Party On, Garth

Episode Report Card
Demian: F | 9 USERS: B
Have A Drink On The Hardy Boys

Alas, the initial young gentleman's goddamned head remains firmly in place and the assembled twentysomethings here masquerading as teenagers giggle and snerk at each other until... a bottle smashes against the unfortunate Miss Greentree's supposed initials! DUN! Or not, as the case may be -- for as everyone involved quickly learns, the bottle was launched by Jailbait Monster Chow's slightly older and significantly less-attractive brother, Fugly Monster Chow, who now staggers drunkenly into the campsite clearing from points unknown. "What the hell, Trevor?" Jailbait Monster Chow yelps, supremely unamused. Jailbait Monster Chow then proceeds to reprimand his significantly less-attractive brother for driving drunk, after which Fugly Monster Chow slurs a few remarks that only serve to delay his inevitable and much-anticipated demise, until Fugly Monster Chow suddenly jerks his boozy head in the direction of the nearby undergrowth. "What was that?" he asks, sounding like he's about to barf. I fully understand the impulse, Fugly Monster Chow, but could you please keep this moving? Thanks. Jailbait Monster Chow, of course, has neither heard nor seen anything, but that doesn't stop Fugly Monster Chow from freaking the fuck out anyway, especially when something appears to move towards him from the bushes. "What the...?" Fugly Monster Chow begins before cutting himself short in favor of screaming, "You gotta run, man!" And with that, Fugly Monster Chow takes off down the dimly-lit dirt path that's passing for a road.

Presently, a strangled shout can be heard and while his companions wisely choose to remain huddled together around the campfire, foolish Jailbait Monster Chow races off down the dimly-lit dirt path with a flashlight until he eventually catches sight of his significantly less-attractive brother slumped against a tree. "Stop being a tool!" Jailbait Monster Chow calls out. "Let's head back," he continues as he wanders up to his significantly less-attractive brother's side, but I'm afraid Fugly Monster Chow won't be heading back anywhere tonight, for a mysterious something has clawed a gigantic hole in his stomach. Hooray! And as fluffy bits of the rapidly-cooling corpse's shredded down vest waft through the gentle nighttime breeze, both the horrified Jailbait Monster Chow and what remains of his significantly less-attractive brother vanish beneath the overwhelming onslaught of this evening's...

...SNOT ROCKET! Raoul The Big Gay Supernatural Dragon remains missing, and I'm afraid I have no update on the search for the dear, dizzy lizard, but thanks to a canny and wise suggestion from the lovely and talented Vaya on the forum boards, I'll be spending my Easter weekend papering the nail salons of Bay Ridge with the scaly little bastard's missing person poster. Why I didn't think of this before I'll never know, but thanks for the idea, Vaya! Though if I find out after all these months that he's been posing as a manicurist for whatever godawful and scatterbrained reason, I'll kill him myself.

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