Let's hear a good old fashioned(in your case really old fashioned) high school crazy party story.
Ah, very nice. It's funny because high school was probably the most boring four years of my life. I spent most of it either wrestling, sleeping, or kissing up to the athletes in my class in order to feel cool. But I digress...
I went to catholic high school overrun by spoiled, rich kids so not a lot of parties happened. However, during my senior year, there's one incident I'll never forget...
My best friend Chris was heavily into steroids (along with half the football players in my class). He and I were workout partners at the local Gold's Gym and worked out every single day. However, he grew at a much greater rate since the juice was loose in his body. But it didn't stop us from practically killing ourselves on a daily basis to excel in our sports... mine was wrestling (I was captain of the team) and his was football.
On a warm night in the Spring of my senior year, a few kids in class got their hands on a keg of beer (yes, only ONE keg... it was catholic school... only about 300 people in our entire class and only about 50 came to this party). They brought it to this wooded area in North Jersey and the classmates followed.
Since Chris always tried to stand out (and was very open about his steroid use), he decided to get his hands on a few "40's" so he could have his own booze. (This was around the time when gangsta rap was still kind of big.) He downed about three of them and was WAAAAASTED. Since I was the only person he would listen to without freaking out and roid raging, I asked him to hand over the bottle. He was completely blasted and couldn't drive (I already took his keys and stayed sober) and I needed him to be coherent when I brought him home. Playfully, he refused to hand it over.
A few of the football players saw this and tried to be all big and tough by physically taking the bottle from Chris... not too smart on their part. Chris immediately roid raged and began tossing football players left and right. At one point in time, it took four of them to hold Chris down. Finally, Chris calmed a bit and they let him up. He was so riled (and was trying so hard not to fight people) that he walked away in a rage and decided to punch the first thing he saw... Joe Menditto's car bumper. Chris's fist put a clear dent in the back of the bumper and Joe witnessed it, but he was so scared that he froze up and looked at me to help.
After laughing my ass off and shrugging to Joe, I talked Chris down and convinced him to get into his car. He was still roid raging and decided to start slamming his fists onto the passenger side dashboard of his '91 Oldsmobile Cutlass Clera II to the point where the entire dashboard collapsed onto Chris's lap. He then looked at me, I looked at him, and we both began to laugh our asses off. I drove off with him in the car and he passed out 5 minutes later. Then we arrived at his house, I practically carried him inside, and we went to sleep. To this day, he doesn't recall a thing.
