Party rock is in the house (Scott)

[DAN OWENS]

God, Dan loved parties. Or, more specifically, Dan loved booze. And occasionally, Dan loved getting so motherfucking wasted he had no idea why he could hardly move the next morning; sometimes those were the best sorts of nights a guy his age could ask for, really. And thank the Lord tonight seemed to be turning out to be one of those nights. He'd been drunk for at least an hour now, maybe two, and had already been out back with three of the girls in attendance (granted, nothing serious had happened, but it had been a glorious evening anyway). Why he hadn't been to a party in months, Dan honestly had no idea. Probably because of school. And work. But both of those seemed like really stupid reasons now that he was here and actually drinking.

Or...he had been drinking, anyway, until... "Fuck. 'Scuse me," he slurred a bit at the girl sitting next to him on the couch, having just realized his cup had run dry. Stumbling once or twice in his quest towards the keg, Dan hardly noticed the beginnings of a headache creeping up on him. Or maybe he did notice, and just knew more beer would cure it. Either way, he was moving towards the most crowded area of the party as if his life depended on it.

Filling the cup with more ambrosia, Dan turned around to return to his seat next to the girl from earlier only to find it occupied. Which maybe was okay...she was really only a seven, anyway. He took a sip from the cup and shrugged before beginning the trek down the hallway towards (hopefully) bigger and better things. Like maybe tits. Sweet Jesus, he was drunk, wasn't he? It was just as this realization crossed him mind for the fifth time that night that he found himself careening straight into another guy, probably about his age. Naturally, some of the contents of Dan's cup sloshed its way onto the other person's shirt. "Aw, shit. I'm sorry, man," he said with an easy grin, reaching out to give the kid a clap on the shouder. "You alrigh'? Looking up and into the stranger's face, Dan noticed suddenly that there was something familiar about him. This guy, whoever he was, had to be in his grade or something, right? He'd seen him around campus for sure. "Say. Say, I know you...Don't I?" he spoke a bit louder than necessary, even with the music playing as loud as it was.


ooc: bahah let's just...ignore the thread title, shall we? >.>

[SCOTT PARKER]

Holy fucking shit, this was actually a majorly killer party. Scott was definitely going to have to thank...thank...well, thank WHOEVER the fuck it was that had decided to throw it. He was on his fourth or fifth, right? He was allowed to forget the name of the guy who started the whole thing. Besides, Scott was like, 80% sure that he had only been invited by a friend of a friend. It was all a little fuzzy, to be honest, but whatever.

Technically, if Scott felt any sort of connection to his liver, he really ought to slow down with all the drinking. At the third raging party this week, he was headed down a slippery slope into alcoholism. Swaying slowly to the beat of the music, however, it was easy to shrug off the scary future of cirrhosis and focus only on the pulsing beat and the conglomeration of writhing bodies all over the room. How could he actually worry about anything when the entire room was obviously feeling so over the moon and the music was blasting in his ears?

Bobbing and weaving to the tune, Scott made his way through the room, butting into a few people dancing together, but he never stuck around long enough to see any of their faces. He just needed like, just one more cup full, right? And then maybe he might need to sit down, because his head was already swimming. God, that would make him the most awesome guy in the room if he were the only one drunk on his ass enough to collapse in the middle of the dance floor.

Stumbling through the hall, he managed to make a head on collision with some guy, immediately feeling the splash of a cool drink on his chest. He hardly cared though, it wasn't like Scott often gave much thought to his clothes. He could just add it to the collection of other shirts and clothes that had been stained by paint or super glue or what have you. An abrupt pat on the back was really all he needed, and then he could continue on to get something more to drink.

"Oh, hey, nah, that's probably just me. I'm fine, buddy."

He was about to keep walking on, but the guy just kept talking to him, asking if they knew each other. Scott looked at him for the first real time, trying to see if the face was familiar. The beer goggles weren't exactly doing a great job helping the situation, but finally a realization dawned on him.

"Oh, hey, yeah. Hey, weren't you one of the guys in dorm 4E 2 or 3 years ago? Man, your parties were SICK! Shit, you were like, the only reason I made it through Freshman year."

He swayed slightly, remembering fondly the memories of partying years gone by. Those had been what had gotten him out of his shell. Caught with a stupid grin on his face, Scott looked seriously at the guy.

