Anyone else unable to think of Ke$ha and without thinking about Figgins saying "Tic and also Tock by rapper Kee-Dollar Sign-Ha."? No, just me?
And we don't care if you stare and call us scummy.
Kurt and Blaine walked into their building to an unwelcome sound: the all-too familiar bass of music being blasted through a stereo. "Why tonight? Of all of the nights ever, why does there have to be a party in our building tonight?" Blaine asked, leaning on Kurt's shoulder.
"Don't worry, the landlord is out to dinner with his wife tonight. If we call him and interrupt his dinner, he'll get angry and call the cops. Then it will be over," Kurt said. They climbed the stairs and the music only got louder. The volume increased exponentially when they reached their floor and stepped onto the landing. "You don't think…?" Kurt asked Blaine.
"No, Santana's not that stupid," Blaine replied. They unlocked the door to the loft and saw the dozens of people that had gathered inside. "Okay, never mind, she is," Blaine said.
"Boys!" Santana exclaimed, clearly drunk. "Come join the party!"
"No, thank you," Kurt said, pushing past all of the people and going back to the bedroom with Blaine close behind.
"How are we going to get all of these people out of here?" Blaine asked.
"Ugh, I don't know, give me a minute to think," Kurt replied.
As if right on cue, the music stopped. "NYPD," a loud, male voice said. The boys both sighed with relief and went to watch Santana's party get broken up. "We've gotten quite a few noise complaints, so everyone, except the people who live here, is going to have to leave," the officer said.
Everyone vacated, leaving just Blaine, Kurt, Santana, and the officer. "Did all of you throw this party?" the officer asked.
"We just got home," Kurt and Blaine said almost in unison.
Santana rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed that they didn't cover for her.
"Young lady, you have quite a few fines to pay," the officer said. He scrawled out a ticket and left.
Santana just glared at Kurt and Blaine as she stomped back to her room.
"Aren't you going to clean up?" Kurt called.
Santana yelled a few expletives and slammed her door.
"I guess we have to," Kurt said, surveying the damage. They spent the night cleaning up after Santana's guests, aggravated, but at least it was getting done.