‘I hate parties. I especially hate New Year’s parties. I really loathe New Year’s parties with a load of loud-mouthed drunks.’The festive season was coming to an end and the last hurrah of the year was upon RAIDERS squad. It was rare for them to be at home during the period, as they were usually away on some far flung rock fighting for their lives. This year they had been granted some leave and Havock had taken it upon herself to organise a New Year’s party for her squad. Most of the group had jumped at the opportunity to have a free booze-up courtesy of High Command; Havock had lied and claimed she was leading a team building exercise. Karash had been the one member who needed convincing as the idea of spending his free time with the other RAIDERS troubled him. He had grown to be quite comfortable in the group but they were an odd bunch. In the end he was more or less ordered by Havock and Jae to attend.
The big event was being held in a private room that had been rented especially for the occasion and a series of so called ‘party droids’ were bar tenders and waiters. There was not a specific dress-code so Karash had over compensated and worn the most formal item of clothing he owned; he had only gone to high-class parties before so a squad shindig was out of his fashion range. He had already received a number of strange looks from passing revellers who despite the relatively early hour were already incredibly drunk.
“Hey! Ha ha! It’s a butler! How about butling over here. . . WOOO!” A young man in a naval uniform shouted as he ran passed Karash, the gentlemen appeared to be carrying a very distressed Cat.
Karash had been stood waiting for the elevator to arrive on his floor for quite a long time; he was starting to think that it might be broken. In fact he was starting to hope that it was actually broken because if it was, then he could blame his non-attendance on the elevator. Originally his New Year’s plans had been to sit alone in a darkened room and listen to the classics. However lady luck was not on his side as the elevator finally arrived.
“Happy New Year!” A man dressed as a Wookie shouted as he exited the lift. The same man then proceeded to kiss the Wookie on his left whilst fondling the person dressed as a Gungan on his right.
‘If any of the people from RAIDERS think this is an opportunity for a bacchanalian orgy then I shall have to put them right. A bit of revelry is fine but all out anarchy cannot be tolerated. After all, some of us have standards.’ “First floor, going down.” A clear robotic voice spoke from within the elevator.
There was only one other person in the elevator with him, a young man in an Engineering Corps uniform who was babbling to himself. The party goer had slurred out a greeting when Karash had entered the small metallic box but it was clear that he was not in any frame of mind to hold a decent conversation. On closer inspection Karash noticed the man had a badge attached to his uniform, it read
‘Hello I am Tom, I have been drinking for 12 hours and my friends think I would be safest here. Please be nice to me, Happy New Year!’ Karash pushed the young man into the back corner and stood as close to the door as he could.
The journey should have taken no more than ten seconds but he had been stood there for what felt like a few minutes. Suddenly there was an almighty shudder and the lights in the elevator flickered on and off, a small holographic droid then presented itself.
“Good evening, I am the chief maintenance droid for this building. I understand that you are experiencing some technical difficulties, we shall endeavour to have you out as quickly as possible.” The droid had an annoyingly cheery disposition.
“Exactly how long will that be?” Karash snapped.
“A definite time cannot be ascertained as our maintenance staff are currently all on leave. I believe they are at New Year’s parties. As such we hope to have you out within 24 hours.” The droid was cut off.
“24 hours? I am going to be stuck here for 24 hours, are you completely insane?” Karash almost screamed his queries.
“If you have any complaints please contact our customer service department. We shall be with you as soon as possible. Good evening.”
As he stood there, Karash began to feel slightly claustrophobic as the little metal box began to feel more like a coffin. It was a horrid little box really with bits of graffiti scrawled all over the place and obscene posters advertising all manner of services, currently Tom’s face was pressed up against
‘Big Bertha, the Gamorrean girl who knows just what humans like.’ Without warning Tom began to make a gurgling noise, which quickly turned into a growling noise in an attempt at speech.
“Eeeey aarrrmmsk Tom. Harp nurgle yat.” The young man grinned like a feeble minded school child.
“What?” Karash asked not expecting a response.
“Tom, Harp nurgle yat. . . Ha ha ha. . . Nurgle yat. Ha ha.” Tom pinched his face, laughed manically and then fell back into unconsciousness.
“I know a Gungan that will probably understand you. He struggles with basic too.” Karash sighed.
If Karash strained his ears he could just about hear the noise of party goers in the distance; there was music and dancing, laughter and shouting, fun and regret. Yet he was stuck in a metal box with no one but an incredibly drunk or possibly insane member of the Engineering Corps, who struggled with basic forms of communication. This was why Karash did not go to parties; they always ended up in disaster one way or the other. He would just have to spend New Year’s Eve alone, just as he had done every other year.
--- A few hours later ---“Good morning, I am happy to report that after six hours I have managed to restart the elevator service. I hope you have a nice day.” The droid reappeared after what felt like an age and delivered his saccharine laced message, expecting some kind of thanks.
“Well about time! How much longer did you want me to stay in here? Six bloody hours with that complete moron occasionally waking up and giving me nurgle fracking yat. You are lucky that I don’t hunt you down and shove your mechanical head up Tom’s nurgle yatting ass...” Karash’s rant was interrupted.
The doors of the elevator opened up and they arrived at Sodom and Gomorrah. The room was filled with empty bottles and cans, party decorations, random items of clothing and what appeared to be the RAIDERS or what was left of them. As Karash stepped out of the elevator he was greeted by the stench of stale booze, faded perfume and shame; all the hallmarks of a successful party. Grahim was lying on top of the bar with bottles marking his outline as if an alcoholic crime scene investigator had visited him. Skarr was face down in a punch-bowl, he had a pieces of glitter stuck to his head that made him look like a dead tooth-fairy. Finally he noticed Havock and Jaenna, the pair was clearly asleep though the position they were in could easily be misconstrued. Havock’s foot was perched on Jae’s shoulder and a licentious grin was slapped across their angelic faces. Karash had clearly missed on hell of a party.
‘I hate parties’He stood for a few more moments just letting the events of the past few hours sink into his mind. They would take far longer to properly comprehend but Karash vowed there and then that he would never agree to attend another party for the rest of his life. The experience had been awful and he could not imagine in his wildest dreams how to could get worse. It was then he noticed a stirring from behind him. Tom had awoken.
“Woaaaah.” The dishevelled man gestured at the disturbing view of the unconscious RAIDERS.
“I could not have said it better myself Tom. Oh and Happy New Year.” Karash said, almost happily.
“Harp nurgle yat. . .” Tom placed his arm around Karash’s shoulders, mainly for support. The young man then made a loud heaving sound and threw up on Karash.
Tom moved back into the elevator, sat down, rested his head on Bertha and went back to sleep. As the elevator door closed, Karash looked down at his clothing and saw he was covered in bright green goo that smelled vaguely of spearmint and it occasionally dripped on to the floor.
Taking in a deep breath, Karash whispered “I hate you Tom.”
