With our faith restored in our beer supply, the drinking games began. The Doubles Caps tournament was scheduled to go first, and the Doubles Beirut (laymen may know this game as Beer Pong) was to take place simultaneously, with all participants not currently involved in the games encouraged to work on their video game and Yahtzee scores. Caps was played to 11, winning by 2 a point margin, with each team drinking 1/2 a beer when a point is scored against them. This can be divided however the team deems best: either by splitting the 1/2 beer, or alternating halves on each point. Beirut was played with 15 half-filled cups on each side.
Note: beer consumed during drinking games DO NOT count towards one's social beer points.
I was drawn to be partnered in Caps with Breen and with Batman Johnson for Beirut --lucky pulls in both counts. Breen and I came back from a 10-4 defecit to a 13-10 win the first round and enter the semifinals. Our opponents ate their mockings with a humble humble spoon, and a nice chaser of sweet, non-point beer. While waiting for our turn in the semis, I adjourned to the living room to work on my Space Invaders scores, only to find myself with an audience soon thereafter. Judging from the looks on my friends' faces, there had been some unpleasantness at the start of the Beirut tournament. The participants were generally unhappy with the rule that we were to leave the empty cups on the table, and if an opponent were to sink in one of your empty cups, you would have to drink one of your beers. But the specific upset in this case came from Turkey and Jenn objecting to some of the late-arriving, non-official-AGW-participating guests playing Beirut . Jenn and Turkey felt it was unfair that they be pitted against a team that had 10 more hours of sobriety to their advantage. I was happy to be in the other room while this went down, and even more happy that I was merely the secondary judge. The commotion carried on well into the Caps finals, where Breen and I were playing against Keg and Liza for third place (now that I think about it, I'm not sure why we were only fighting for third place, seeing as we hadn't lost yet and don't know how first and second were decided, but I guess that doesn't matter now). Jenn and Turkey made a final plea to have me hear their side and judge in their favor, but I demured to Jennlynn's primary wisdom, and that was the last I heard of the unpleasantness for a few hours.
As a result of the Beirut disruption, paired with the fact that it was nearly 2am and those of us who had started on time were working on our 14th straight hour of drinking, the group began to thin. Many of the non-participating party attendees had left, many of the participating players had passed out. The Beirut brackets had to be nearly redrawn, and there was a bit of a debate as to whether or not players who had participated in the initial Beirut game would qualify for their beer points (the Saunders Exception of the AGW rules stipulated that non participation in the Beirut tournament would result in a forfiet of social beer points). It was decided that those who played in the first Beirut game but passed out or otherwise went to bed as a result of the unpleasantness would still qualify for beer points. The rest of us played on.
Keg and Liza had brought a queen size blow up Aerobed with them for the weekend. During breakfast on Saturday, Liza pleaded with Keg wide-eyed to get him to set up the bed so that they would have it ready when they wanted to go to sleep and wouldn't have to worry about it. Keg, the good boyfriend that he is, made the bed for Liza and himself before most of the gaming even began. Liza did not hold up well in the face of beer points. I'm sure some of the "come hither" photographs she and I were posing for that afternoon are a testament to that. What my excuse is, I'm not sure. She swears now that next year she won't do any social drinking until *after* the drinking games, since she was barely able to participate in the Caps tournament after 10 hours of social beers. Keg, the good boyfriend that he is, volunteered to drink all of the beer for their Caps game for her. Liza voluntarily sacrificed her beer points before the first attempted Beirut tournament and went upstairs to their already-made Aerobed.
Since Batman and I hadn't played int he first round of Beirut , we remained partners for the second. Perhaps our momentum was shot. Perhaps we were too drunk. All I know is that neither of us played as well as we normally do, and were growing increasingly more frustrated with ourselves. During the first game, Niner was busy cleaning up his kitchen from the Caps tournament carnage, Chozi and Batman were playing Connect Four again, and Keg went up to go check on Liza. When he got back downstairs, he had a look on his face as if he had just seen a car accident. "guys. The Robinsons are in our bed. Liza said they were there when she got upstairs. She's in the twin bed. I don't know where I'm sleeping."
