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It Seems This Orgy Is in Fact an Intervention

Alright, I’ve got this. I’m prepared. Rolling up to the regularly scheduled orgy with my clean STD test, 700 or so condoms, some Lubriderm just in case, snacks, hydration, and a Polaroid camera in case anyone wants to look super retro and cool while they’re getting slammed.

You know, as I’m walking in, I figured it would be a lot louder in here. Like the hosts would be blasting Nine Inch Nails or, appropriately, Orgy. And that there would be moaning and screaming and stuff. Instead it’s like, really quiet. Too quiet.

And hey, why the hell is my college roommate here? I haven’t seen him in years. He’s always texting me that he’s “super worried” about me, and that he can’t come to my 4th of July cookout because I “ruin parties.” It’s odd that he would travel all the way here just to get some sweet gangbang action. You’d think he could do that on his own side of town.

Okay, and my ex-girlfriend? What the fuck? Someone should have told me she’d be here, that’s bullshit. The last time we talked, she was crying and trying to flush all my benzos down the toilet. That was the last straw. Do you know how hard it is to get Xanax without a prescription these days?

Wait a minute. This is fucked up. My parents are here, sitting silently on the couch, fully-clothed like everyone else. I’m starting to think that this is not an orgy after all. Everyone keeps looking at me nervously and gesturing for me to sit down because we have to “have a serious conversation about my drug and alcohol abuse.”

I most certainly did not sign up for this garbage. I came here under the pretense that I would be doing sexy naked writhing with a bunch of hot girls and maybe the occasional overweight hairy guy like myself. I did not come here to get chastised by everyone from my past who has no idea how to party. Do they even realize what utter buzzkills they’re being?

You know what? I don’t have to deal with this. They can yell at me and block the door and threaten to 5150 me all they want, but at the end of the day, I’m more than happy to barrel through them all with no remorse because I did several huge lines of blow while driving here. There is zero empathy left in this swiss cheese brain of mine.

Time to go home and get fucking shitfaced!