vivarium | CALHOUN HOUR

Everything in the warehouse always followed a strict schedule. Every three days, there would either be an Ambidex Round and this would continue until four rounds were held. After that, it would switch over to "Calhoun Hour" events for the next short while, and despite the sudden change in atmosphere, it would follow the same pattern of always starting during the early mornings, but today?

Nothing.

No annoying screeching, no sudden decorations, nothing special to wake up to. In fact, there's not even an alarm. You can wake up whenever you want. Calhoun isn't here, he doesn't care. He's off on vacation, he doesn't have time for you test subjects, this is his first vacation in forever, he's free. At least, that's what the sheet of paper taped against the Number 9 Door read, signatured by Calhoun's attempt of drawing himself (note: it doesn't look good).

So, asides from the locked elevator and stairs, preventing anyone from accessing the second floor, it looks like you can do anything you want. Feel free to wreck havoc, have a fight food in the cafeteria, stab each other. You are all free now.

Well, only for the morning and afternoon.

During the evening, one angry little robotic mouse stomps back into the lobby of the warehouse. Dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, shorts, lei necklace, and sunglasses (over his gas mask...), he drags his suitcase behind him and stands in the middle of the room.

"So apparently I'm not allowed to leave you spoiled test subjects with nothing to do! I have to "do my job" and keep you all busy. I don't think I'm getting paid enough for this," he huffs loudly and crosses his arms. "I was just really getting into my vacation too. I'm too good for these test subjects and this world, working overtime."

This tantrum goes on for another half a minute, about how even he needs proper rest too and he's not a robotic mouse, he's an overworked mouse, and so on. He just sighs once he finishes and shakes his head.

"But I guesssss it's true we need to get you lazy bunch to do something besides eat all my gruel and whine about these so-called 'human rights violations', so over to the second floor! Your next Calhoun Hour is going to be held there!"

At the elevators, they unlock with the clap of his paws, and behold, the new second floor!

The floors are no longer hard and cold tiles, but rather soft and covered in blankets. There are cruelly drawn signs stuck up on the walls to indicate different activities, a karaoke machine in one corner, a tv in the other, a rack full of pyjamas, and... is that yet another table with a mysterious punch bowl on it? What is this mouse and his deal with having punch everywhere.

"All right, punks, this was originally going to be all for me for my welcome back party, but since you need an event, I am generously giving this to you! Grab a pair of PJs and a ballot card. For each activity you do, you get one stamp. Get five stamps and, I don't know, you win coins and a memory or something. I'll figure it out later, so get to it!"

BASIC INFO ✖ EVENT STATIONS ✖ BEGIN THE SLEEPOVER ✖ MINGLE
TURN-IN

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Well, if it isn't his good fellow drunken friend Ema. He beams at her.]

I've already gotten my five activities in, but if you haven't yet then I'd be more than happy to do something with you. Or we could just do something anyway.

Who's a little busy bee! Counting is, scientifically speaking, a hassle, but I'm all for celebrating the gifts of jammies and punch provided by our overlords with verse and song.

[which may be the most roundabout way ever of asking if he wants to karaoke or something but you know rum punch is a wonderful thing]

[Rum punch is definitely the best thing that Calhoun has ever given them. He laughs heartily at Ema's roundabout language.]

That's a wonderful idea! Let's go!

[And then he grabs her hand and whisks her away to the karaoke station.]

[excellent~ she wastes no time in flipping through the song selection]

Think there're any power ballads or arena rock? Can you sing anything like that or is it not allowed because you're British? Does the Queen deport you if you're too amused?

The Queen can kiss my arse, to be honest.

[Whoa watch out, we've got a badass over here. He watches as Ema flips through the songs and stops her when "Livin' on a Prayer" comes up.]

Oh! Can we sing that one?

We not only can, but we must. Even if a kiss from the Queen wasn't at stake.

[she punches in the song, grinning wider as the karaoke synthesized version of thrumming bass begins to play, and she belts out with the music]

♪Tommy used to work at the dooocks
Union's been on strike,
something something something
so tuuuuuff, so toughhhh♪

CALHOUN HOUR - SLEEPOVER

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