Batman and I finished our game and I went back to the couch where Mickey had gone to wait for the unpleasantness to subside and consequently fallen asleep. I woke him up and asked if he wanted to go to bed, and he demanded to know what had happened to the "brwmrshes". I told him I wasn't sure what he was talking about, "you know, the brwmrwhses! THE CANDY! WHAT HAPPENED TO THE CANDY!" I assured him that the candy was long gone and he plodded upstairs to our bed. I returned to the Beirut arena and announced to the remaining players, "I got Mickey to get up off the couch and go upstairs. I wanted to make sure no one robinsoned our bed."
rob•in•son v. 1. to spend an excessively long time during one's turn during gameplay. 2. to delay a game by proposing preposterous moves or otherwise redundant situations 3. to unapologetically sleep in a bed that you know is not yours.
The Beirut tournament ended with one of the teams coming out on top. I know it wasn't me and Batman, that's for sure, but we did get either 3rd or 4th place. I knew I was supposed to be tired, but I still had a goodly amount of steam left in me. I was talked into playing in the Warlords tournament, 13 hours late as it was, and didn't do too well. But hey, that's 100 more participation points on my sheet. After I got knocked out of the first round, I went into the kitchen to snack on one of those gorgeous New York bagels Keg and Liza brought down. There was a lull in the game and Keg came into the kitchen to talk to me. He laid his score sheet on the counter and then item by item, explained to me how he was systematically fucked in every event and why. By 4am, the Warlords game was coming to a close, so after I finished my bagel I went upstairs to bed.
I woke up a few times throughout the short sleeping period of Saturday night. I also kept having strange dreams like the one where I was playing Caps against Batman but was using Connect Four checkers instead and shot one straight into his eye, which he was able to dislodge with a few shakes of his head. I got out of bed at around ten, and went to join the commotion downstairs. The Robinsons had left early, after explaining they took Keg and Liza's bed because someone (ahem, Breen) put their bags in the bathroom, and couldn't understand why Keg and Liza didn't think it was all that funny. The two local guys who came later in the day were gone too, one of whom was doing a 10K run that day and almost overlsept had it not been for someone (ahem, Robinson) vomiting at 6am and waking him up. While I was making a fresh pot of coffee, Keg walks right up to me, tosses his hands in the air and blurts, "I'm still loaded."
I was filled in that after I went to bed, some of the guys stayed up and decided to play caps again. Keg apparently gave the guys permission to slap him if he started to pass out on himself, and at one point during the game mumbled, "guys. I'm not gonna lie to you. I can't see that cup all too good right now," but ever the risk taker, Keg offered to the other guys that he was willing to chug an entire beer if he missed his next shot. Gamer decided this was unfair, so he said that *he* was willing to chug two beers if Keg made the next shot. Roumor has it that Chozi also wagered he would lick Robinson's manbreasts if Keg made the shot too. Whaddya know, Keg nailed the cap. Gamer chugged two beers. Chozi refused to lick Robinson's tits.
People were moving far more slowly than we had scheduled on Sunday. Gamer and Jenn didn't wake up until well after 11:30. Jennlynn was working on the score tallying that was supposed to have happened the night before, and damned if she wasn't using a spreadsheet. I came to learn that there was another casualty of the Beirut Unpleasantness: Turkey tore up his score sheet in a fit of rage. Total points awarded: zero.
I came in seventh out of 14. Not bad, but not that good either. I never did record points for Space Invaders or Ms. Pac Man, but had a good beer point total, and got a few nice placings in a few games. Batman Johnson took first place, Gamer second, Breen third. Everyone was too hung over to commit to Risk on Sunday afternoon, and Keg in particular had to get on the road FAST before he crashed; Liza, a born and bred Manhattanite does not nor has she ever known how to drive a car. Keg's two hour trip back to New York was reminiscent of Raul Duke racing to get back to Los Angeles before his binge came back to bite him: Keg knew he had a very small window before he crashed and crashed hard.
As much lethargy as there was floating around the Niner's house on Sunday morning, my persistence and devotion to a diner trip paid off. I was so hungry I thought I was going to barf on myself, but finally FINALLY by 2:00 we were at the Blue Bell Diner. I gorged on eggs, bacon, and home fries, and took all charitable cole slaw donations that were coming my way.
Mick and I left for home straight from the diner, but didn't go straight home. I'm sure you didn't think we were going to let those Delaware slots pass us by completely now, did you?