OF STAG NIGHTS AND SOCIAL COOPERATION

CHAPTER 1

"Wait. Walter, slow down. I can't understand… You're where? WHAT?! The wedding is in less than nine hours! Okay. Okay. I'm on the way. Walter? WALTER?!" The call was dropped. Paige hit redial, but all she got was a rapid busy signal. "I'm going to kill them," she grumbled and began frantically searching her desk for her car keys.

"Looking for these?" Happy held up a key ring as she strolled into the garage carrying a garment bag over one shoulder. "I needed to use your car. Going somewhere?"

Holding up her hands in a placating gesture as if afraid of upsetting her friend, Paige answered, "It's all good. Glad you're back. Could Ralph stay here with you for a few hours? I don't want him to see… I have to, um… I gotta go…"

"Not a problem. But where are you going? I thought you were going to be here decorating and signing for deliveries all day."

"I'm sorry, Happy. This won't wait. I've picked up the guys' tuxedos. They're hanging in the loft. The flowers are already here. And the extra tables and chairs are all set up. But you'll have to sign for the cake. The caterers will be here at six and the photographer is due by six-thirty. I hope I'm back long before then. If I'm not…you know what? Nevermind. I will get them back here in time!"

"Okay, what have those bozos done now?"

Paige winced as she grabbed her purse and hurried toward the exit, phone in hand. "I don't want you to panic. Stress isn't good for the baby."

"Stop channelling Toby, Dineen. Panicking is Sylvester's department. I just get pissed off. Now, tell me. What's going on?"

"Walter just called. They're all in jail. In Tijuana."

oOoOoO~TWO WEEKS BEFORE~oOoOoO

"So, have you given any thought to my bachelor party?" Toby propped a hip on Walter's desk and peered at him in expectation.

"Your what?" Walter answered distractedly as he continued working on a code bridge for a new software program he and Ralph were designing together.

"You're the best man. Are you trying to shirk your best man duties?" Walter looked up and blinked at Toby in confusion, so the shrink hastened to elaborate. "Celebrating my last night of freedom before I put on the old ball and chain? Getting rough and rowdy with my bros one more time? Ringing any bells, Mega Mind?"

"Why would you want to celebrate being a bachelor or lament losing your freedom? I thought you wanted to get married. If anything, you should want to celebrate me being a bachelor, because that enables you to get married like you said you wanted to."

"Way to make this about you, Super Ego. And it's tradition. One last night of carousing before I settle down to married bliss. And driving a minivan about two months after that."

When Walter still looked annoyed and perplexed, Toby said, "You know what? Don't worry about it. I'll just ask Tim what he recommends. I'm sure he'll have some great ideas for an unforgettable bachelor party." Leave it to a behaviorist to know exactly which button to push.

As if on cue, Walter's lip curled in disgust. "No need for that. I'll do some research and come up with something."

"It better not be a lame something like a science exhibit. I expect it to be epic or Tim becomes my new party coordinator."

After spending the next couple of days researching, Walter still couldn't conceive of how to go about incorporating a long historic poem about heroic deeds into a party without making it something Toby would consider lame. It was becoming clear he would need to consult someone with more expertise in these matters.

He knew right away Sylvester wouldn't know what to do. If it was possible, the mathematician was even more clueless about bachelor parties than Walter himself. Although he could understand where the word 'epic' could be used to describe a comic book genre, he didn't think Toby would enjoy an event based on that. He briefly considered asking Paige for advice, but he was afraid it would somehow translate into an invitation for the interloper to join the party. That was not a desired outcome. Cabe would no doubt think beer and target shooting were adequate activities, but Walter didn't consume alcohol and the geniuses were all pathetic with firearms even when stone cold sober. He thought Richard Elia might have an idea or two, but anything the tycoon could come up with would likely cost more than Walter could afford at that moment. The hasty divorce and immigration lawyer's fees had recently taken a large chunk out of his disposable income.

He had one last resource to tap. It wasn't ideal, but it was the best option he had. So he sucked it up and dialed the last number he had for Ray Spiewack.

After patiently explaining to Walter what the term 'epic party' actually meant, Ray first suggested Vegas as a possible destination. Being attached to his life and all his limbs, and knowing Happy would likely hack off the latter before ending the former if he took Toby within fifty miles of Sin City, the genius wisely asked for other ideas. Then Tijuana came up. It had the advantage of being a fairly close and also an economical choice. Destination decided.

The guest list was easy. Ray had gotten a job as an EMS dispatcher, so he had to work and couldn't make it. Cabe opted to stay home saying he was getting too old to pull an all-nighter before a big family event. So just a behaviorist, a mathematician and a world class hacker were going to walk into a Mexican bar. He should have known immediately no good jokes ever start off that way.

oOoOoOoOoO

He'd never believed in omens or portents. But he had an inkling things weren't going to go well when, upon arriving in Tijuana, Walter was forced to wear a ridiculously large sombrero and sit on the back of a white burro that was painted with black zebra stripes. The animal wasn't fooling anyone. Particularly someone with a 197 IQ. For some inexplicable reason beyond all logic, it was considered an essential component of a visit to the border town to have your portrait taken while making just that spectacle. Once again bowing to a tradition he couldn't pretend to understand, he submitted to making an ass out of himself on the back of, well, an ass while Toby snapped pictures and texted them to the rest of the team. Walter's expression alone set his coworkers braying with laughter as if they were the actual donkeys. Sly laughed from a safe distance away. He was terrified of equines of all breeds.

And it only went downhill from there...