The Consequence of Luminous Friday

Consequence is like a gay prison cell mate, you don’t want to believe it will come, but sooner or later, he’s going to fuck you in the ass.

When we got past laughing about the Luminous Friday story the day after, which included filling in blanks about what happened and who did what, never did I imagine that the story hadn’t ended with a punctuation.

I did however come to realize how RotiPrata came to have a whole massive roll of toilet paper that would have been enough to wipe every ass in China, in his possession.

To put it simply, alcohol is a vortex of all logical behaviour. Call it an emancipation of rage or surrender of basic motor skills, but it all began when he started having difficulty pulling the paper hand towels, he lost patience and decided the best way was to kick open the contraption and take it altogether.

Then of course, Monday came and it was always a day we would recount the weekend over a morning cigarette and allow consequence to catch up to us, or in most case, deny all of it.

We knew Friday was a carnage of sorts; intemperance of alcohol, school boy misdemeanor, kleptomaniac disclosures and the list runs on, all we needed was an axe murderer and we would have made Fox River Prison look like a kindergarten.

What we didn’t know, was the repercussion of our actions.

First it was a complaint that LB had ruined the pool table’s felt cloth by staining it. This was in addition to him also breaking a cue in what he now refers to as ‘The Longest Pool Game Ever’.

Sure, there were giggles and grins under the guise of condemnation and scorn of his actions. And most definitely, the cost of replacing the felt cloth did send a wave of severity through our cranial receptors, but if there were cause of worry for LB, we lost it somewhere after he tore our shirts.

Then evening came with a phone call. A rude awakening. It was like receiving a voice mail from consequence and it would have sounded like, ‘Haha...”. In reality, it sounded like this,

“I don’t know what you muthafuckers did, but your faces are all over the video. And who the fuck broke that paper shit in the toilet?!”

Well apparently, our whole debacle was caught on CCTV. The main star of it being me and my little stunt by the bench, right down to talking to the stone dog. Oh, but I wasn’t alone.

RotiPrata had to top it off by apparently –and I say apparently because we don’t see how that is possible – being caught kicking down the paper hand towel holder and running off with it.

If you actually knew who I was, or what I do, then you’d probably figure out why this is a HUGE problem. So huge, there isn’t even a font size worthy enough to write it in.

RotiPrata: “What the fuck are we going to do now?”

Me: “How the fuck should I know? Apologise? Fix the bloody hand towel disposer? Do you think thinner is good for getting marker stains out?”

Then after a full evening contemplating what reaction to this would be, which probably included fleeing the country, full cosmetic surgery and blaming alcohol amongst other things, we decided to leave matters to fate.

I met LB and Reznor an hour later.

Me: “You muthafucker, you ruined a pool table.”
LB: “I told you all not to ask me to drink already. You see! This is what happens when I drink you fucker!”
Me: “Ahh, fuck you. Yours isn’t even close to what happened to RotiPrata and me.”

LB: “Huh? What happened?”
Me: “Remember our debacle?”
LB: “Ya..”
Me: “We got caught on CCTV…”

There was a long pregnant silence. His face was priceless. Then,

LB: “HAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!”

The great thing was that things took a turn for the better and it all came down to Sunday afternoon champagne brunch that burnt a hole in the wallet to mitigate matters.

LB was so tickled by the fact that the brunch was angled almost like it was a punishment that he spent the days leading up to it in perpetual stitches every time we mentioned it.

Then Sunday came, and it was exactly as how I had imagined it to be; good food and a race to clear out as many bottles of Champagne as we could. It just got so out of hand with ferocious cheers one after another that I had to do what all responsible men would do.

I ran to the toilet to induce puke and I can because I am that awesome. It was also weird because I had so much meat for lunch, it was like I was puking meatballs.

Then 18 bottles of Champagne later, LB was so drunk, he - and I will go about this like a checklist – accomplished it all in one afternoon.

a. Bite someone x 3

b. Volunteered to have his chest hair plucked

c. Threw a glass of water at RotiPrata

d. Threw a full bucket of ice and water at RotiPrata

e. Wrestled to the ground

f. Volunteered to pay for a group hair wash

g. Concussed in the backseat of the car

h. Paid $210 for our hair wash

Don’t you just love alcohol?