You gotta fight for your right to party

Hey homies, merry fucking New Year to everybody. Sorry I ain't been around much recently, I know it must be hard to have to go so long without hearing my sexy voice through the monitor-text. But it seems that either the shit's hitting the fan or we're Just sitting back and watching paint dry, there is no in-between. What are you gonna do?

So it's 2012 now. End of the world's comin' and all the bullshit. Sweet, as long as it's awesome, I can get behind that. But anyway. I was invited to a New Year's Eve party hosted by what's his name, that Writer dude. I think. To be honest, it wasn't nearly as much fun as I had hoped. I learned something this weekend. Many of my coworkers are unpleasant people. Especially the new Morningstar, he's a real jackass. Much less classy than the original. Most of his squad too. That fucking clown especially is a real bitch. Not everybody was bad though. Nightscream was a great dude; together we got that party started right. And while I didn't have a chance to talk to 'em much, David and Rachael seemed to be thoroughly respectable folks.

Well, we might as well get on with what actually went down. I arrived a bit late, and as such there wasn't really much going on when I arrived. Can't have a party without the R-Man, you know. I think they just didn't know how to do shit right, it looked like tensions were high, but nobody was bleeding yet. So I decided to help get the ball rolling. After retrieving a bottle of the finest something-alcoholic-it-doesn't-really-matter from behind the bar, I went over and gave my good buddy Morningstar a hug. He looked like he needed one. Considering I was only trying to be nice, he was very rude and told me to go fuck myself with a chainsaw. Or something to that effect.

I decided to leave the asshole to his brooding and find somebody with whom I could have a decent chat without them getting their panties all in a bunch. I found a rather well-dressed fellow who turned out to be my good buddy Nightscream. He- err... she? It? was uh, very nice, very nice. A model Slendercorp employee, one whose behavior all should attempt to emulate. It was around here that Newstar started getting all pissy when Screamy (I really do need to think of something else to call 'em though) started making fun of how much of a pussified dick he is compared to his predecessor. Now this was what I had come to see, so naturally I made an attempt to help poke the bear. Also, David got tackled by a psychotic, tiny, Japanese schoolgirl. Or at least, that's what it looked like, so that's the story I'm going with.

Having finished my one bottle, I returned to the bar for another and took a seat. Morningstar then started getting all pissy about Rachael being invited to the party, complaining to that Joseph guy about it. Douche. I stole another bottle and sat next to Nightscream again. Valtiel and Joseph and Rachael were talking about something. I wasn't paying much attention to what exactly, but it was clear anyway that something was about to go down. Finally, damn. I began constructing an improvised incendiary device, you know, in case somebody needed a fire started. About here, Valtiel started burning Rachael and punched out Joseph's throat. Then David went over. Screamy thought it was time for shit to get interesting. I concurred.

Joseph and David (I think, maybe just one of them) did something weird to make Valtiel back off. Rachael pulled out a gun which she pointed at Newstar. Something weird happened and I'm really very confused as to what went down around this point. Nightscream disappeared somewhere, my incendiary device was gone (and sadly, didn't appear to have caught anything on fire), and I was fighting Gleeman. Fucking Joker-wannabe sprayed acid on me!! My trusty jacket blocked it of course, however this seems to have created a bit a er, problem. You see my jacket is very special. On the outside it may appear to be a simple leather jacket, but in reality, it is created with some of the same material as Tall Dark and Slender's suit. Or something similarly. Anyway, the bottom line is, my jacket possesses some odd dimensional features; the most useful of these being that the pockets are larger on the inside. Like a fucking TARDIS.

Anyway, I discovered that that shit really shouldn't be allowed to melt. It most especially won't be allowed to melt while you are still wearing it. Shit is now fused onto my arm it seems. It did not prevent me from winning my fight with Gleeman, however, as I successfully got a bullet or two in the fucker. He ignored them and continued fighting as if nothing had happened, but that is not the point. The point is, I fucking filled one of Newstar's minions full of holes! Mwhahahahahaha!!!1!1!!!1one!!!1

No, but I would've taken the fucker. If... something hadn't happened then that made all of our weapons disappear and shit. The barista did something. Or "Joseph" (I'm sorry, have I been doing that wrong all through here?). Didn't really catch it exactly, I was running at the time. Star's team wussed out then and left, as did Rachael. And really everyone that was still around was just going on about some shit or other, not really that interesting. So I decided to finish the night out with some light binge drinking. I awoke Monday morning on my mom's porch. Son of a bitch, that was certainly fun.

All in all, it was a damn good party. Though it could've been waaaay better. I'm going to suggest some improvements for next year. This year. Whatever.

So that's really it. Wanted to tell ya'll about the party, as I'm sure most of you out there didn't have time to party; what, with the Tall Guy being all on yo' asses and everything. But a happy new year to everyone. The Big Man is what brings us all together, and here's to many more joining our numbers in the new year. Cheers!

Stay frosty.