A/N: I had an intense The Hangover marathon before writing this chapter. (Watched the first one yesterday for fun, then had to go watch it again before seeing the second one in theaters with my friends.)

The plot for these upcoming chapters was a fate that could not be avoided.

That should explain everything. And you've been warned.

Twenty-One Forever - Chapter Five

Saturday, December 31st - 4:32 p.m.

Phoebe frantically pressed 'redial', only to get Helga's voice mail. She groaned and collapsed onto the unmade hotel bed, wrinkling the red and gold sheets she had slept in last night. After dialing Arnold, she tried her boyfriend, "Hey it's Gerald, I'm not here, leave a message." Phoebe slammed her phone down and turned to Sarah, Helga's roommate, eyes wide with panic, "I can't get any of them."

"It's okay, they're with Johnny. He's like the king of disappearing then reappearing. There's nothing to worry about."

"That's not very reassuring."

Ring. . .ring. . .

"Phoebe? It's. . .uh, it's Helga." Helga rocked back and forth on her heels, eyes examining the situation in front of her. Johnny and Gerald were leaning against a car, whispering to each other just how fucked up this entire situation was.

Phoebe wanted to scream out of joy. They were okay! "Where are you guys? I am freaking out!"

"We. . .uh, we fucked up."

"What does that mean?"

"The party, the entire night, everything got way out of control. I. . .I don't even know how, but we lost Arnold."

"What?"

Helga winced as she repeated herself, "We lost Arnold."

If Phoebe hadn't been sitting on her hotel's bed, she would have fainted. "It's New Year's Eve today, we have to get him home! We're supposed to leave this afternoon! Our flight takes off at seven!"

"Yeah. . .that's not gonna happen."

One Day Earlier

Friday, December 30th - 10:29 p.m.

"If this is your first date, why do you have a third wheel?"

The music was roaring through the speakers hanging on the V.I.P level, but Johnny could still hear perfectly. He was so excited to hear Helga's response to this. Gerald choked back his laugh by sipping on his beer. He leaned forwards towards Johnny, "They called me to chaperone them. Helga said, and I quote, 'I'm getting fucked up and bringing Arnold with me.'"

Johnny cheered, "God Bless Helga!" He promptly slid two beers down the table, "Drink up, guys. The party's just starting and I am always down for a good time." Neither Helga or Arnold touched the drinks.

"Perfect, someone for Gerald to hang out with," Helga joked before grabbing Arnold's hand and taking him to the club level.

They returned to the shelves at eleven-thirty, both drenched in sweat from grinding on the over-crowded dance floor.

"I am completely disturbed," Gerald said as he finished his glass of water. He promised Arnold he'd be responsible, so he only had one drink.

Arnold laughed as he leaned into Helga, arms wrapped around her waist, "Why?"

Gerald arched his eyebrow and stared at his friend, curious as to why he was acting innocent, "You guys were basically fucking on the dance floor."

Helga shook her head, "No, there were people actually having sex. We were tame."

"Whatever," Johnny waved his hand in the air to dismiss previous statements.

"Let's go to another club!" Helga exclaimed. Arnold shrugged and nodded before flashing a smile at Gerald. He sighed and rose to his feet.

"Wait, we should do a celebratory shot first!" Johnny quickly disappeared behind the bar and poured four shots of Tequila. "To Helga and Arnold for wanting to get fucked up tonight!"

"I wish you guys luck together," Gerald said as their shot glasses clinked. "I really do."

Saturday, December 31st - 8:01 a.m.

Gerald felt his world go from blurred insanity to insanely bright pain. He gently picked himself up off the floor and stumbled onto the couch, ignoring all of the obvious signs of damage in the hotel room. He moaned in pain before holding his stomach, trying to keep his vomit down. He hadn't puked after drinking since high school.

