TNP's Hottest Club

Discussion in 'Games and Arts' started by Dreadton, Jun 13, 2019.

  1. Dreadton

    Dreadton Associate justice - -

    Messages:
    212
    TNP’s Hottest Club is “Girl, hold my earrings.”

    Snuggled into the back corner of a surprisingly spacious bottle return bin on the lower east side, “Girl, hold my earrings” is the 5 Hour Energy fueled niacin flush of New York’s only vitamin D deficient amateur entomologist, Jiminy Rickets.

    This club has everything your mother’s new boyfriend Tom disapproves of, but can’t do anything about because YOU’RE NOT MY REAL DAD, TOM!

    We’re talking:
    A haunted Speak-n-Spell that tells you the exact time and date that you’re going to die,
    A troop of Samoan “Saved by the Bell” cosplayers,
    The Infinity Gauntlet…

    And look over there! Is that Magnum P.I. himself, mister Tom Selleck? NO! It’s a poorly patched inflatable sex doll covered in live bees!

    And just when you think that your night can’t possibly get any more magical, you’re whisked away for a colorful game of Human Skittles!

    “Human Skittles? You mean like the candy?”

    Yes. No. Yes. No no no. It’s that thing that everybody does, where you duct tape a bunch of scared German tourists to office chairs and force feed them handfuls of dry Alka-Seltzer and Pop Rocks. Then you make them wash it down with those little tear drop things full of different colored food coloring and spin them really fast until they projectile vomit.

    “Why on earth would you do that to someone?”

    So they can TASTE THE RAINBOW!
     
  2. Dreadton

    Dreadton Associate justice - -

    Messages:
    212
    Yesyesyesyesyes, if you're visiting The North Pacific and you're looking for wholesome family entertainment, I've got just the place for you. TNP's hottest club is "Call 911, Your Mother's Not Breathing."

    Located snugly between the musty cushions of your Aunt Edna's pre-WW2 davenport sofa, this sweat-filled haberdashery cum abbatoir is the fetid brainchild of legendary country-music-singer-turned-transexual-porn-star, Johnny Gash. You won't need a password to get in, BUT YOUR CHILDREN WILL. (Here's a hint: it rhymes with "gashole.")

    This club has everything:

    • Cocaine-flavored ice cream

    • Incurable syphilis

    • Matador pants

    • Jack AND Diane

    • Day-glo resume templates

    • BOB SAGET
    And when you're tired of dodging pork noodle soup accidentally flung from Michael J. Fox's ever-gyrating spoon, you can always check out the dance floor, where you'll find Australian Drag Queen "Upton O. Goode." But whatever you do, don't ask her what time it is. She. Has. No. Idea.

    And, last but not least, you have to check out the Human Fanny Packs.

    "What are human fanny packs?"

    It's that thing, of when you put on spandex pants and see how many midgets you can shove down the crotch and still walk into the Times Square Disney store and demand Glenlivet, NEAT.