Party Animals

After midnight the doorbell rings again. The mansion is already packed but yet, Mr. Manson is expecting further guests.
Carrying a glass of Absinthe he cleaves through the filled living room towards the entry door.
The host is wearing his best black suit what matches the smoky-eye make-up and his dark red lips.
He has to smile slightly because he notices his guests are quite in a good mood.
Laughter and conversation, the comforting odor of incense sticks and also the smell of delicious food, alcohol and cigarettes. The party is in full swing and surprising peaceful.

A man with curled black hair nudges him by passing.
“Who d’you think might be this?”
Manson shrugs and a smirk eventually appears on his fine pale face.
“Perhaps it’s the whore I’ve called an hour ago.”
Acting cool Manson opened the door before he raises his brows pleasantly surprised.

Daisy pats his ex-bandmate chuckling.
“So Ginger Fish, I guess you’re the slut Marilyn ordered! This is goin’ to be interesting.”
The drummer shakes Daisy’s hand eagerly and bursts out laughing then.
“Hi Scott! Sorry, actually I’m not. I am just the supplier...”
Ginger points the blonde man casually played like a procurer.
“C’mon John, don’t be that shy.”
John 5 grins at Daisy although he seems to feel a bit uncomfortable now.
“Hi John, we met before, right? How are you?”
“Yeah, hello Scott. Fine, thanks.”
“It is his first Reunion Party.” Ginger is sounding slightly accusing.
John nudges him grumpy but before he can complain he suddenly is hugged from behind by Mr. Manson, who’s almost slopping his precious drink then.
“You - here, Johnny! I really should pillory you for rejecting my past invitations but you’re welcome anyway.”
“I… I…” The blonde one wants to tell that breathing becomes difficult by now.
“No apologies. Party hard!” Marilyn is patting him now smirking and leaves right after that.
“Well.” John utters dryly, looking around winking because it’s really gloomy in here. Just candles illuminate the room without seeming cheesy at all.
Still, he isn’t sure about agreeing on Ginger’s appeal to join this freak show. Of course he’s happy to meet old bandmates and buddies but there’s one person John had avoided successfully to date – and he feels certain having a reason for.

In the corner on a leather couch is sitting Pogo between Zim Zum and Tim Skold.
The ex-keyboardist used to say that he hates nobody more than Marilyn Manson but actually he is visiting the Reunion Party for the third time.
Tim had coaxed him to join the party because he knew that Marilyn would tolerate Pogo in his presence. It could be sort of therapy to get over the anger.
However, until now both ignored each other cold-blooded.
Maybe Pogo is missing his old friend in secret or he’s already planning an assassination – no one really knows. That’s why Tim is well prepared for trouble, he feels rather responsible for his wayward buddy.

“Pogs, we definitely have to do a project together.”
“We have this in mind for years, Zimmy.”
Currently Pogo is sipping at his fifth beer.
“Don’t le’me stop you!” The ex-guitarist sounds deridingly.
“I won’t raise a quarrel because you’re bored, idiot.”
“No hassle? Is it you, Pogo?”
The addressed one belches loudly, besides Tim looks away deliberately sighing.
“Skold is bored.” Zim is noticing casually and turns to Tim as if he wants to start a conversation with him. Yet, his counterpart is answering with a deadpan.
Zim turns to Pogo again, apparently Tim’s communication style is too much for him. The ex-keyboardist is shrugging.
The uncommunicative man squints at Pogo’s old friend rather annoyed. Surely by now it’s obvious that he isn’t really sympathetic to him.
“We have a deal. So, he isn’t allowed to slap bitches like you.”
The black haired man raises his brows sneering.
“Oh, really? Who’s to say that he’d slap me, Mr Wiseacre-Skold?”
“Oh well! If I were him I would, Mrs Emo.”
Pogo gets a bit nervous by now and begins to chew his fingernails.
“Better you get the Vodka, Zimmy.”
“What? I’m not his servant!”
“I’m asking you for Vodka, not for sucking Tim’s balls!”
Right now Zim Zum is pouting but he actually obeys.

