What are the odds that there'd be two prom-themed parties on the same night? The gorgeous ladies whose Easter party nearly killed me are celebrating Prom-iscuous, and the idea of a prom filled with lingerie-clad women (and men) is too good to pass up. But first, on the basis of the name alone, I must check out Promageddon.
It was genius, combining a high-school prom with the apocalypse. There's a big dance floor, a loft covered in pillowy beds and white gauze called the rapture (where a sign scolds, "No fucking") and a large padded area dedicated to Mortal Kombat. Contestants spin the Wheel of Doom and then compete in whichever game the Wheel chooses. Over the course of the evening, there's Twister, a spelling bee (the winning word is imaginary and has at least 6 Ls in a row), some violent rock-paper-scissors, and "kick the baby," a game that requires players to kick a baby attached to a string hanging from the other contestant's back.
The end of days offers tons of fashion options. There are the Mad Max refugees and the dystopic flesh-trade slave women, but one guy is a Moonie ("There is no I in cult," says his sign) and one woman is a nun who informs me that "you should leave this den of sin!" I ignore her, and spend the next half-hour in a raging pillow fight. I'm having so much fun at the end of the world that by the time I remember that I'm supposed to hit up Prom-iscuous, it's one o'clock and I can barely stand: The apocalypse has kicked my ass.
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