.
"It's our dirty little secret and our dirty little secret alone." J.J. said.
"What's your dirty little secret?" Morgan asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
J.J.'s eyes grew wide and she turned pale. She pointed at Garcia and Prentiss.
"They cheated!" She yelled.
"WHAT?!"
THE END
A little odd, a little fun, all for your enjoyment. R&R please. Please be nice.