Marilyn and Ginger are standing at the bar sipping their drinks in the meantime.
“You’re married by now. Congratulation.”
“She’s an angel, so beautiful. I’m really happy.”
Awkward pause. Then Manson chuckles briefly.
“Well, how did you convince Johnny? I know he’s no party animal…”
They are disturbed by someone now, who’s searching something special.

“Hey guys! I’m looking for Vodka.”
Marilyn squints at his old band mate distrustful but he is just grinning innocently.
“The asshole sends you to bring it. You’re not his servant.”
At once Zim’s eyes are darkening. “I know, I…”
“You don’t have to obey him.”
Zim’s growling. “Actually, I don’t. I only want to party, man.”
“Sure?”
“Manson! Just give it to me!”
Rather distrustful Manson reaches him the bottle slowly.

Andy Gerold is plopping down next to Pogo and Tim.
“Hi.”
“Who the hell is this?! I’m surprised ‘bout that phenomena every time: From where are those fucking doubles of you, Skold? ”
Tim gives Pogo a killing glance.
“Oh well, I’ll see where Zimmy is.”
Pogo hurries off.
A few seconds later Tim follows the lead and stands up silently. He really doesn’t want to talk to wannabe-doubles of himself.

In the meantime John is looking around, holding a glass of Coke. He is still tensed because he fears hitting on Tim soon.
For that matter, John is overreacting for sure but he feels rather uncomfortable to meet very probably the only guy again he had carried on with for years.
Suddenly he spots an old friend who’s sitting on a chair next to the flickering chimney. The black haired man with the prominent nose holds a bottle of Whiskey, chatting with someone John doesn’t recognize on the spot. He decides to join.

After a joyful welcome Twiggy reaches John the bottle, looking mischievous as always when he’s plotting something crackbrained.
“I do not drink. Still.”
Twiggy is snickering. “I know but I’ll never give up. You look kinda stressed – get more relaxed, man!”
“John, you’re definitely a pussy.”
The blonde is startling and turns around. Zim Zum grins at him, standing there swaying with an opened Vodka bottle.

A little later the situation is getting worse for John.
Twiggy and Zim forced him to drink Vodka and Whiskey. Of course just a little bit. They had poured both liquids into the Coke until the glass was almost filled.
“D’you see? It’s better than cleaning our armpits, plus Marilyn’s toilet with your tongue, right?” Twiggy’s giggling and nudges him chummily.
“You’re looking muuuuuch mooooooore relaxed by now!” Zim is squeaking resplendent.
John grimaces with disgust but for all that he actually seems to be less tensed. “I hate both of you…”
Twiggy squeals as Marilyn comes from behind surprisingly, dragging him up to kiss him impassioned.
Suddenly John feels really sick, so he is heading for the bathroom now. Zim catches up with him directly and grabs his arm.
“Le’me!” The blonde man tries to get rid of him.
“I only accompany you… ‘Cause you’re too relaxed by now to find the toilet.”

They’re abruptly hitting on Tim who leaves the bathroom right now. John freezes immediately.
“Look at that!” Tim starts smirking when he’s grabbing him by his shoulders joyfully.
“That’s not the right moment….”
“Shut up, emo boy! I’m not talking to you.”
Zim slams the door and locks himself noisy. Along the while, John becomes paler and paler.
“John? Everything ok?”
The wasted one shakes his head, pressing his lips together. It’s beginning to dawn on Tim what’s going to happen soon, so he pounds the door a little hectically.
“HEY! GET OUT! HE HAS TO PUKE!”
There is a muffling noise in the bathroom.
“That’s what I tried to…”
“SHUT UP AND GET OUT, FUCKING EMO!”
Tim is up to break the door open when Zim opens it all of a sudden. The raging blonde falls in and thuds on the floor as Zim Zum is drawing aside.
“This must be your dildo, Skold!”
He’s dropping something black next to Tim with an evil grin and disappears. The blonde grabs it immediately, trying to stand up now but he thuds again as John’s rushing towards the bath tub where he throws up finally.