"Hey, buddy - what's your name? - lemme go get you another drink. You totally deserve it."

ooc: pfft, it's no problem. I had to listen to "Last Friday Night" on repeat to work this one out.

[DAN OWENS]

"Sure 'bout that? Looks like a nice shirt," Dan flashed the stranger a look of momentary concern before shrugging. He actually couldn't see the shirt at all, what with the lights as dim as they were, but who knew, maybe the guy really liked it. "Whatever, man," Dan took another swig from his cup, which was now about half empty. Dammit. He stared at the liquid inside angrily for a minute before realizing the guy was talking to him. Answering his question. Oh, right....he probably should have been paying attention for an answer, shouldn't he...?

A wide smile spread across Dan's face as he nodded eagerly at the semi-stranger's realization; that was where he knew him. It had been on the tip of his tongue, of course, but there was something about beer that made it harder to say things like that. It was the one problem with the stuff, really. "Yeah, man, tha's me. Knew I knew ya from some'er... he took another drink from his cup before raising it in the air, sloshing some of its contents overboard. "Aw, shit. he shrugged again before looking back at the guy he apparently knew from years ago. "Hang on, wait jus one second. How old'r you, anyway? Cuz there was this one kid, 'n he used ta--he used ta get soooo wasted and he'd... Dan trailed off, suddenly having forgotten exactly what that kid did that was so hilarious. He shook his head. "But he was older, so...nope. Not him,"

The more Dan talked, he more he realized what an idiot he sounded like, but he hardly cared at this point. He probably wouldn't even remember in the morning. At the mention of more drinks, Dan held up his cup again, beaming.

" 'S Dan. Let's get you one too," he added, looking him up and down "You don't look like you're having nearly enough fun, Mr. Whatsyername." and with that Dan began making his way back towards the keg from which he'd just came, looking over his shoulder to make sure he was being followed.

[SCOTT PARKER]

This was EXACTLY the kind of thing that Scott loved about parties. Like, he would probably never have seen this guy again except for right here in the party scene, and look what the magical powers of booze brought him? A chance encounter with the king of the partiers himself as freshman Scottie had known him. Where else would such an awesome case of serendipity happen? Now they could like, reminisce about graduated upperclassmen from back in the day, or like, that TOTALLY awesome party Scott was, like, pretty sure this dude had thrown that one time. He was pretty sure that someone had managed to sneak in a kiddie pool or wait-maybe that was somewhere else. No, wait, had he made that up? How could you even fit an inflatable kiddie pool in a dorm? There was something inherently wrong with that logic. Maybe it was just like-

OH, Dan. Yeah. That sounded familiar. Kinda. Maybe. Sorta? Whatever, he knew it now, and that was what counted, right? Besides he didn't have time to worry about like, the rules of etiquette for knowing someone's name before one went to a party they were hosting. They were apparently already moving through the crowd again, over toward the keg. Riiight, that's what Scottie was making his way over to in the beginning anyway, before he met Dan-the-party-king and started thinking about fitting a pool in a dorm. He shook his head slightly as he made his way over, blinking a few times. Right-o, just gotta stay on his feet. Just had to keep up and alert.

Some more booze oughta' solve the problem, right?

Cozying up to the keg, Scott hit the tap to fill up two more plastic red cups, handing one to Dan-the-party-king as he took a slug of the other, sniggering like a maniac while trying to think how to continue the conversation. Where had they left off?

"Oh, yeah, I'm Scott, but like, most people call me Scottie, so y'know, whatever. I usually don't give a shit what people call-"

Oh, shit. All it took was those first few notes and Scott was instantly on another planet. Fuck, he fucking LOVED this song. Why the hell weren't they playing it more often? He felt like he hadn't heard it in AGES. Why the shit were they playing that new crap instead of sticking to the classics? This was the best fucking song in the whole entire world!

"Fuck, man, I LOVE this song. Like, shit. Really though..." He trailed off, as the chorus drew near, before loudly belting out in what he considered a close enough pitch ""JUST A SMALL TOWN GIRL... LIVIN' IN LONELY WOO-ORLD." He grinned at Dan-the-party-king, particularly pleased with his lyric knowledge.

Fuck, this party ROCKED.

[DAN OWENS]

Accepting his glass with only the implied thanks necessary, Dan drank heartily from the cup, hardly caring that he was going to sorely regret all this come morning. Then again, he probably wouldn't rememer what he was regretting so it wasn't even really the same thing, was it? He didn't really want to think about all that now, though. Too much work for a night that was supposed to be about nothing at all.

