Contestants in Rords of the Froor 3—the third installment of Soul City's drunk-amateur-breakdancing competition—wore costumes. Those at the War Room last Monday to bear witness showed support via unusual headgear: a furry leopard-print beret, a cap made of a bisected soccer ball, a Rick James wig. A gentleman in full clown regalia wore a Fun-O-Meter pinned to his lapel. Its dial was maxed out.

Near midnight, a barely drinking-age mob, happy to the point of unhinged, packed the rooftop deck; inside, palpable waves of humidity emanated from the dance floor. Two DJs scratched and mixed Run-D.M.C., Midnight Star, Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam. Then, as the MC intoned, it was time for the dirty, dirty business—for The Battle. The judges: a man in pink aviator shades, a guy in a wife-beater given to a look of disbelief, and an individual in a Judge Ito mask. The contest: a one-on-one, three-round elimination tourney to determine Seattle's preeminent nonprofessional inebriated breakdancer. The spoils: $1,000 cash. Seriously. Reminded of this fact, the crowd lost its collective mind.

Two broken legs and plastic-grid-lensed glasses apparently qualified as a costume: One of the first competitors, going by the name Big Funk, was thus outfitted. He and his challenger, Kid Robot, each imbibed a shot of tequila, accompanied by demonic chanting. Big Funk's vigorous moves, incorporating his crutches and Russian-style kicks, represented a triumph of the human spirit; Kid Robot never stood a chance. The second matchup: one Baby Chocolate against one Chudway. The requisite alcohol consumed, Baby Chocolate captured the imagination of all present with his fleet footwork and mad energy, not to mention his fake 'fro, wide-lapelled tan suit, and dazzling grin. When he shed his suit to reveal tiny '70s gym shorts and a T-shirt reading "NOBODY PUTS BABY IN THE CORNER," well, forget it. Next: Digital Fuckboy versus Mark the Sparks. The former, his hair styled in an '80s side ponytail, combined ballet, aikido, and spasticity to emerge victorious. Lastly, the only female contender, AKA Pop 'n' Lock (pink and black outfit, leg warmers), did a creditable worm, dispatching a gentleman who stripped down to pink spandex in an aerobics-inspired frenzy.

After the semifinals—a well-lubricated blur—came the ultimate showdown: Pop 'n' Lock against Baby Chocolate. Prior to the woman-versus-faux-black-man bout, both were required to consume an entire glass of Jägermeister (as the MC noted: "What Capitol Hill is known for: its diversity and its alcoholism"). The $1,000 winner: Pop 'n' Lock, who joyously reported feeling "Really drunk!" Moments later, her leg-warmered calves were spotted under a stall door in the ladies' room in a posture that could only indicate a ride on the porcelain bus in progress.

For info on Rords of the Froor 4, check www.soulcityseattle.com.

bethany@thestranger.com