Assholes Finish First by Tucker Max, Maddox Page A

has become alarming. He is about to snap. I think maybe provoking him was a bad choice.
    8:52: One girl does not perceive the signs of danger. She gets very close and asks him how he could hate her. He throws his drink in her face and pushes her down.
    8:53: At first I am mad at him. He hurt a clown. Then I see that she is a titless hippie clown. I decide she deserved it.
    8:55: We decide it is time to leave the bar. The bartender wants me to settle the tab. “I don’t have any money. I’m a clown.” He gets angry. I tell him I’ll be right back with his money.
    8:56: I walk through the kitchen, out the back door, around the building, and get back on the bus. I’m sneaky.
    9:00: The CamelBak is empty. If I were sober, I would think that drinking a liter of vodka in three hours was a bad idea. Thankfully, drinking a liter of vodka in three hours means I am no longer able to think.
    9:20: We arrive at the next bar. I am slow off the bus and end up behind 50 clowns at the bar. I decide to be a good clown and wait patiently for my beer.
    9:21: I am still waiting patiently for my beer.
    9:22: I am waiting for my beer.
    9:24: I am not happy.
    9:25: I scream across the bar, “NILS, YOU ASSHOLE, I TOLD YOU THIS WOULD HAPPEN!”
    9:30: The call comes for everyone to get back on the bus. I am enraged at the slow service from the bartenders and curse them abusively, loudly informing them that they are incompetent retards.
    9:33: They
are
competent at calling the large bouncer. I quickly scurry away.
    9:34: I scurried the wrong way. There is a door, but it won’t open. The bouncer is coming, and he is bringing an ass-whooping with him. I kick the door until it crashes to the ground, landing in a shitheap of wood and glass. The fire alarm goes off. Everyone panics. I run to the bus, giggling to myself.
    9:35: I am the last clown on the bus. I tell everyone why I’m late. They think I may have gone overboard with the door. I think they don’t understand the context of the situation.
    9:45: We are dropped off at the next bar. I can feel the six-pack of beer and liter of vodka sloshing around in my stomach. I think perhaps my fears about not getting drunk enough were misguided.
    9:50: Nils buys a whole pizza for me. I take a slice and accidentally drop it on the ground. I drunkenly stare at it for a second, then pick it up and eat it anyway.
    9:51: Nils knows that when I eat street pizza, it’s time for me to pass out in a bathtub. He tries to flag down a taxi to send me home.
    9:55: Nils can’t get a cab. He gets angry. One taxi slows down, sees a large, angry Pedophile Clown, and starts to pull off. Nils flings the entire pizza box at the cab as if it were a Frisbee. The box flops open in midair, vomiting pizza everywhere, like a drunken cardboard Pac-Man. My last clear memory for over an hour.
    10:00–11:15: [MISSING FROM MY MEMORY]
    11:15: I wake up. I am face down on a hard, metal grate-type surface. My hands are bound behind my back. I have never been more confused in my life.
    11:18: The floor is moving. I look around. I am in a paddy wagon. Nils is sitting on the bench above me, “We got arrested.” This is not good. Maybe if I go back to sleep, everything will be better when I wake up.
    11:20pm–2:15am: [MISSING FROM MY MEMORY]
    2:15: I wake up. I am face down on hard plastic. I can barely move. I feel like I’ve been in a multi-car accident.
    2:18: I sit up. I’m in a plain white room, linoleum floors, lots of plastic chairs. There is a sea of brown paper towels on the ground in front of me. My bullhorn and my floaties are gone. This is the second time in one night I’ve been the most confused in my life.
    2:20: I look around. There are many drunk Mexicans sitting around me. They do not look happy. This might be a bad sign.
    2:22: I hear someone say, “Well look, Tucker’s awake.” It’s a cop. When you wake up in a police station, surrounded by drunk Mexicans, and a cop you’ve never seen before knows you by