To an outsider, it looked like Hell tore through the Four Seasons Royal Suite Hotel Room. After opening the door, the suite opened up into a main living room with three couches surrounding a large flat screen television. To the left were two bedrooms joined by a bathroom, and the right a pull out bed and a bathroom. On the far right side of the living room was a fully stocked bar, that was now completely empty.

The destruction turned the room into a giant pile of trash. The television was smashed, the screen looked as if bullets had been shot to it. One couch was turned over and the other was ripped in half. One was missing cushions, but was still salvageable.

Gerald's movements and noises prompted Johnny to open his eyes. He had passed out behind the bar. Disoriented and still a little drunk, Johnny rose to his feet, only to slip backwards and land on the hardwood floor, knocking over an empty luggage stand and red plastic cups. Righting himself up again, Johnny made his way to the bathroom. He felt an odd chill on the lower half of his body, but ignored it as he marched away. He gently stepped over Helga, since she was still passed out cold on the floor in the front hallway of the suite, wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets.

Johnny slowly made his way to the toilet, realizing that he wasn't wearing pants, and promptly began to go. He began to analyze the situation in his mind, wondering what the hell happened last night, when he heard a grunt.

Slowly John turned to face the large NYPD horse that was bucking around in the bathroom. Johnny quickly released a girlish squeal before running out of the bathroom, tripping over the passed out Helga.

Helga sat up, clutching her stomach, "Ow! What the fuck man?" She immediately noticed that he was naked, "Fuck, put on some pants!"

"Helga, don't go in the bathroom! There is a horse in the bathroom!"

"No there's not," Gerald replied from the couch.

"I'll check it out," Helga mumbled as she jumped to her feet. She was half-dressed, her black dress was pulled down so it all bunched up around her waist and showed off her pink bra. She opened the door and peered inside to see a very large brown horse standing beside the bathtub. "Holy shit, there's a horse in there!"

"No way!"

Helga adjusted her dress before walking over to Gerald. She stood beside him, half-smiling, "You okay?"

Gerald held his head in his hands, "No, I am in so much pain."

"WHY IS THERE A HORSE IN THE BATHROOM? IT COULD HAVE KICKED ME!"

"Bro, put on some pants," Helga demanded, "I think it's weird I have to say it twice."

"Pants at a time like this?" he muttered while he picked up a discarded silk robe from the ground.

"Just go wake up Arnold, we'll go get some coffee, and everything will be okay," Helga waved her hand to dismiss Johnny. Johnny quickly began searching the bedrooms, only to see them unoccupied. He ran across the hallway, sliding in his socks and smashing face first into the closed door. Helga laughed a little while Johnny returned to his feet and opened the door.

Arnold wasn't in any of the rooms.

"Guys, Arnold isn't here!"

"What?" they asked simultaneously.

"He's not in any of the rooms. It's like we didn't even touch them, they're still clean."

"Shit!" Gerald massaged his temples, feeling his headache becoming more painful by the second.

"He probably went to get food or something, relax." Helga picked up Gerald's cell phone, dialing his number. A cell phone began ringing on the bar. Johnny laughed and picked it up, jokingly answering, "Hello?"

Helga hung up and tossed Gerald's cell phone back at him. "Let's go downstairs and look-"

There was a faint sound of a child crying.

"What the fuck is that?" Gerald asked.

Helga jumped to her feet and began searching the hotel room with Gerald and Johnny on her heels. Helga opened the small coat closet, only to gasp in surprise as a two-year-old girl looked up at her.

"We stole a kid!" Helga hissed.

"Are you sure there was no one else in here Johnny?" Gerald asked as he picked the little girl up. She continued to cry but Gerald began to gently bounce her, despite the pain he felt radiating over his body.

"Positive, no one else was in the room."

Helga clenched her fists, "Fuck, we don't have time for this. We have get Arnold!"

Gerald stopped bouncing her, "We can't leave a kid in here, there's a horse in the bathroom! It could escape and squish her!"

"Fine, she'll come with us until we find her mother. Jesus Christ, you guys. . . and Johnny?"

"Yeah?"

"Put on some fucking pants!"

