The Hungover Games

- Hello? - Tracey, it's Bradley.

Bradley, where the hell are you guys?

- I am freaking out! - Listen.

We fucked up.

What are you talking about?

Me and Doug are about to get married and I haven't heard from him in two days.

Things got a little out of control last night and we...

We lost Doug.

The wedding is in a few hours!

- In Santa Barbara? - Yeah!

That's not gonna happen.

Look, I know everyone's a little miffed we couldn't do Vegas this year,

but I'm telling you, Chief Loose Slots is the next best thing.

I don't care where we have my bachelor party, guys.

All that matters is that we're celebrating together.

And that we don't have AIDS.

Anyway, I bet once you get inside, it's not so bad.

All right!

Hey, it's cute.

I am honestly impressed by how shitty this is.

You don't even need a blacklight to see all the stains.

Maybe that's yogurt.

Nah, it says right here in the pamphlet, it is semen.

Look, semen or no semen,

the important thing is that Doug

found his soulmate.

Thanks, man.

Tracey just completes in me, you know?

Did you say, "Completes in you"?

You know, that reminds of the love shared between Peeta and Katniss in The...

I'm gonna need you to stop talking about that book.

No, I will not stop talking about a novel

Have you even read it?

I'd love to, man. It's just hard to find time to enrol in 7th grade and cut off my nuts.

Well then, maybe I'll find it hard to find time to share my goodies.

Oh, nice. What do you got in there?

I've got all kinds of fun stuff.

I have Chernobyl potato vodka,

standard-issue roofies,

I've got Chinese black tar heroin,

I've got drug mule rectum-release opium,

and some plug-in air fresheners.

How did that get in here?

All right. You got any bath salts?

Tons. Help yourself.

I've also got skunk, skoof, skat, flippers,

flappers, floppers, uppers, downers,

and cyanide chewables.

Cyanide? Poison is the best.

Hey! Those are my fun-time candies!

No.

Every time we go out, we end up blacked out and looking for somebody.

Vegas. Thailand. My nephew Ruben's Bar Mitzvah.

Whatever, we got him back in time for the service.

Yeah, and then he puked all over the Torah.

- Classic. - No, not classic. That is a holy document.

All right, let's just get Zach dressed and head to the roof.

Dressed?

Small request, you guys. Could somebody scratch my nuts?

I respectfully decline.

- Non-alcoholic beer? - I told you. No risks tonight.

Pussy!

Excuse me, I was calling you a pussy.

All right.

Let's put our shitty rehab beers up

and toast Doug and Tracey.

I never thought your soulmate would have an Adam's apple and a penis,

but, hey, life's a journey, I guess.

We're happy for you, man.

Thanks, guys.

To Doug and Tracey.

- To Doug and Tracey. - And

to a night we'll never forget.

Those look really good.

Could you just pour it in my cone?

What the fuck?

Oh, God.

What?

Scuba guy on the ceiling. That makes sense.

Jesus!

- You stepped on my balls, dude. - Sorry.

Where the hell are we?

Fuck if I know.

All I know is I am hungover as shit right now.

I think I'm legally dead.

And my mouth tastes assy.

Please tell me I ate cheese.

I don't know. My ass kind of hurts.

Oh, no! Did I do cocaine?

I'm deathly allergic to cocaine.

And I'm allergic to gluten.

I hope that's gluten-free.

Oh, no.

Did we kill Waldo last night?

Maybe he was fucked to death.

Morning, fellas!

God damn it, who let Zach out of the straitjacket?

Is that a man-thong?

No, it's a regular thong. I wear them all the time.

That's disgusting.

Okay, we need to find Doug and get the hell out of here.

Somebody call him. Where's my phone?

Oh, holy shit. Is this a rocket launcher?

Zach?

- Dude! - Come on, we have to find Doug.

But that was...

Oh, my. Gentlemen, this is quite a mess.

Okay, this is awkward, but I'm just gonna go ahead and ask,

maid or hooker?

Manners! That is no way to speak to your escort.

I always ask. The answer's always the same.

It's been real nice talking to you, but we're just gonna go.

- I wouldn't do that. - Okay.

We're on a fucking train?

I knew it!

That means you're Effie Trinket!

No, my name is Effing.

And the three of you are on your way to the Games.

We discussed this all after your courageous gesture.

Why don't you look at your phone?

Fucking Reaping, bitches!

Doug's trying to kiss me again!

Doug, how you doing, buddy?

Fucking Reaping, bitches!

The first name of the girl...

- Why is Lady Gaga on the screen? - ...of the Games goes to...

Change the channel!

young Boo!

And now for the boys.

I volunteer!

We volunteer for the Hungover Games!

What a wonderful development!

Three of our brave volunteers to add to the race.

May the chances be ever in your corner.

Attica! Attica!

Okay, okay.

Hey!

Okay.

Will you keep it down?

I can hardly hear myself drink.

Haymitch!

That's not my name, you scruffy half-tard.

It's Justmitch.

Look, I'm enjoying all of this.

I really am.

Especially that little blonde schoolgirl situation you've got going on right there.

But right now we really just need to find our friend and be on our way.

The Sponsors will eat that bromance shit up with a spoon.

Speaking of which.

Okay, let me guess, now you're gonna tell us how to win the Games?

If you wanna live long enough to find your pansy little friend,

you'd best learn to listen to me.

If there's two things I know, it's hangovers

and murdering for sport.

And, hey, if you're lucky enough,

one of y'all might get out of here alive.

Did you just say "one" of us?

Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta find a vein.

You're watching Capitol Sports.

Skip, it's my favourite time of the year.

The weather is warming, the tig ol' bitties is coming out

and right now, it's time for the Hungover Games!

A great competition shaping up this year.

Contestants from the Superheroes District

and the Middle Earth District are once again among the favourites.

The Puppet District and the Depp District are particularly intriguing to

Stephen A. Timplesmith.

Johnny Depp. Is there any weirdo this guy won't play?

Straight freak!

Next up, we have The Real Housewives of District 8.

Now these trashy bitches

have about a 0% chance of surviving the Games.

White girls! Got me one at home.

Next up, we've got the Django District.

Now Django is tough, but let's get this straight, Skip.

He will never be LeBron.

Now, on the Django team

we have famed plantation owner Calvin Dandy.

Ironically, he's a good friend of mine.

All right, next up we have the Gratuitous Nudity District.

Dizzamn!

Everybody knows you cannot make entertainment like this

without some inexplicable, unwarranted nudity.

And finally our field is rounded out by our outlying districts.

District 9, Avatar.

District 10, Horror.

District 11, Katnip Everlean.

District 12, The Hungover Guys.

Hey! That looks like us and Doug!

Look, we've got about 48 hours to find him

and get him back to that wedding.

Okay.

I guess it's time for us to kill some motherfuckers.

I have the power!

Come on, cunt.

Oh, foo. Another year, another murder.

What a crop of freakazoids.

Stop swinging that in my face.

That is dangerous. That is not a toy!

Zach, will you stop? You're making us look like idiots.