Scott...the name rang a bell somewhere, but where, Dan had no idea. He'd never made it a habit to memorize the names of every one of his legendary parties' guests; that would have required knowing over three fourths of the entire campus and in truth, Dan just wasn't that invested in the idea. So long as people came to the parties and talked about them afterwards he hadn't given a shit about who made it there.

Hearing the name of his newfound companion, Dan removed the drink from his lips. "Scottaaayy!!" he whooped approvingly at the nickname, raising his glass in a sort of makeshift cheer no one else followed. Not that he minded. Silent as he took another swig of beer, Dan only noticed that he'd begun to sway to the song blasting over the speakers about twelve seconds into the most epic intro ever to grace the music industry. He brought his cup slowly away from his face, treading delicately in the moment so as to assess Scott's reaction to what could only be described as the best fucking song known to mankind.

And then...shit behold...He was singing! Scott was fucking singing to Dan's favorite song, all without knowing what a fantastic little diddy it was. Not even a diddy. No, this was better than that. Infinately better than that. Grinning broadly, Dan nodded his encouragement towards Scott's clearly-alcohol-induced vocal talent. He waited a few seconds before belting out his own rendition of the song, so as to have ample time to demonstrate his mad air guitar skills, hardly noticing when he spilled some more beer onto the floor. Hell, he was in the zone.

"... A SMELL 'A WINE 'N CHEAP PERFUUMMEE...FOR A SMILE THEY CAN SHARE THE NIGHT--" returning the grin, Dan pointed his finger in Dan's direction, waiting for him to round off the rest of the lyrics. God, they probably sounded fantastic.

[SCOTT PARKER]

Oh, shit. Scottay? That was like, the best nickname Scott had EVER heard used for himself. It was so much more elaborate and awesome than the mono-syllabic name written on his birth certificate, and shit, even the supposedly much more fun version of 'Scottie' seemed uptight and formal in comparison. Scottay sounded exotic. It sounded wild. It sounded....french. Like some poor immigrant had failed to correctly read his name. It was exactly what Scott had needed. It perfectly captured the roaming free spirit that was his artistic nature. It wondrously signified the drunken antics that ensued whenever he went to a party. It...it....well, other than that, he assumed it was fun to say, so that was another bonus point.

For a second he was sidetracked by the possibility of getting people to refer to him as Scottay from now on, but even his drunken brain quickly shot that idea down. People didn't just go around changing their names to cooler things. That was just plain weird.

Righto, back to the song. Why was he wasting precious lyrics thinking about the etiquette for getting a name change when he could be singing along to the best lyrics ever written by mortal hands? Wait, no, scratch that last bit. Journey must have transcended the rest of humanity upon writing this wonderful song. The day they first played Don't Stop Believing they became gods walking among mere mortals.

Aw, shit yeah. Dan-the-party-king was breaking out the air guitar for this song? Where the fuck had this guy been for the past three years? Scott had totally been in need of another drinking buddy who wasn't afraid to get down and dirty. Adrian would drink with him, sure, but his freaky neatfreakness always ruined things before anything good happened. Scott lived by the motto "It's not a good party until at least three lamps are smashed," and Adrian ALWAYS ruined that for him. It was despicable.

Scott proudly belted out at the top of his lungs the rest of the words"IT GOES ON AND ON AND ON AND OOON!" while improvising what he considered to be a stunning rendition of the drum line played merely by a string of slaps on the nearby table. He so fucking hoped that he remembered Dan the next morning, because he did NOT want to have to go back to lame-o Adrian after this stunning rendition of drunken Journey.

[DAN OWENS]

Dan was seriously at a loss as to how the hell he'd managed to make it though three years of college without befriending this kid. He was beyond fantastic. Then again, he could very well have met him and become friends at every other dorm party he'd ever been to and just not remembered shit about it come morning...yeah, that was probably more likely. It seemed almost impossible that his drunk self would be able to miss a beacon of fun so delightfully wasted as Scott. And even if he had missed him before, he'd found him now, and God only knew how many more times they would find each other again. Hopefully many, because in all honesty Dan didn't think another party would every be the same without Scottay, as he'd now dubbed him. He would remember him. There really wasn't any question about it at this point; hungover as hell and no matter how blacked out he got after tonight, there would be no forgetting Scott here. It had been far too long since he'd found himself a proper drinking buddy. And really, life just wasn't worth living without one.