The three stood in the elevator in silence. Johnny was sitting on the ground, holding the girl steady between his legs as she danced to the elevator music.

Gerald held his head in his hands, "Why can't we remember a goddamn thing about last night?"

"We obviously had a great time! Relax, I've spent many mornings in different places not knowing how I got there. Everything will be okay. We'll meet up with Arnold, exchange the kid, and leave before anyone sees our room."

"That's not even our room!" Gerald reminded her.

"So?" Helga replied as they stepped out onto the lobby. They quickly went outside onto the pool deck, Helga scanning the crowd for Arnold.

"Order me some coffee, I'm gonna go search," Gerald quickly took off in the opposite direction towards the lobby.

Helga and Johnny sat down in silence, both watching the little girl as she drew with crayons on the paper menu. "What are we supposed to do with her?" Johnny asked.

"She's a kid, just give her a doll or something. She'll be fine."

After placing their order and receiving their food, Gerald returned looking even more distraught. "I checked everywhere, the gym, the lobby, the restaurants, the front desk, the bars. He's not anywhere."

"It's alright, okay? Arnold's an adult, he can handle himself. Calm down. Just drink your coffee and let's get going," Helga shoved the cup of coffee into Gerald's face, which caused him to puke onto the ground.

The little girl grimaced as she ate her pancakes.

"Alright, let's just retrace our steps." Helga flipped over an unused napkin and began writing, "We left Johnny's at 11:30, then what?"

"We hit up that new club in Times Square," Johnny laughed, "then got into someone's limo."

"Okay," Helga wrote that down.

"Fuck, I don't even remember the other club!" Gerald gagged again.

"I don't really either." Helga leaned back and held her head, "Shit, I've never been this hungover before."

"I totally blacked out in the limo," Johnny laughed as he bit into his waffle.

"Everyone check your pockets for clues and phones for photos, we gotta have some sort of something. . ." Helga's voice trailed off as she dumped her purse onto the table and began sifting through the receipts. She rolled an unfamiliar cell phone in her hands. She didn't own an iPhone 4.

"Guys this isn't my phone-"

She stopped when he heard Johnny gasp at the video he discovered on his BlackBerry. "Jesus H. Christ," he muttered.

Gerald dove from his chair across the table, snatching the phone out of Johnny's hand. "Is it Arnold?"

"Yeah, but uh. . ." Johnny started but Gerald, after seeing a nanosecond of the video, threw it back at John in disgust.

"What?" Helga asked, picking the phone up off the table.

The blurry image replayed on the small screen and Helga covered her mouth with both hands to keep her earth shattering scream in.

"That's what I think it is, right?" Gerald asked, covering his eyes as if that would take the memory away.

"A video of Helga going down on Arnold in the elevator? Oh yeah," John replied as he started the video over again, watching with mild revulsion. "It was taken at 7:02 a.m."

Helga covered her face in her hands, "Oh, good God! I can't believe it! Mother fucker! Why am I such a whore?"

"You're not a whore," John said as he slid his phone across the table again, "That's a whore!"

"Guys, language," Gerald reminded them as he nodded his head in the direction of the little girl. His reminder went unnoticed as he and Helga looked away in disgust at the new photo. "Turn it off!"

"Hehe, Helga, you were best friends with this hooker!" Helga had her arms wrapped around the thin waist of a dirty looking older woman in a red bikini top and neon yellow skirt. Helga was in the middle of leaning in to kiss the woman's cheek when the photo was snapped.

Helga snarled, "Enough of the photos, Johnny!"

"I also have our valet ticket. Looks like we got in at 7."

"Shit, we drove last night?" Helga massaged her temples. Not once in her life had she ever driven drunk. Oh, God.

Gerald unfurled the papers Helga left on the table, holding up each thing as he announced it. "I have our stolen room key, a poorly drawn set up of street acts in Times Square, a receipt for Black Hawk's Tattoos and Piercings-"

Johnny laughed, tipping back in his chair, "No way, who got a tattoo?"

