After realising that most of my friends are as socially inept as me, I decided it was best to avoid any situation in which they were forced to mingle with people who have mastered the art of small talk.
That's right I made the decision not to know anybody at a party in my own house. At the time it seemed like the wisest move. Now there was only a costume to worry about. We went shopping for odds and ends. The only problem with this is that I hate shopping. It makes me feel ill and dizzy and hungry. I lose the will to live and become easily influenced. Which is exactly what happened.
At the time the lady bird costume built for your average five year old seemed hilarious. But on the night it just looked hideous and ridiculous.
I went downstairs to show my housemate how silly I looked. I found her looking like some sort of beautiful sugar coated princess.
Then my other housemate came downstairs looking exactly like she always looks when staying in for the night. She'd turned herself into a giant fluffy dressing gown and when I asked what she was supposed to be I found out that attending our house's house party had been a choice all along.
It was too late though. Guests started arriving and I was clearly dressed up to participate. As people filed in I noticed a recurring pattern in their outfits. They almost looked like they weren't dressed up at all, with the exception of some subtle head pieces.
I sat sociably in a corner watching the party slowly heat up. It wasn't long before our sitting room became some sort of strange photo-shoot. Full of laughter and if something wasn't funny enough to merit actual laughter people would just flick their hair and say "LOL."
I was horrified and turned to the other semi-anti-social sitting on the outskirts beside me and voiced my concern. I mistakenly thought she would be equally disturbed.
At that point I gave up on the party.
I skulked off to my room. Where I had more important and pressing matters to handle.
I spent hours organising my drawers and making lists of things I needed to do. Eventually the party left our house to go and "LOL" elsewhere. My housemate who'd also been hiding in her room, emerged to investigate the damage. She came to me looking ever so slightly terrified.
We spent five minutes peeping at the comatose teenager sprawled across our couch.
We flicked the light switches on and off until he snorted and revealed he was indeed alive. We then decided to clean up some of the crazier things he had done in his drunken stupor.
After cleaning raw eggs off the floor, we decided it was best to go to sleep and leave the boy sleeping off his condition. The next morning we were all having breakfast and he had vanished. There was a note left where he had been sleeping.
At this point we realised that nobody had any idea who Jack or Stephen were. We sat sipping our tea in shock.