Pogo heads the buffet where Ginger is taking some tidbits now.
“Hey Ginge. D’you know where Zim is?”
“A while ago I’ve seen him fleetingly. He’s rather drunk, huh?”
Pogo giggles while he’s taking a chicken leg. “Who isn’t? Even John is.”
He grabs the mustard and pauses. “Don’t look that dumb, man. Anti-alcoholics won’t survive in here… besides they get drunk. Hehe.”
Yet, Ginger is still perplexed.
Pogo shakes the mustard bottle a few times upward of the chicken leg when suddenly Twiggy comes around, watching Pogo’s futile attempts dumbly.
“Can I help you, dude?”
Without waiting the bassist hits the bottle once and the whole mustard splashes on the floor, also on Ginger’s feet. “Are you mad?! My new shoes!”
But Twiggy and Pogo don’t listen anymore because they’re already grabbing all sauce bottles with an evil grin.

A little later.
John is spitting out some chunks before he stands up groaning. He’s tottering to the basin then, slurping a lot of water. After that he feels a little bit better but still drunk. Tim left the room in the meantime but now he’s coming back.
He reaches him a chewing gum.
“Better?”
John nods a bit suspicious of Tim. Nevertheless he’s taking it.
The silence between them becomes curios after a while.
“Tim?...”
“Hmm?”
“Do you really have a… dildo?”
Tim tilts his head, slightly sneering at John.
“Sure but I won’t put it in your sweet ass.”
Now he’s lowering his voice. “In earnest. It’s because Pogo and –“

All of a sudden Ginger rushes into the bathroom screaming, followed by Pogo and Twiggy who uphold sauce bottles like weapons.
“CATCH HIM, SKOLD!”
With eyes wide open John is looking fully aghast at Tim and also at Pogo.
“Noooooo, not again! Please, NO!” Ginger screams still.
The mad ex-keyboardist is snickering in an evil way.
“I know you like to be sauced, dirty slut!”
Impatiently Twiggy jumps up and down chuckling.
In impulse the drummer of Rob Zombie is snapping up two shampoo bottles, aiming at the attacker directly.
“Who’s dirty, Donna? I think you need a shower, dickhead!”
Before Ginger starts to ‘shoot’, Tim’s grabs the wrist of the drunken guitarist, fleeing with him immediately.

“He Twiggs, look what I’ve found! A dildo! Is it yours?”
Twiggy defends himself against a shower of perfumed men shampoo with amounts of ketchup in the meantime. He’s gasping between joyful yells.
“That’s a taser, you fool!”

They are stopping at the patio, panting for fresh air. John looks rather desperate and his make-up is in a bad condition, too.
“Oh my, I want to go home...”
Tim is lighting a cigarette before he squints at the top guitarist.
“Why did you come then? To get drunk as fuck in just five minutes?”
John sighs helplessly while he’s resting his head against the cool wall what feels rather good.
“Of course not. Ginger persuades me…”
“Ooh, stop that. He’s not your daddy!”
The man with incredibly blue eyes smirks and nudges John boldfaced.
“Certainly you felt guilty when Ginge had told you that I’ve asked for you a few times.”
The guitar god rolls his eyes but actually he can’t hide a smile.
“Flirting is definitely your master discipline, I’ll give you that.”
With misty eyes the multitalented musician stubs out his cigarette. Black polished nails are blinking in the half-light.
“Guess what the chewing gum is good for.”
“You really wanna talk me around tonight?” John is smirking by now, too. It sounds like a question but he actually determined.
“I ever did, so far…”
Tim is tilting his head like minutes ago, fixing John’s dark eyes with an incredibly glance.
Only now John notices how sexy his ex-bandmate looks casually dressed. Anyway, Tim wasn’t dressed to kill tonight.
Right there is an unintended cut.

