As Winston Slept Next Door

This was my room last night. Double the body density. Double it again. Now extend this to include the entire suite, turn off the lights, turn up the music*, add a strobe, a shotski, and a plethora of scratch cards, and you'll have some idea of what's in store for mansuite this evening.



*Clearly, this picture doesn't convey the volume of the music. It was only playing off my computer, so it was relatively quiet. By that I mean it was quiet relative to the clarion call of the party duck marshaling mansuite men to their purpose: to feast, to love, and, above all else, to rage.