The drink station seemed like an obvious first stop for a party like this. Simon wanted to get some liquid courage in him as soon as possible. Plus hopefully Clark had the same train of thought.
He kept his eyes peeled for his feline friend. In the meanwhile Simon took in the rest of the party. These guys really went all out! He was starting to feel a little under-dressed with just his work clothes and some hokey face paint.
Still, they were all there to have a fun time. Hopefully he could meet some new people. Simon walked up to the drink table and grabbed a beer out of a cooler.
“Oink, bad idea,” snorted a pig man loitering nearby.
Simon looked down at his beer. It looked fine? This was his usual brand!
He looked up at the pig. The guy clearly just had a pillow shoved up under his shirt. He had a stereotypical pig nose being held up by an elastic band, but he was also wearing a set of fake tusks.
Man! They looked so much better than Simon’s inverted vampire teeth!
“Cans and tusks don’t mix,” He tapped one of his fake plastic teeth, “Better stick with something you can drink from a straw.”
“Ah! Yes! Thank you friendly pig-man!” Simon laughed nervously, poking his own plastic teeth. He still wasn’t sure what sort of tone he wanted to take just yet.
“I think some folks were making Tom Collins down over there,” the pig pointed, “Can I ask what you’re dressed up as?”
Simon gave him a sympathetic smile behind his fake teeth, “Klarg is mighty orc!” He did a stereotypical flexing post.
The pig raised an eyebrow, “Uh huh? Nice slacks.”
Simon looked down at himself, “Klarg have a mortgage? What can orc do?” He shrugged.
“At least you’ve got the voice down,” the pig raised his drink. He took a sip as he politely excused himself to the rest of the party.
Klarg did have the voice down! It was fun putting a nice comical grumble on everything he said.
Hmpf, speaking of grumbling, he really didn’t want to have to futz around with a straw all night. Sigh, the price orc pay for not wanting to cover most of his face. Klarg found a gaggle of guys in raccoon masks making some sweet bubbly drinks in the corner. They were more than happy to pour him one as well.
“Klarg honors you and your clan ringtails!” He grinned. Their tails really were impressive.
There was still no sign of Prince Chesh anywhere. Klarg sipped his cocktail as he made his way through the house. He wasn’t in the living room. No sign of him in the dining room. Nor any of the lounges. That just left the patio out back.
Unless his highness had somehow managed to sneak off with someone upstairs already.
Klarg set his glass down. That cocktail went straight through him. First the little orc’s room, then exploring out back.
He found one of the downstairs bathrooms without too much trouble. Thankfully it was early enough in the night that there wasn’t a line for it yet. A tall guy in a donkey mask clopped out just as Klarg approached.
Klarg slipped inside and locked the door. It looked like your standard fancy bathroom. Nice hand towels, bowl of smelly stuff on top of the toilet, and a big mirror behind the sink.
Double checking the door lock, Klarg started to undo the belt on his khakis. He untucked his work shirt and what in the eternal flames!?
His- Klarg’s stomach was green! His belly perfectly matched the green face paint he had applied earlier! Had the paint slid down from his arms somehow? That didn’t make any sense!
Klarg lifted his shirt up nervously. What the blazes!? It- It kept going! I looked like his entire chest was green!
He fan his fingers over his stomach nervously. It didn’t even feel tacky like his arms had earlier. Come to think of it, the paint on his arms seemed completely dry. He rubbed his forearms curiously. How had he not got any paint on his body hair…?
His khakis had started to sag down while Klarg was distracted. He reached down tro try and pull them back up, but he noticed something else that was out of place.
Klarg only ever wore boxers. Resting around his waist right now was… something else. It had a sturdy elastic waistband like a jockstrap, but there was hardly any material hanging off of it. It still had the processed cotton sheen of modern underwear, but it just looked like a small flap.
Was he wearing… a sport loin cloth?
Klarg’s curiosity got the better of him. He lifted up the flap and- By the maker! His cock was green!
And… big.
Whatever allergic reaction was going on had clearly spread to his legs. That had to be it? Right? Maybe those raccoons spiked something in his drink?
He needed to get this stuff washed off. Klarg walked over to the mirror to splash some water up on his face.
He hardly recognized the image staring back at him. The figure in the mirror wasn’t wearing face paint. It… it was an orc!
“The blazes…?” Klarg reached up, running a hand along his face.
He turned on the sink. He ran his hands under the water and watched as clear liquid ran off. He splashed some of the water up onto his face and rubbed vigorously. It… wasn’t coming off!
“Klarg not understand…” He grumbled. Ugh, he had managed to get his eye patch wet.
Klarg pulled the strap off his head. He was momentarily distracted by how unkempt his hair had gotten, but then he let out a started yell.
“Gah!” His… his vision hadn’t gotten any better! He was still staring out at a world without any depth perception. Looking back at him in the mirror was a reflection with one good eye, and one obviously glass eye.
“What in the eternal flames is going on!?” Klarg quickly put his eyepatch back on, “Klarg need to go get help…!”
He unlocked the door to the bathroom and started to pull it open. Somehow the festivities sounded even more lively than when he had snuck off earlier.
“Finally,” a voice spoke up from the other side of the door. A line seemed to have formed in his absence.
Klarg rushed out of the bathroom… and promptly tripped over the pants he had forgotten to put back on in his panic.