"Okay, so we're all in on this, right?"

"Oh, ofs course!"

"Thish ish gonna be great!"

"I bet I's get drunks faster thans Tokis!"

"Don't start anythin' Skwisgaahr, I wanna enjoy this."

It was planned out like this: Everyone was going to get as drunk as possible, as fast as possible. The last person standing would be declared the winner, if they didn't end up changing plans half way down the road to whatever drunken stupor would follow. There weren't any rules, only that you had to get as hammered as possible, giving absolutely no care to the risk of liver poisoning. After all, they've had plenty liver transplants in the past. One more added to the list couldn't hurt.

Once the mountain of booze was set up in front of them, the rec. room turned into a mess of alcohol and determined band mates. It was hard for them to concentrate on who was doing what, especially with bottles pressed to their faces for most of the time. The scent of what seemed to be every possible alcoholic beverage practically oozed off the walls around them.

Most of it was a blur of dizziness, hiccuping, and bad singing (from Toki only). There were several small puddles of what was hoped to be anything but urine leaving somewhat of a polka dot pattern on the floor. A few broken bottles were at their feet, and Murderface had failed to avoid stepping on shards of glass. In the end, the room was littered with unknown liquids, broken glass, blood, and a singing Toki. How lovely.

It really was a sight so see. Skwisgaar was leaning on the wall, babbling about something involving a bucket and some Swedish gibberish. Murderface was complaining about the glass in his feet, proceeding to topple over and take some empty bottles with him (of course, only ending up in more shards of broken glass).

Toki and Pickles were in a one-sided singing contest since the drummer didn't even get a chance to do his part, and Nathan was apparently supposed to be the judge even though he was paying absolutely no attention to his surroundings.

Soon enough, the frontman spoke up during the madness. "Hey, guys-" "THIS GLASSH IS SSSSHO SHARP! W-WHY... WHY ISH THISH GLASSH SO SH-SHARP? FUCKPISSH!" "Uhh... guys-" "Oh gahd Toki, please jist stahp singin'..." "GUYS-" "Pfft... dildos Toki. I's sings better... dan... Anyways, dat... dat buckets was... w-what?" "GUUUUUUUYS!"

Complete silence. Well, other than the shifting glass on the floor. "We should... totally play hide and seek." A giggle from Toki. "But w-whys, Natens? Dats so..." "I'm in!" Pickles grinned widely. Anything to get away from the singing Norwegian. "Ja, I'm ins too, d-dis ams will be fun..!" Murderface mumbled something vulgar-sounding, finally regaining his balance enough to stand up without slipping or wobbling. "Toki should.. go first. I don't think any of us are sober enough ta walk areeound Mordhaus for an heeour, but he has... uh... expeerience."

A few nods of agreement were exchanged, and soon the rhythm guitarist was standing in a corner with his hands over his eyes, counting (badly). "One... twoooos... f-fo... threeees... four... fiiiiives... six... ei- sevennn..." Pause. "Twoooos..." It was definitely going to take the guy a long time to get to twenty. The rest of the band took this as an opportunity to look around for good hiding places.

The first one to find an unlikely spot was Skwisgaar. Seeing as how it was the least expected place for him to be found, he stumbled into Toki's bedroom, hiding in the closet. Even though it was an obvious place, Pickles felt he wasn't drunk enough and made his way to a liquor cabinet. Murderface... well, I honestly don't know what could've been going through his mind as he made his way to the roof, still cringing from the stinging pain in his feet.

Nathan, seeing Charles' office as the first place to go, immediately swung the door open without warning. "Uh... Can I... help you, Nathan?" Ofdensen could easily tell that the frontman had been drinking a fair amount of alcohol. "I... err... can I hide under your... desk?" This ended up with a raised eyebrow as an answer. "Is there any particular reason you feel the need to hide under my desk?" The gears turned in Nathan's head to process what was just asked.

"We're playing hide and seek." There was somewhat of an embarrassed look to the drunken lead singer, as if it mattered more if someone like Charles found out than if one of his band mates did. It wasn't exactly a 'brutal' thing to admit, even if everyone else was joining in. "Very well. I'll be doing some work, so-" "Can you cover for me... if anyone comes in?" This definitely seemed like an unusually childish thing for everyone to be doing, but the manager shrugged. "I suppose." Standing up and moving his chair out of the way to give Nathan room, he waited until the other was uncomfortably situated.

The lead singer realized why his manager had such discomfort with the situation when he found himself at level with quite an eyeful. Still, he cast his staring off as a side effect from drinking enough alcohol to make someone's liver implode. The awkwardness in the room was thick enough to cut with one of Murderface's knives. "So... uh... what kind of work are you doing?" "Just keeping track of receipts and upcoming, ah, events." Silence again.

There wasn't much conversation, most of it was about random things just to try to refrain from stating how 'gay' the situation was. "Hm. Maybe I sh-should... uh.. stand up. I don't think anyone's coming." He assumed there was a nod since Charles backed away from the desk to let him out. It took quite an amusing amount of time for him to crawl out and stand up without breaking anything from falling.

Suddenly, a very hilarious thought popped up in Nathan's mind. "Hey.. remember... remember when you got drunk with us?" He could see the manager's shoulders tense very slightly. "I'd rather not talk about it, Nathan." A drunken smirk played on his face. Finally, some entertainment. If it wasn't gay before, it sure as hell was going to be now. "Why not? Is it because you almost fell down the stairs, or because I grabbed your ass?"

He watched as the usually calm and professional CFO's eye twitched, and there was somewhat of a sense of discomfort. This was fun! "I'd rather talk about something else." Time to really push his buttons. "What, you didn't like it?" That's what really irked him, and it showed clearly in his facial expression. "Was I supposed to?" The irritated question earned a shrug.

The more time went by, the more Nathan wanted to crack Ofdensen. It was the only source of entertainment at the moment, and one could only imagine how long it was going to take Toki to count- let alone find anybody. Practically towering over the most brutal band manager in the world, he made sure to get things really uncomfortable in the room. "I like you better when you're drunk..." He leaned down and lightly pulled on the other's red tie. "You're less... professional." Even though there wasn't any stuttering, the slurring in his voice made itself known.

It finally ripped Charles' attention away from his work when he was able to smell the alcohol coming from the breath that began smacking against his neck. He backed the chair away from him. "N-Nathan, I really think you shou-" the door slammed open, revealing a frustrated Norwegian. It was quite a sight to see, in that room. Nathan was bent over and holding their manager's tie in his hand while Ofdensen was leaning away, seemingly flustered by the other. "Ha-haaa! Toki wins! You alls losers! In yous face, Skwisgaar!" And he proceeded to run out of the room.

With a devilish smirk and a low laugh, the frontman let go of the tie in his hand and headed out to the hallway like nothing ever happened. The room was quiet after the door shut. Now that he had his privacy, Charles leaned back and tried to get the previous events out of his memory. Maybe he needed some quiet time to think things over, maybe to get everything off of his mind. Before he was able to do anything, the office door slammed open.

"Hey butlers man, can I hides in here?"