Las Vegas was proving to be even wilder than the group had expected. After an entire day filled with viral fame, showdowns on the Strip, and even the unexpected intervention of Taylor Swift, Samantha Giddings, Mike Munroe, Jessica Riley, Emily Davis, Chris Hartley, Ashley Brown, Matt Taylor, Joshua Washington, Laura Kearney, Max Brinly, Abigail Blyg, Kaitlyn Ka, Nick Furcillo, Emma Mountebank, Ryan Erzahler, Dylan Lenivy, and Jacob Custos were finally ready to wind down. Well, as much as anyone could "wind down" in a city like Vegas.

After bidding a fond (and hilarious) farewell to Taylor Swift, who had been their companion during the chaos of the Strip, the group decided to cap off their night by heading to Mystère by Cirque du Soleil. It promised to be a mesmerizing, circus-like escape, far from the madness of reality stars and unexpected rap battles.

As they approached the giant white and red tent-like building of the Treasure Island theater, Jessica stretched her arms and yawned. "Finally, a night where we can just chill and enjoy the show without someone throwing a chair or rapping about Jacob."

"Don't jinx it," Jacob warned with a laugh. "Knowing my luck, Michael Han will probably be in one of the acrobat costumes."

Kaitlyn snorted. "Please, he's not flexible enough for Cirque du Soleil. Unless the act is throwing tantrums."

The group chuckled as they filed into the massive theater, taking their seats. The energy inside the theater was electric, but this time, it was in a good way. The lights dimmed, the opening music started, and the performers emerged, dazzling in their eccentric costumes and impossible acrobatic moves.

For the first half of the show, it was exactly what the group needed. A thrilling, visually stunning experience that had them all mesmerized.

Until, of course, the inevitable happened.

The Shade of Mystère

The performance was in full swing when suddenly, the background music shifted. What had been the haunting, mystical sounds of Cirque du Soleil's signature style suddenly turned into something… familiar. Familiar in the worst way.

"Wait, is that…?" Ryan trailed off, squinting at the stage as a distinct beat dropped over the speakers.

The group collectively cringed. Sure enough, blaring from the speakers was none other than the instrumental track of Michael Han's cringeworthy rap, the one he had performed during their last nightclub adventure.

"You've GOT to be kidding me," Mike muttered, rubbing his temples in disbelief.

A few audience members who weren't in on the joke politely clapped, thinking it was part of the show. But the group knew better. This was pure, unadulterated shade.

The performer on stage, dressed as a flamboyant clown with exaggerated movements, began mockingly lip-syncing to Michael Han's rap, spinning around and making exaggerated gestures as if he were parodying Michael's over-the-top attitude.

And just as the first verse of the cringe rap was about to kick in, the music abruptly cut off, replaced by a much more dignified, classical Cirque du Soleil score. The crowd burst into laughter, and the group couldn't help but join in.

"Oh my god, they just shaded him so hard," Abigail whispered, giggling behind her hand.

"I live for this level of pettiness," Jessica said, nearly choking on her laughter.

Jacob grinned, leaning back in his seat. "Now that's how you handle Mic-Crazy Ass. Just cut him off entirely."

For a few moments, it seemed like the Cirque performers were in on the joke, acknowledging the group's history with Michael Han without saying a word. The shade was real, and it was glorious.

Enter Michael Han, Stage Left

The show continued, filled with breathtaking acrobatics, contortionists, and surreal performances that had everyone enraptured. But halfway through, just as the group was starting to fully immerse themselves in the magic of the show, something—or rather, someone—broke the spell.

There was a murmur among the audience as a performer dressed in a golden outfit approached the stage. He danced and spun with grace, but as he stepped to the front, the spotlight hit him, and the group's collective heart dropped.

Because standing there, in all his overly dramatic glory, was Michael Han.

"What the hell?" Nick whispered, his eyes wide. "Is that—"

"MICHAEL HAN?!" Dylan nearly shouted, drawing stares from a few nearby audience members.

The group gawked as Michael, clearly having finagled his way onto the stage, strutted out as though he were some kind of headlining act. The audience, who had no idea of the backstory, politely clapped, clearly assuming this was part of the show.

But the group knew better.

"Oh god, he's going to do something," Emma muttered under her breath, sinking into her seat. "I can feel it."

And right on cue, Michael's eyes landed directly on Emma. He stared at her with the intensity of a reality TV villain who believed he was filming the most dramatic confession of his life.

Jacob, who had officially reached his breaking point with Michael's obsession, flipped him off from the audience, the motion so casual and effortless it was like second nature at this point.

