Danny: Boy? where to start? oh, yes, I've already started. now, where to go? hmmm, i think we’ll stop off in a party that’s going down right about now. in a room off the side of someone's basement which has been converted into a game room, two people are hooking up. both are quite drunk, as are many of the people in attendance. in fact, in three rooms, each just barely out of the mainstream of party-goers, 7 people are hooking up, in one fashion or another. seven is a lucky number, don’t you think?
the party had started with the intention of getting a large number of youths very drunk. in it’s earlier stages, there were some who were afraid to drink, but most had succumbed to the lure of “just one drink” and then “just one more drink” and then “the last drink, definitely the last” until they were all well past “keep ‘em comin’.” All but one person. Somehow, this young lad of 17 had evaded peer pressure. No one in the game room that used to be a basement even noticed him, many too absorbed in their own alcohol delirium to notice how truly ugly they had become, faces pale, hair matted against their face, beer drenching much of their clothing (those that were still wearing clothing, remember the seven?).
this outsider to the party was sitting in a leather recliner- though he wasn’t reclined, exactly- and he was watching his peers slaughter brain cells in the name of good clean fun. He had been waiting until he felt they were all well enough gone to not mind his video camera. As the congregation continued to make asses of themselves, he collected it all on a Sony palm-corder. Many people did actually notice him, but those that did tended to act more idiotic than before. His quest had begun even before the seven had entered their respective rooms.
Now, it is about time we gave this camera man a name. Not that we are officially making him a person, but the story will roll much better if he has a name. this odd little one we will call “Marcus.” Marcus walked around the party, capturing all of the revelers in their acts of drunken stupidity. People dancing without music; a group watching the shopping channel and making loud sexual comments; large fellows, likely from the football team, raiding the fridge; people in the yard, some sitting and talking, some laying in the grass, staring blankly at the sky. those in the basement were dancing and making a circus out of the whole room. they had music playing loud enough for the fridge raiders to hear through the freezer door and the ice cream carton currently serving as a hat. to say that the seven were the only ones hooking up would be wrong, because there was a general air of debauchery all round the house.
no, the seven were not alone in their carnal pursuits, but they are exceptional in their efforts, as we shall see later. the general lust-making among the party guests was of the usual sort one sees when guys and gals get smashed enough to loose most any inhibitions. the seven were not all drunk though, which may be disturbing on further evaluation.
three rooms, right? Marcus was not in any of these three rooms, he’s not one of the seven. one of these rooms was a shower in which two people, “Chris” and “Al”, were getting it on pretty heavy. they’d long since quit cleaning themselves off and have moved on into getting a little dirty when a bar of soap shot out over the top of the shower curtain. It riccochetted off the mirror, the toilet, and ended it’s flight spinning in the middle of the floor. The two lovers had moved into a semi reclining position in the bottom of the tub, not noticing the projectile. All the while, hot water rained down from above.
Another room was actually a garage. in the back seat of the candy apple red Ferraro with all leather interior were two more of the seven, “Rae” and “Danny”. truth be known, “Danny” was quite drunk. in the car, the girl was going to town. in the car the girl was always on top. “Danny” wasn’t used to this, but the alcohol had put “Danny” in a very laid-back frame of mind.
the final room inhabiting the seven was inhabited by “Casey” and yet another “Chris”. these two were old friends, new lovers. both were drunk off their respective asses and may not remember much of what they are up to. those memories which do persist will probably be repressed. neither of them will be able to talk about this evening for quite sometime.
Marcus was on his voyeuristic trip around the house, he had some choice targets in mind. Christopher Bernstein, over-achiever extraordinaire: Marcus wanted to catch Mr. valedictorian in some despicable acts, though earlier Chris was only caught conversing with a friend. Danielle Hunt, the quietest, mousiest girl in school; she had been lured here by a friend who thought Danielle could use a little loosening up: Marcus wanted to see how her innocence was holding up. Raechel Thurst, who was quite often a very outspoken member of any party she was attending: Marcus had seen her earlier, on the back deck, but she had since managed to effectively isappear,
which he thought unusual given her usual presence.
These three Marcus was determined to track down. their were others looking for lost party members. Tiffany Shreck had lost her date, Casey Braddock, early in the evening; Casey had gone off to talk to a friend, Mr. Bernstein, as a matter of fact. Christine Pavor, tomboy at large, had not been seen by her crew for more than two hours, since she had been inspired by the bottle and gone out to settle a score with miss Shreck, Tiffany being jealous of Casey and Christine’s friendship since elementary school. Albert, a very fat Albert, in fact, had somehow managed to fall away from Alice, his girl, who was not so fat as he. One of them was now desperately searching for the other. Alice, actually, hadn’t been searching too desperately for ol’ lard-ass, though. She had grown tired of his fat body, as nice of a guy as he was, he just didn’t do the thing for her anymore, “if ever” she thought to herself as the evening went on without him around though quite round, where ever he was. And lastly, among those coherent enough to realize some form of emptiness in this whole ritual was Daniel Task, who was contemplating the faults of the world through the glasses that had recently held two screwdrivers that had a stronger ancestry from potatoes than from oranges. The last person that any of the party-goers could remember him talking to as the ever-outgoing Mrs. Thurst.
and by now you are maybe wondering who number seven is, among other things. number seven was you, as you snuck into each little room to discover the secrets inside. But you are still unsure, aren’t you? which Chris is in a room with Casey? Which answer would Tiffany take better? Is it Moby “fatass” Dick in the tub with a soapy friend as Alice wonders what life would be like without the waste of flesh (and what a waste it is), or is it Alice who was being lathered up by the flying soap bar. is Christine gaining a pyrrhic victory? Is the future MIT student, Mr. Bernstein, doing a little liquor inspired exploration? Is either Chris getting what they want from Alice’s restaurant? We all know that Raechel is getting her swerve on in the back seat of the Ferraro, but who did she seduce? Darkly pensive Daniel, with not much, as he sees it, to lose or mousy lil' Danielle, a worthy prize for a great dyke hunter? What happened to the other “Danny”? was it a frail and confused little girl or a very depressed young man who... ah, I'm getting ahead of myself.
Marcus’s video tape holds the answer to the “’Danny’ dilemma”, along with a few choice moments of footage which would reveal which Chris entered the bathroom with which Al. Marcus, however didn’t realize he captured this footage. The action happened in the background as Marcus was taping an anonymous party-goer pick their nose with their tongue.
The closing footage Marcus collected showed a “Danny” crumpled under the frame of the deck, body badly broken, but luckily not dead. Marcus threw his camera aside and rushed into the house to call 911. lucky for “Danny”, Marcus wasn’t drinking and was therefore still coherent, unlucky for the rest of the guests, who had to make a hasty exit into the woods, those that were too drunk to leave the premises before the authorities showed up were busted for underage drinking, among other things.
Wouldn’t you love to have the tiny cassette in Marcus’s camcorder? But alas it was smashed to pieces when it had a fall similar to Danny’s after Marcus threw it aside in aiding poor broken “Danny”. In the case of the camera and it’s tape, the fall was quite fatal. Danny’s parents, grateful to have their child back from the suicide attempt, replaced the camera, but the tape is gone forever.