On a Saturday

10:05 pm

Philadelphia PA

Mac had enough alcohol in his system to make the average person drunk, but leave him only a bit buzzed. Nothing out of the usual there, but Dee seemed almost hung over. It was too early to look like that. Something was off.

He looked at her a little more. Her clothes were a little messed up, her hair was a bit flyaway, her makeup a little smudged, her face flushed. It made Mac think of coital action. Could Dee have lost her virginity before he did? No, that's not happening. She stays pure until Mac isn't.

"Hi, Mac," Schmitty popped out from beside him. He was hyper, like a dog. A golden retriever or some shit.

"Jesus, Schmitty," Mac said, "You scared the shit out of me."

"Yeah, I've been doing that a lot tonight." Schmitty moved on to the subject that made him approach Mac. "Guess who let me perform cunnilingus on her to get revenge at Dennis?"

Mac motioned to the women on the couch. "One of them?"

"No," Schmitty said, "But they're pretty cute. Guess again."

Mac bit his lip and thought some more. "Fatty McGoo?"

"Oh god no! She's gross, move on."

Mac made the mental connection between Dee's heated face and Schmitty's slightly lost innocence.

"You fucked Sweet Dee?"

"With my tongue, so it's not necessarily fucking."

Charlie Has a Party: Mac's Story with Bonus Character

Nope. Nope. Dee was not going to be more experienced than Mac. That was the only reason he was mad.

"High five?" Schmitty prodded, completely unaware of Mac's mood.

Mac smiled and pretended to lean in for the high five. Rather, he bitch slapped Schmitty. It felt good, exhilarating even. He had a feeling of power over dicky Schmitty. The feeling was faltered, however, when Schmitty punched Mac in the face.

"Guess what, dick! Charlie invited me before you or Dee."

Mac was going to punch him back, but Dee came, seemingly from no where. "What the hell are you doing?" She glared at Schmitty. "You were going to tell people?"

"Of course! What's the fun of having sex without telling people?"

"We didn't have sex!"

"We came close," Schmitty shrugged.

Dee bitch slapped the cheek Mac didn't get, took slightly more drunk than he thought Mac up the stairs, and into Charlie's bedroom.

#

Bonnie's room would be a good "nursing" room, but after what happened there, Charlie's room would be better. Besides, his sheets were blood red and Mac's nose was bleeding. Schmitty had a surprising punch; that shit about sex before athletic activity was probably bullshit.

Bonnie kept Charlie's room looking nicer than he would, the goddamn slob. She made it look less like a kids room than it did a few months ago. She seemed to realize Charlie wasn't a kid anymore, or at least somewhat realize it. His bed was still a racecar, after all.

Dee laid Mac down on his stomach, letting him bleed for a little while. When he stopped, she turned him back on his back and assessed the damage to his face. He had a black eye, but he otherwise looked fine.

"Does your eye hurt?" asked Dee.

"A little," Mac responded, "it feels swollen."

"A little tip," Dee said, "never bitch slap someone while drunk, especially when he could punch you square in the face." She stood up to get a wet, cool rag to put over his eyes.

Fatty Mcgoo was standing in the way of the linen closet. The closet was right next to the food. Dee had a perfect burn to use that she thought of a few months ago. "Fatty, quit beating off to the food and move." It made her leave. Molly Shannon would be proud. Dee grabbed a blue rag, hearing once blue was soothing. She ran it under the bathroom sink, ringed out the excess water to prevent dripping, and went back to Charlie's room.

#

Quit beating off to the food and move, they said.

She's gross, they said

Engred, they called her.

Or Fatty, Fat Ass.

The fat pokes were the worst.

Ingrid Nelson left the party, tired of the insults thrown at her throughout the evening.

"I swear, someday, I'll lose weight. When I lose weight, I'll be successful. And then, their souls will be mine. All mine!" Ingrid laughed. It was an evil laugh, but a laugh alright.

"That's great," called a familiar, tired voice, "but can you take me home?"

"Oh, sure, Matty," Ingrid said to one of her, and Dee's, few friends. She picked him up, noticing his leg brace broke and he was shivering. A lot. "How long have you been out here?"

"About an hour," he said, "you know where I live, right?"

"The nicer part of town, like me." Matt nodded. He was leaning on her body, looking more like a question mark than an exclamation point. They looked weird together, as joined misfits, but they looked weird alone or with normal people, too. Fatty McGoo and Rickety Cricket. Together, forever alone. Which reminded Ingrid:

"Peter Schmidt gave Dee Reynolds head."

"I'm over her, Ingrid," Matt lied.

"Bitch, please," Ingrid said, "I'd bang her. Dee's hot."

"Yeah," he said, "but you're not straight and Dee is-"

"A total bitch that let you get away?" Ingrid asked. They sat at the bus stop together, in silence.

#

Ingrid didn't know this, but a little over 11 years later, she'd see Charlie and Dee in a clothing store. She knows Dee hasn't done much with her life. She knows seeing her now, after her liposuction, would kill her. The manager always left the key in the concrete outside the store. She knew exactly how her little "gang" would react. It was time.

Out she called. "Shut. Up."

#

"This feel ok?" Dee asked Mac, while in bed together.

"Could you go a little slower, actually?"

"Sure."

Dee was wiping the wash rag on his eyes, a calming motion for him. She knelt in Charlie's racecar bed, clearly loving to play nurse.

"Have you ever thought about being a nurse?" Mac asked.

"Too depressing," She deadpanned.

"But if acting doesn't work out-"

"I'm getting a psych degree."

"How is that less depressing than being a nurse?"

Dee sighed. "You don't have to watch them die."

Mac was feeling himself get sleepier. Dee was wiping his eyes. He was still unsure why. She said it was to reduce swelling, but he didn't see how that worked. He fell asleep

#

There was a trail of love spurring from Charlie's party at the stroke of midnight.

Frank was plowing Bonnie.

Dee was asleep on top of Mac. The tenderness of literally "sleeping together", before John Green.

Charlie was holding an unconscious Waitress over the toilet, keeping her from choking on her own vomit. It wasn't gross to him, but being Charlie and keeping her steady via her boobs was helpful.

Fatty McGoo was making out on a city bus with Rickety Cricket.

Dennis met Mac's prom date. They were banging.

Was this planned? They weren't sure, so probably no. All anyone knew was they were ecstatic at the moment, save for maybe Mac's prom date. There was this moment they would savor, all of them, in the city of Philadelphia, who were or were connected to this dyslexic, inhalant addicted loser. The odd anti hero of his friends and family. The thing that makes the raunchiness, dysfunction, and horrors of their life's almost beautiful. This beautiful, twisted thing that keeps everyone from being alone. Yes, Mac brought everyone together, but Charlie kept them together. Mac is a magnet, Charlie is the glue. They all stuck together. Sure, the booze might have something to do with it and maybe two people will stick around in the morning (in the Kelly house), but they'll forever be in this state of connection.

Guys, I don't want to scare you, but there's only one chapter left.

I really wanted to describe Schmitty as the dog from Up, but it wasn't out in 1996.

I love doing this! I write for an NBC comedy roleplay. I'm Britta from Community. It's close, but not really. Don't be surprised if I write another Always Sunny fic soon.