  OK... as promised. Night From Hell, Part 2: Splat Out of Hell . First: the binge of epic proportions. We arrived at 11:30pm. Got beer. The Cokemaster drained his first bucket o' ponies in slightly less than 30 minutes.
Everything was very mellow and nice at this point. At midnight, the count was six ponies = 42 ounces of beer = 3.5 standard beers. Let's run some figures. 3.5 beers in 30 minutes would be equivalent to 7 beers per hour (bph). The urlLink blood alcohol content chart I have only runs to 240 pound guys. CM is bit bigger, I think.
So... with adjustments made, 7 bph for a guy his size would theoretically result in a .12 on the breathalyzer. The survey says: "BAC .10%-.12%: At this level, you feel euphoric, but you lack coordination and balance. Your motor skills are markedly impaired, as are your judgment and memory. You probably don't remember how many drinks you've had. Your emotions are exaggerated, and some people become loud, aggressive, or belligerent. If you're a guy, you may have trouble getting an erection when your BAC is this high.
" Roundabouts 12:30am... Euphoric? Check. Loud? Oh, yeah. Belligerent?
Getting there. Erectile Dysfunction? Didn't ask. We ordered a few baskets of fries at this point. Nothing like a plate of grease and salt to inspire further drinking. After finishing the fries (and they were damn good), CM began to shift into overdrive and challenged all takers to chugging competitions.
He amazed a small gathered audience with his prowess, besting the three other guys at our table with ease. I did not participate, for I knew that that was I battle that I could not win (or place, or show). The Cokemaster, however, was not content with his initial victories. He wanted to defend his title as quickly (and as often) as possible. One defeated party from a previous contest demanded a rematch. In his excitement at being challenged, coupled with his "markedly impaired judgment," CM failed to notice that the challenger was competing with a recapped empty bottle.
The rest of the audience did notice, of course, and everyone howled with delight at the Cokemaster's shocked outburst at being annihilated this time around. The stunt was just as funny the second time. And the third time. Midway through the chugfest, at about 1am, a cap-count confirmed that the new total was at/around 20 ponies. So, figures for the 12am-1am period: 13 ponies = 91 ounces of beer = 7.6 standard beers. 7.6 beers in 60 minutes = nearly 8 bph.
8 bph = .13 on the breathalyzer. And the survey says: "BAC .13%-.17%: Your euphoric feelings may give way to unpleasant feelings. You have difficulty talking, walking, or even standing. Your judgment and perception are severely impaired. You may become more aggressive, and there is an increased risk of accidentally injuring yourself or others. This is the point when you may experience a blackout.
" I'd say it was about then that the Cokemaster entered the time portal. I guess at 8 bph, his flux capacitor kicks him in the ass. In a conversation today, he says the last thing he remembered was starting to chug beers against people. The next thing he remembered was how scalding hot the water was in my shower. Anyhow, at around 1:20am, I was summoned to the dance floor by a hot blonde friend of mine, and proceeded to get some grind on for about 15 minutes. Then my blonde partner was interrupted by her friend.
Blondie turned to me, distraught, and informed me that her purse now smelled horrible because "some dude puked all over the table. " I knew who the "dude" was without having to ask, but out of some desperate hope for the contrary, I asked anyway. Confirmation: "Yeah, that big guy you're with. " I then looked toward the table, and standing beside it was the Moffman (a guy I graduated with that was sitting with us). Moffman gave the point and beckon. Further confirmation: "Your friend just puked all over me, man!
He was like, 'Sup? ' then 'BLEARGHHH!! " Table, floor, Blondie's purse, and the Moffman-- all direct hits. Miller Lite + Coors Light + fries/ketchup = viscous pink slime that reeked like spoiled nacho cheese. Estimated tally for 1:00am-1:30am period (based on known cap-count and eyewitness accounts): 10 ponies = 70 ounces of beer = 5.83 standard beers. 5.83 beers in 30 minutes = almost 12 bph.
12 bph = .20 on the breathalyzer. Survey says: BAC .20%: You feel confused, dazed, or otherwise disoriented. You need help to stand up or walk. If you hurt yourself at this point, you probably won't realize it because you won't feel pain. If you are aware you've injured yourself, chances are you won't do anything about it. At this point you may experience nausea and/or start vomiting (keep in mind that for some people, a lower blood alcohol level than .20% may cause vomiting).
Your gag reflex is impaired, so you could choke if you do throw up. Since blackouts are likely at this level, you may not remember any of this. Vomiting? That's a big 10-4. Tomorrow, the conclusion: Night From Hell, Part 3: Hell On Wheels . 
