The terrible night of the Strip Jenga.
I was a guest in a friend's Uni house. He'd been dumped a couple of months before by his girlfriend and was just beginning to surface from the horrible funk this event had created. So I did what any responsible mate would do: I got him dead drunk and we went out on the pull. Got to get back on the horse sometime. Or the buffalo, as it turned out.

We met up with a couple of friends: A girl with whom I was deeply besotted (Let's call her Jenny) and another girl who was deeply besotted with me and who was, charitably, a trifle overweight.

Now, I'm no Arnie myself, people, and in fact I'm partial to a slightly larger lady, but this was the kind of overweight that made the thought of her being on top an exercise in cringing terror. Images of powdered hip bones, broken bedsteads etc swim into view, even now.
We shall call her Eleanor.

So my mate and I go out to a club with Jenny and Eleanor, buy them drinks and we all roll back to my pal's place, drunk out of our skulls.
Now we're all feeling a little naughty so I suggest we play strip something. But they have no cards in the house, not even Uno.
So we play strip Jenga.
I'm pretty good at Jenga usually, and I'm even better drunk. But when each round involves losing an article of clothing, Jenga takes hours. And, curse my luck, Jenny can hold her booze. So my mate and Eleanor are naked and out of the game in reasonably short order whilst Jenny and I are mostly clothed, fighting a grim duel until about seven in the morning.
While this was happening, Eleanor and my mate toddle off to his room, starkers, hand-in-hand looking like a stick insect had made friends with a beachball.
At around 6:55, we're playing double-or-quits, just to finish the game. Jenny and I are staring each other down. Whoever loses this round will lose every article of clothing, the tower is looking mighty unstable, and it's my go.
Out slides the little block, carefully, carefully. I'm going to win! I'm going to win!
And then, from my friend's room, there is a loud scream and a creak of tortured bedsprings. My hand jumped and down went the tower, and Jenny lets out a cackle of malevolent glee. I quickly strip, but don't give Jenny time to enjoy her victory - I dash out to see what the scream was about.
Stark naked, vision blurred, head pounding I open the door to my friend's rooms. Eleanor is lying, still naked, on her back on his bed, a view that does no-one any favours. My pal is in his en-suite, chucking up violently into his basin whilst shitting violently in the toilet.
I help him clean up, give him some water and then make a quick exit.
Jenny: So, uh, what now?
Me: We never speak of this. I don't think either of them's going to remember what happened tonight. I don't think either of them should.
Jenny: Agreed. Good game, by the way.
Me: Cheers.
Jenny: You were trying to shag me weren't you?
Me: Yup.
Jenny: You know I'm queer, right?
Me: No. No, I did not know that.
Jenny: Ah. Welp, well played.
Me: You too.
And off I slunk, into the night. I'm not sure if my pal remembers what happened, but he certainly pretends he doesn't. He was walking funny for a while though.

Names changed to protect the innocent, facts changed to make me look mildly less like a horny, drunken twat.
(universalpsykopath loves what you've done with your hair., Mon 10 Jan 2011, 10:35, 4 replies)

I enjoyed this tale, I shall click.
I have a horrible mental image in my head now, thanks.
( SigmaX0 Dear Die Hard. You rock!, Mon 10 Jan 2011, 12:59, closed)

Just slap their arse and ride the waves, right?

( jim_bob can herd cats., Mon 10 Jan 2011, 14:09, closed)

.
Awesome.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Mon 10 Jan 2011, 17:16, closed)

Also clicked
I tried strip jenga once. Slightly better odds, just me and 2 chicks. But, as you say, it takes frigging ages. We'd barely got past the sock stage before I gave up and went home.
( kappynitty doubled your entendre on, Wed 12 Jan 2011, 21:46, closed)