Challenge the Sixth: In Which West Is Hungover

I wanted to make this the best party ever, and when I looked out the window this morning I knew that the mansion’s backyard was way too big for just us contestants, the help, assorted hangers-on, and the lovely Sylar himself. No, to make this party truly epic, we needed a sea of bodies we wouldn’t mind seeing inebriated and brainless. I decided to pad out the guest list by inviting other reality show contestants.

I first landed next to a large, black RV and approached the girl standing outside. “NEXT!” she shouted.

“No, no. I’m not on this show; I want to win a date with Sylar. I’m just here to invite all of you to a party. I can guarantee free booze, and if you ask nicely maybe Sylar will let you borrow a few dresses.” I gave her the address to the party and flew off.

Then I landed in the astroturf courtyard of the Big Brother house and walked inside. “Party at the Sylar’s Bachelor mansion!” I called out.

“Dude,” one of the contestants said, “how did you get here? Besides, don’t you know that we lose if we leave the house?”

“Whatever,” I said, “just come to the party. No one watches your show anyway.”

I flew off to the Real World house and almost got my nose broke when I stepped into the middle of one of those fights that always seems to happen there. I think they were relieved to see me, because I gave them another excuse to get hammered and make out with each other. Then I visited the America’s Next Top Model contestants, and they agreed to skip out on Tyra Banks’s ego tripping to come to the party.

I was about to head back to the mansion to help set up for the party when I landed downtown for a refre

shing Slusho. “Excuse me,” a voice behind me said, “I’m GMing a superhero-themed GURPS RPG and I was wondering if you would help consult me on it.” I turned around. It was that geek girl from Beauty and the Geek.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” I said. I was never any good at tabletop RPGs. When playing Call of Cthulhu my character would always get killed because I would try and hug the shoggoths. What can I say? I love aliens. “Anyway, we’re having a party at the Sylar’s Bachelor mansion and you can invite all your beauty and geek friends.”

“Squee!” she said.

Satisfied that we had enough guests for the party, I picked up a few items that would make this party rock. First I stole a trampoline from someone’s backyard, because trampolines are the second-best places for hot, drunk girls (with hot tubs being the best, of course). Then I flew to Ibiza, where the club scene is the most raging in the world, and stole one of those foam cannons, because dancing in foam is also very sexy. Lastly, I called upon my beer-dispensing robot friend, PBR2-D2, to help serve beverages. We were finally ready to party.

Uh…It’s all kinda blurry after that. I mean, I remember talking to Mr. Bennet, and I remember one of the Real World contestants trying to steal Cyclops’s goggles then falling drunkenly on the edge of the trampoline and chipping his tooth. And I definitely remember drinking wine coolers in the hot tub with Sylar and drunkenly flirting with Adam, but after a few drinks things just started getting weird. It was like the foam cannon was spewing the shoggoths from Call of Cthulhu and I was transported to some weird dimension of sight and sound. Or something. Man, I’m thirsty. My head hurts, too.

Anyway, I woke up this morning in a pool of vomit, on a bearskin rug, in my swimsuit, along with the beauty guy, the geek girl, Traveler, and some blonde that I don’t think was on the guest list. Can anyone try explaining to me what just happened?