"It says," Gerald squinted to read the tiny print in his sunglasses,"'$45.00, LOWER BACK AND CHEST - DESIGN 2349 IN PINK'. It was printed at 2 a.m." Both boys turned to Helga.

Groaning, Helga stood up and picked her dress up off her back. Gerald released a girlish squeal. "Oh my god!"

"What?" Helga cried in desperation.

"You have the words 'MOVE IT FOOTBALL HEAD' tattooed on your lower back in block lettering. You have a tramp stamp!"

Helga quickly looked down her dress, only to feel another scream bubbling up in her throat. "And I have the words 'I heart the beach' tattooed on my boob. Godmotherfuckingdamn it! This is going to be painful to remove!"

Gerald shook his head back and forth in disappointment. "I honestly don't know what's worse, the tattoos or the blow job."

"Blow jobs," John corrected, holding up his phone to display another video of Helga and Arnold in a limo. "At least, that's what I think is happening. . ." Gerald covered his eyes again, feeling his stomach knot.

Helga fixed her shirt and returned to her seat. "Well, in case you haven't looked in a mirror lately, Geraldo, you have two large diamond earrings."

Gerald hesitantly slid his hand across the side of his face, only to wince when he came in contact with the sore cartilage that now held two large holes. "You didn't think to point it out sooner?"

"I thought you always had them," John replied.

"Okay, I'll worry about this later. We should go to the tattoo place. We have to find Arnold!"

The three hungover friends rose to their feet, Helga and Gerald watching with amusement as Johnny picked up the child.

"What's your name?" he asked in a baby voice.

"Caroline," she replied before sticking her thumb into her mouth.

"Alright, we'll I'll keep you safe today Caroline," Johnny promised as they exited the hotel lobby.

They patiently waited for their car to be returned to them, although Helga had no idea anyone drove a car. She was hoping it was the limo the stole because that at least came with a driver.

"Guys, look!" Gerald pointed to the bronze sign that said FOUR SEASONS tacked on the side of the hotel. Hanging off of it was Arnold's shirt, now ripped to shreds.

"Holy shit," Helga gasped. "That's Arnold's shirt!"

"Oh, no, guys, we have bigger problems," Gerald said. A yellow taxi pulled up in front of them. "What the-?"

"Act cool, just get in," Helga demanded as she slipped the valet guy a five dollar bill.

"Cool, it's like Taxi!" Johnny laughed as he opened the door and helped the little girl in.

Gerald whipped around to face Johnny, "This is not cool, Johnny! We stole someone's taxi last night and we have a missing child in our possession! This is not cool."

Ten minutes later the group pulled up to a small building one block away from the beginning of Times Square. "Leave the kid," Helga demanded as she opened the window.

Gerald stepped out of the car, "Are you crazy?"

"We'll be gone five minutes," she replied. "The window's cracked, she'll be okay."

Saturday, December 31st - 9:00 a.m.

"Hello?" Helga called as she opened the door. A small bell jingled above her head, and moments later a very large man appeared in the hallway. He was wearing black pants and a solid black shirt with no sleeves to show off his dozens of tattoos. Most were skulls and crossbones done in different colors, sizes and designs. He had a dragon tattoo coiled around his neck.

"Hey, you guys came back for more!" he laughed, shaking his very large gut.

Helga pulled out the napkin and pen, "No, no, we came for answers."

The man sat down behind his counter, elbows resting on the glass display case showing off various tattoo designs. "Where is everyone else?"

"Who?" Gerald asked.

"You know, the red head and the football face?"

"He was with us last night?"

"Yeah, you guys were all going batshit crazy about some wedding you'd just come from. You wanted to celebrate with tattoos." The man pointed at Gerald, "You and your wife both got piercings."

Gerald blinked slowly, feeling as if his lungs and brain shut off completely. Helga's brows furrowed as she stared at the man she assumed was Black Hawk, "Wait, what?"