Never had a more beautiful rendition of Don't Stop Believin' been given. Except of course for the original, but as there was never any comparison worth making towards that level of majesty, Dan found it irrelevant. He continued to air guitar along with Scottay's newfound drum skills, indescribably pleased to have found someone with half as much drunken musical talent as he had. It was a miracle. Divine intervention, probably. And this party was soooo worth missing out on that one chick's birthday he'd been invited to for tonight. Red Loster had nothing on Journey, man. No fucking way.

Right, now was time to break out the big guns. Best fucking chorus of all time, and Dan was not about to mess it up. Still air-guitaring it up as best he could while singing, Dan gave what he very much believed to be his best performance ever, even including that one time he'd imitated Tom Cruise's Risky Business routine to a tee. And that had been a pretty fuckingtastic imitation, according to all who'd remembered and filmed it. "STRANGERS WAITING, UP AND DOWN THE BOULEVARD. THEIR SHADOWS SEARCHING IN THE NI-I-GHT," operating, as always, under the firm belief that one could not back out halfway through the chorus of this particular song, Dan continued on mercilessly in his quest to tear up the this song as it had never been torn up before. "STREETLIGHT. PEOPLE. LIVING JUST TO FIND EMOTION. HIDING SOMEWHERE IN THE NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGGGHHT!" So maybe his voice cracked a little bit. Whatever. He was having far too much fun to care about the little, insignificant things like pitch.

[SCOTT PARKER]

Honestly, Scott had no idea why he didn't sing more often. This was pretty fucking fantastic, and he was in such a good mood, though that was probably more the effect of the alcohol than the wondrous melody he was belting out in quite a lovely, shout-y fashion in a last ditch effort to hear himself over the blasting music. Seriously, he was pretty sure the last time he had actually sung something outside of the shower was like...back in the fucking church choir, and that was TOTALLY different from this wonderful duet. He was pretty sure singing the best song he'd ever heard with someone he'd just re-met totally trumped singing Jesus-flavored praise or worse, Latin, with all those bigots back home.

Coming to the chorus, Scott shouted as loud as he could, sort of, well, he didn't know how to describe it, or even particularly why it was happening, but like, twitching (He guessed that could be called dancing, right?) to the beat. It seemed... well, at the time it seemed like the right thing to do.

"STRANGERS," Twitch. "WAITING," Twitch. " UP AND DOWN THE BOULEVARD. THEIR SHADOWS SEARCHING IN THE NI-I-GHT!" Well, suffice it to say that he was quite pleased with his new spastic form of dance. It was quite wild and crazy and surely looked retarded to any onlooker, a combination which made it the perfect one to whip out at a party for any occasion.

"STREETLIGHT," Twitch. Damn, he was really getting the hang of this now!" PEOPLE." Spasm. " LIVING JUST TO FIND- SHI-" Unfortunately, the last part of that line was not part of Scott's stunning personal remix to the song. It was less of a graceful note in the song and much more of an involuntary interjection emitted as he fell backward, crashing into the beer table. As the damned thing tipped back with him and the contents of a dozen drinks and a freaking half a kegs worth of beer splashed onto the floor and onto Scott, his only regret was that he hadn't gotten to finish the damn chorus.

[DAN OWENS]

Having closed his eyes in order to fully bask in the moment, Dan didn't exactly notice Scottie's new dance moves for a good half minute or so. Which was beyond upsetting, because they were fucking BRILLIANT. Frozen in shock at the glory of his newfound drinking buddy's moves, Dan laughed; not at Scottie, of course, but at how fantastic this all felt.

As he held the most epic note of all time, Dan couldn't resist stealing a look in Scottay's direction. What he found was not the look of praise or admiration he'd been expecting, however, but a scene that was bordering dangerously close to disaster. Or fun. When he was this drunk, Dan usually counted them as the same thing.

"WOOAAHH, SCOTTAY!" he cried in amazement, having not yet lowered his voice from its singing level. It was impossible to control his laughter for the next half minute or so as he doubled over, clutching the sudden stich in his side and splashing more beer onto Scott. He straightened up soon enough. "MAN DOWN! MAN DOWN!" hands cupped around his mouth as he yelled, Dan's voice carried only slightly until it was lost in the general din of the party.