Chris, watching the bizarre scene unfold, leaned over to Ashley. "This guy… he's a total freakshow."

Ashley nodded, her face twisted in disbelief. "He's not even subtle about it. It's like he thinks this is his moment or something."

Sure enough, Michael, soaking in the attention like the delusional egomaniac he was, continued to eye Emma, as if trying to force her to look at him.

Jacob muttered under his breath, "If he sings another rap about me, I swear to god, I'll—"

But before Jacob could finish his sentence, Michael, ever the show-off, grabbed a mic from a nearby performer.

"Hey Vegas! Let's give it up for me, Michael Han!" Michael shouted into the microphone, his voice echoing through the theater.

The group collectively groaned.

"Someone get him off the stage!" Josh whispered frantically, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I thought this was Cirque du Soleil, not Cirque du Michael Han's Ego," Emma muttered.

Sofi Tukker and the Final Showdown

Just when it seemed like things couldn't get any more cringe-inducing, the lights dimmed, and a familiar beat began playing over the speakers.

"Wait a second," Kaitlyn said, sitting up. "Is that… Sofi Tukker?"

Sure enough, the musical duo that had saved them from Michael's rap disaster at the nightclub the night before appeared on stage, looking just as confused as the audience but clearly ready to salvage the situation.

"Vegas, are you ready for the real show?" Sophie called out, clearly signaling that it was time for Michael to exit stage left.

But Michael, predictably, wasn't ready to give up the spotlight just yet. He began rapping again, this time directing every line at Jacob and Emma.

"Custos can't handle me, I'm the real G—"

Before Michael could finish another verse, Jacob jumped to his feet. "Alright, that's it! I'm taking this mic!"

With surprising agility, Jacob leaped onto the stage, snatched the microphone from Michael's hand, and launched into his own freestyle, the audience cheering in surprise.

"Michael thinks he's tough, but he's just a clown, wearing a frown, acting like he owns this town!"

The crowd erupted into laughter and applause as Jacob continued rapping, completely taking over Michael's moment. Sofi Tukker joined in, playing a beat behind Jacob, encouraging the chaos.

Michael, now thoroughly humiliated and clearly realizing he was losing control of the narrative, tried to interrupt, but Sophie stepped in, waving her hand. "Michael, maybe it's time you took a break from the stage, yeah?"

The crowd agreed, cheering loudly as Michael stood there, dumbfounded.

The Final Humiliation

Just as Michael was preparing to make a final, desperate plea for attention, fate dealt him one last humiliating blow.

From somewhere in the audience, a drink was hurled in Michael's direction, splashing all over his outfit. The crowd gasped, and then immediately erupted into laughter.

Michael, now dripping with liquid, looked around in utter disbelief. "You're all BULLIES!" he shouted, pointing angrily at the group.

Matt, who had remained quiet through most of the chaos, stood up and calmly replied, "No, man. You're the bully."

Jacob, smirking, couldn't resist. "You're a Mic-Crazy Ass, Michael."

And as if on cue, the DJ grabbed the mic and echoed, "Let's hear it for Mic-Crazy Ass!"

The audience roared, and Michael, now fully drenched and beyond humiliated, stormed off the stage in a fit of rage. In his tantrum, he flipped a bar chair toward the audience, but it only grazed the floor, drawing more laughter from the crowd.

As Michael finally disappeared into the back, the group erupted into uncontrollable laughter.

"I can't believe that just happened," Laura said, wiping tears from her eyes. "We just turned Cirque du Soleil into a roast session."

Ryan, still chuckling, raised his drink. "I'm not sure what kind of Cirque show I expected, but this? This is better than I could've ever imagined."

The Curtain Call

With Michael Han finally out of their lives (for real this time, they hoped), the group settled back into their seats, enjoying the rest of Mystère and laughing about the ridiculousness of their night.

As the curtain fell on the final act, and the performers took their bows, Sofi Tukker waved at the group from the stage, grinning.

"Thanks for making this one of the wildest nights we've had," Sophie called out, before disappearing behind the curtain.

The group, still buzzing from the chaos of the night, stood up and stretched, knowing that this Vegas trip had been one for the history books.

"Alright," Josh said, clapping his hands together. "What's next?"

Jessica grinned. "Well, whatever it is, I just hope Mic-Crazy Ass isn't invited."

The group burst into laughter as they made their way out of the theater, leaving behind the chaos of Cirque du Soleil—and Michael Han—for what they hoped was the last time.

But then again, this was Vegas. Anything could happen.

And they wouldn't have it any other way.