The Hungover Games Now

In the final showdown, it came down to him and the woman in the sequined tube top. They stood ten feet apart, swaying slightly.

Jack and the woman looked at each other in pure, unadulterated horror. They both sat down on the cold concrete, held their heads in their hands, and waited for the inevitable shame to begin.

Jack stumbled through the next few hours, avoiding sudden movements, loud noises, and anyone who said, “I feel great, actually.” He crawled through a tunnel of discarded party streamers, scaled a foam pit that smelled suspiciously of cheap vodka, and at one point had to outrun a rolling wave of brunch leftovers. The Hungover Games

The Hungover Games: no one really wins. But at least you don’t have to fight for the Advil alone.

“I don’t want to fight,” she whispered, wincing. In the final showdown, it came down to

“Fine. You both win. But you have to watch a recap of everything you said last night on video.”

“Your challenge,” the voice continued, “is simple. Survive. Avoid eye contact. Do not under any circumstances say ‘I’ll be fine.’ And whatever you do—do not sneeze.” They both sat down on the cold concrete,

Jack, moving slowly and deliberately, grabbed the sunglasses and the burrito. He ate the burrito in three desperate bites, then put on the sunglasses. For a moment, the world softened.