Wait...wait a second...if Scott just spilled all the beer...how the hell was he supposed to get any goddamn refills? For a moment he was frozen. Torn quite brutally between beating Scott for his stupidity and congratulating him on inventing this new form of entertainment, it was after a moment's hesitation that he swayed a bit closer towards the pool of alcohol where Scott was now seated. "C'mere" he slurred, still loudly, although not on quite the same level as before, extending his hand for assistance. How much help he could possibly be when having to concentrate so hard on standing himself, however, was debatable.

[SCOTT PARKER]

Frankly, Scott wasn't even embarrassed or guilty for knockin over the booze for the rest of the party. Those fuckers could suck it up off the floor if they were really that desperate to even more hammered, or they could lick it off of him. Hell, he didn't realy care if they did that. He could start a new drinking game. What he WAS bothered about, however, was the fact that he had missed the most amazing part of the song, and now he couldn't exactly continue dancing and singing along to the greatest song in the entire world if he was flopping around like a fish on the ground. It was rather disappointing, to be honest.

Struggling, he did his best to sit up, surprised at exactly how slippery an actual pool of booze could be. He felt like he was on a gigantic slip 'n' slide. Luckily, it seemed that most people were continuing on with their partying experience, and paying no heed to the massive idiot that managed to collapse the beer table. Well, everybody save Dan, that is, and Scott was pleasantly surprised to see that the guy he had just re-met a few minutes ago seemed to be sticking around instead of heading for the hills after seeing Scott's little dancing mishap.

Still, if Dan the party man decided to stick around with Scott even whil he was wallowing around in the small pool of booze, then why on Earth should Scott bother getting up? It was much more fun being on the floor, and once ou were already down it totally limited the chances of getting so drunk that you fell down on your ass. Yeah....now that Scott was able to experience it firthand, he could see that the floor was the place to be. It totally beat the spastic dancing that you could do while standing up, and it was so totally relaxing. He just had to lie there, like a crocodile basking in the sun.

Taking Dan's hand, he pulled down hard, attempting to get his new found friend to come toppling to the ground and join him in his newly discovered best place ever to spend a party. He needed some company down there. If ONE person spent a party lying on the floor, people thought he was a crazy fuck, or knocked out, or deadm but if TWO people were on the ground, people would think it was cool.

"SO, Dan, my party animal," Scott asked of his newly grounded buddy. "Tell me about yourself. What brings you to the party? Any particular reason you couldn't throw your own awesome, super terrific, fantastically alcoholic party?"

Scott kicked back and folded his arms behind his head, lying in an entire pool of alcohol which no one seemed in any hurry to clean up. This was good.

[DAN OWENS]

There was no use crying over spilled booze. Or bitching over it, for that matter. No, Dan was going to take this sudden, all-too-apparent lack of a refill as nothing. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to get upset over, that was for sure. Lord knew he was already wasten enough to wake up tomorrow with a headache the size of Texas and Alaska combined. And besides, Scottie did look fuckin' hilarous. Flopping around the way he was, Dan could've sworn he'd died and gone to heaven, only to realize they served beer there, too. Maybe it tasted better when it was on the floor...?

Resisting the urge to bend over and test that theory, Dan instead focused his efforts on standing upright. How the hell was he supposed to pull Scottay up and back to the land of the living if he couldn't keep to two feet himself? In truth, he was failing miserably. If it was possible to stumble while standing still, Dan was quickly becoming a new master at the art. He concentrated hard on the two Scotts swimming--almost literally--before him, trying to discover which was the imposter. The result was an awful lot of moving his arm back and forth in midair.

But then...Success! The grin on Dan's face was short lived, for the instant he felt his hand grasp hold of what could only be Scottie, he instantly felt himself fall forward. And thank Jesus he tripped on the way down (there was a grace to the stumble, almost akin to a baby sea lion, which only a truly wasted man could ever have accomplished), or he would've smacked his nose right into the dorm floor. Instead, he rolled over, nose fully intact, and onto his back. So this was what Paradise felt like.

Dan was halfway through working out how exactly to thank Scott for inviting him to share in what was clearly the best party hangout ever when he was interrupted by none other than Scottay himself. "Well Scottay, if yawanna hear the truth," he paused in order to mimic the movements of his buddy, hardly caring that his shirt would probably smell like beer for the rest of its existance. Most of his clothes did. "What doesn't bring someen to a party like this?" he gesutred about in what he deemed to be a grand manner. "I mean, I'm havin a fun time. Are YOU havin a fun time, Scottay? Ye jus' can't keep up parties like this all the time, yaknow? Not like they used to be."