“Ssskoldd, there you are! I only wanted to ssay that the Vodka is – oh.”
Zim Zum stops in front of Tim and John who visibly came closer to each other.
He’s sneering at them unashamedly. “Cute. Can I watch?”
Especially Tim is not amused at all. So, he is searching eagerly for something in his trouser pocket but there isn’t the thing he wants to use so badly right now. He is pausing all of a sudden.
“Fuck!” Abruptly he is heading for the bathroom where the sauce-shampoo-fight is in full swing by now.

During Marilyn is chatting with Fred Sablan and Andy Gerold, sitting on the couch and consuming some white powder, he doesn’t know what his old friends are doing in the bathroom right now.
The bottles are finally empty and the room is in a pure mess already.
Ginger Fish is laughing hysterically because he’s full daubed by sauce while Pogo and Twiggy are looking like lube models.
“And now?” Pogo’s voice sounds rather disappointed.
With incredible presence of mind Twiggy spots the bath tub.
“We gonna start a foam party!”
“YAY!”
Both jump right into the tub cheering - not knowing that the content of John’s stomach is inside.
“Ugh, who was that?”
“So what! Let’s start the engine!”
Pogo is turning the tap on and places himself under the shower head. A lot of foam fills the tub immediately and flows over with fragments of puke.
After a few minutes Ginger doesn’t care any longer and joins them thrilled.
Pogo first tries to push him away but at last the foam is reaching his face and at once he loses orientation.
Twiggy throws foam balls crowing. “WHEEE! PARDY, PARDY, PARDY!!”

Right in this moment Tim pokes his head around the door to see where Pogo might be now.
At least he spots nothing but dirty foam everywhere and throwing hands.
John squints over his shoulder by now and startled, too.
“Fuck! Close the door!”
He turns to John, nodding eagerly. “Good idea!”
After they slammed the door, the blonde men want to leave without attracting attention but suddenly there’s a hawking.
Tim shrieks.
“Fuck, Marilyn!! Don’t scare me like that!”
The singer’s standing in front of them, pointing the door after he wiped away some white stuff from his nose.
“D’you know what’s going on in there?”
Awkward silence.
Suddenly John begins to giggle. This situation is too curios but besides he’d never heard Tim shrieking like a school girl.
Actually, he’s discovering the funny side of drunkenness unexpected.
By now Marilyn is noticing a familiar voice behind the closed door. His eyes darken instantly.
“Twiggy Ramirez!....”
As he opens the door, Tim decides to flee again, not without complaining about the circumstances.
“I’m only on the run here, that’s exhausting!”
John isn’t noticing anything yet because he rests his head against the wall, screaming with laughter.

* * *

The party is definitely over. The guests gone for a few hours.
Only five men are left. Three of them were forced by Marilyn to clean up the bathroom.
He’s standing in the door frame, watching Ginger and Twiggy who finishing touches yet.
At the same time Pogo goes up to Tim.

“Ey dude, I think you’re missing something.”
He pulls out the taser he found hours ago. Suddenly a grin appears on Tim’s tired face.
A long time he is sitting on the couch by now where John fell asleep. He had rested his head on his lap after he murmured that he has used the chewing gum probably in vain.
Maybe John noticed Tim’s hand running through his hair yet, but he definitely missed the naughty answer.
“Ah… yes, thanks Pogo.”
“One question, man: Wherefore you need a taser?”
Pogo’s wrinkling his nose while he crosses his arms suspiciously, waiting for an answer.
“Uhm, I’d packed that at every Reunion Party we visited together. In case Marilyn and you would fight.” He smiles slightly, watching his friend’s reaction observant.
Pogo only frowns and shrugs.
“Ok. I trust you, man.”
Then he’s squinting at Tim’s hand which still caresses John’s hair softly. He is sure that his friend can read his mind but with a huge smile Pogo decides to utter his thoughts.
“However, next year you’ll better pack some condoms.”