Shaking his head with a dramatic sigh, Dan paused for a moment before continuing rather bitterly. "Ohyeah, 'n my rommate's a dick." Having completely given himself over to the belief that every drunk man spoke the Wasted language, Dan continued without a moment's thought as to whether or not Scott had comprehended a single word to leave his lips, "'Nuff 'bout me, though. Why're you here, and at this particular establishment?" The intense stare he gave might have had more effect were it not for the slightly glazed-over look in Dan's eyes.

[SCOTT PARKER]

Scott kinda felt like he was a little kid again, as he laid there loking up at the stained and grody ceiling. It was like he as 9, lying out o the ground under the stars with the rest of the Boy Scouts. Back then he had been the only one to actually lie down on his sleeping bed as the sun sank behind the mountains and the stars slowly blinked into sight. Everyone else would still be running around, chaotic, but he would be on an island of clarity, looking up into the profound wisdom of the cosmos and seeing the intricate designs laid out before him in the way the stars dipped and wove themselves in such elegant beauty. Here, on the floor of some dude he couldn't remember's dorm room, with beer spilled all over him and a party still rocking the foundation of the building all around him, it was kind of the same thing, wasn't it? Only this time.... This time he had a partner in the whole thing. Someone who had decided that standing up and dancing around like a lunatic was for squares.

Scott nodded in vague agreement. God, parties were just not what they used to be. It was insanity. This was the first actually good one he had gotten to in a while. All the others just seemed to pale in comparison to this raging beer bash, and even THEN, there was clearly no comparison to the wondrous events Dan threw in the past. It was a pity that they had to put up with this nonsense. They should....they should be rioting in the streets! They should be picketing the sucky partiers! They should start a union of truly dedicated party animals who would vow to only go to parties if they were actually fucking amazing, instead of some of the other crap that had been going on lately. They neded to show the world that this was simply NOT acceptable. It was... It was ...

"Well, you know how it is, my dear Dan. I try to make it a point to show up at any party that appears on my radar. You never know when something amazing is gonna' happen, and I for one have no intention of missing an epic party because I just didn't feel like going out a certain night."

Shooting Dan a glance, Scott realized that Dan was usually a shortened nickname for something else. "Say....is Dan short for something? Like....Daniel? Or.... Danimal? Or.... I dunno... Dantastic?" Scott couldn't help but drunkenly laugh at his own wit for coming up with the last one. DAMN he was a funny guy. Really, people ought to fawn over him and his awesomeness more often. Cleo and Adrian and Sadie were missing out when they decided to let him go out partying by himself. But whatever, that was what Dan was for. HE would appreciate Scottie's jokes for the totally awesome awesomeness that they truly were.

[DAN OWENS]

This was fucking fantastic. Dan seriously didn't know what he'd been thinking, dancing at parties and shit when there were always so many puddles of beer to be found. It was insanity, really, to be on your feet drinking booze when you could be on the ground bathing in it. Scottie was a genius; that was the only explination for it. And where the hell had he been all of Dan's life, honestly? It took brains and balls to be able to defy party norms like this and do whatever the hell you wanted to do because you were wasted and you could. And Scottie, well, he was obviously a master. Had it not beed for the fact that they were lying down, Dan had no doubt in his mind that he would've given his newfound friend a good, hearty pat on the back for his obnoxious display of intelligence.

....And he was growing more and more likeable by the second. Dan couldn't believe the words of wisdom this kid was spewing; it was like..like he was one of those angels come down from Heaven to sing and tell everyone where they needed to go to do things right. Or no. Maybe not. Not at all, actually. Scott was clearly just blessed with the inability to resist the urge to party, and Dan more than respected that. He admired it.

"Amen, Scottie, A-MEN!" Dan gave one loud clap to further show his appreciation for Scott's words. "I donno how people do it. Ya know...stay isside. There's nothin' ta do without the parties. Just..." he shrugged and sighed. " 'S not worth it, withou' the epic parties, ya know?" And by "it," Dan felt it was all too obvious he meant "life."

For a moment, Dan paled. For a split second, he felt...sober. And peeved. Then the feeling was gone, and he was roaring with laughter at Scott's incredible wit and grinning at the possibilites for his full name; all while thanking the Lord he'd used this lie enough times to be able to spew it while completely sloshed without so much as blinking twice. "That'd be the last one, Scottie meh boy. 'Dantastic Owens', greatest partier this side uh....well, of anywhere!" he laughed again, suddenly feeling this was absolutely true. Raising his hand in an imaginary toast, Dan looked to Scott with another drunken stare, and slurred, "Teh Dantastic 'n his partner 'ncrime, Scottay! Bringin' life teh parties EVERYWHERE!" with that, he drained his imaginary class of alcohol before letting his hand slap down into the real pool of it, smacking his lips approvingly.

[SCOTT PARKER]

Frankly, Scott didn't care that the room was spinning and his thoughts were beginning to turn into a series of discombobulated slushy - well, he didn't actually know what. That thought right there had gotten away from him. Anyway, he totally didn't care about that. The best place in the world for him was lying there, in the puddle of alcohol as everyone else danced and twisted and twitched up above him. There was something oddly serene about the situation. It was like he and Dan (Dantastic/Danimal/Dan the party king) were the only two people in the world, and they were just lying there as the world revolved and carried on all around them but they were detached from it all. Separate from the rest of the world and its problems and its need to run fast and ignore all the small, perfect moments such as this.

For a moment he just closed his eyes. He wanted to abslolutely soak this moment in and just absorb that feeling. Sure, he wouldn't remember the circumstances come morning, but he wondered if he tried REALLY hard to store that feeling of pure, unadulterated bliss then maybe, JUST MAYBE, it could last past the boozey blackout. He could only hope that somewhere, in the banks of his memory, there would be a file somewhere that retained the delicious smell of beer covering every inch of him, and it would remember that pulsing beat that thumped through him as people's feet came crashin down all around him. God, he didn't want this night to end. It was perfection.

The playful splash of the beer hitting him from Dan's emphatic slap of the palm brought Scott back to the moment. No time to reminisce now.

"You know, Mr. Dantastic, I always DID want to be a super hero..." Scott rolled over onto his side so he could get a good look at his partner in crime. Woah.... had his eyes always been so - nope. He wouldn't think about that. Other things were on the table at the moment, and besides, no matter how deep and soulful and entrancing his eyes were, Scott should have learned by now that those eyes would never want him. Right. Ignore the eyes. It was probably just the beer goggles talking anyway. He couldn't think of this awesome guy like that! "We could be like some kind of super awesome, superpowered partyin' pair. We could teach these m'rons a thing or two about parties are REALLY supposed to be held, amirite?" He laughed that drunken guffaw that came so naturally to him.

[DAN OWENS]

"A soopero, huh?" Dan raised his brow slightly as he flopped over to look Scottie dead in the eyes. This was a very serious matter they were discussing, after all, the potential to become the greatest dynamic duo Barrie University--or quite possibly New York, as Spider Man had always been a bit of a loner--had ever seen. And what better person to begin the Booze Brigade with than Mr. Scottay, who he felt had just taught him one of life's most important lessons mere minutes before? Parties flew by pretty fast. If you didn't stop and soak in the booze once in a while, you might miss them. Sure, it had as sort of familiar ring to it, but Dan was fairly certain he could give Scottie all the credit for this one. The guy was fucking brilliant. Why hadn't they partied together before?

"We' ya know, with grea' power comes grea' resplons--reponser-- reper--We gotta be sure tah share our partyin' ways, alight?" he nodded gravely, clapping Scott once on the shoulder. " 'R else 's not fair ta haverm at all. We gotta--we gotta sprea' the word, sota speak," he added with a drunken flourish of his handm, that looked a bit more like a dying fish.

Just then, Dan sat up quickly. Or, well, as quickly as on as intoxicated as he could possibly right himself. He slapped both palms down in the puddle once more, beckoning for Scottie to come nearer for his next bit of guru-style knowledge. "See, the thing ya gotta know 'bout a good parre, Scottay, is this:" he began, smacking his lips for dramatic effect as he draped an arm around his partner-in-crime's shoulder, moving his index finger in little circles his intoxicated mind evidentally found to be quite enlightening. "The bessway ta have 'em, 's teh...Partyin' issn't something tha' can be taught, perssay. 'S a skill ya comebout nattrally. Ya gotta learn as ya go 'long...." yes, yes that would do. Dan gave Scott another thump on te back as he withdrew his arm from around him, slapping the pool of beer as he did so. Shit, he had to have one of these at the next party he threw.