Buddy and I were those guests.

I was in a group of friends led by the self-proclaimed Godfather. The Godfather had been calling himself straight-edge for years until the first time he smoked weed... he found that he really liked to get high. Well, his father strongly disapproved so he moved into an apartment with twin brothers. Let's call the cool brother S and other one C. We all met at our usual hangouts outside of their apartment until we started to become friends, eventually S & C invited our whole group to start hanging out at their apartment. One night, after a huge rip on the best weed we'd ever come across I fell into a terrible coughing fit. I ended up spewing onto the couch and carpet- HUGE mistake on my part- but it just came up. While everyone is laughing and I'm trying to run for paper towels C is flipping out and gets in my face. I stick some minty fresh gum in my chomper and push past him to grab the paper towels, S points out that they have some cleaning shit under the sink. I wanted to get the puke up as quickly as possible as to not kill the vibe. C was shouting in my face the entire time I scoop up the puke, soak up the juice from the couch and carpet, use this cleaner shit S found for me, and take out the trash. Now, I understand puking after a rip is bad manners, but at least I immediately thought to clean that shit up, right? The Godfather and S were appreciative of my actions, the smell was gone, I rolled a few joints for myself so I wouldn't touch the bong again, and we continued with our night with my dumb-ass the butt of all the jokes- all except C... C never really let it go. Fast forward a few months, C and I don't get along and he had started demanding I buy them a new couch a few days before a planned party. The Godfather and S tell me to ignore it, no stains or smell, C just is an asshole. Whatever. So this party is for Buddy, he is the last of us to turn eighteen so we all figured it would be a bash. We get alcohol, make plans to crash, order pizzas, have girls coming... awesome! Before anyone else arrives it's just me, Buddy, S, C, and The Godfather. We bust out the shot glasses and start downing shots like stupid kids that want to black out. Ten minutes later people start showing up, The Godfather is being all douche-king with Buddy making him to shot after shot and bellows to everyone "BUDDY IS GETTING FUCKED TONIGHT!!! MORE SHOTS!!" A chaotic night ensued that I wasn't there for... C pulled me aside and told me I wasn't welcome to crash. I laugh it off, he's just being a dick because I puked on his couch once... people were probably gonna do a lot worse tonight (oh they did...). A few more minutes and S comes up to me, "Hey, man... my brother really doesn't want to here tonight and he's getting pretty trashed... I don't want a fight to start. Buddy can stay but you have to leave with everyone when the party is over" Whatever, fuck you guys then. I ended up opening a can of worms by calling an ex-girlfriend walking to a gas-station for cigarettes and we re-kindled the drug-fueled relationship from hell in an abandoned house we called "The Bone Yard" (another story for another day. That bitch was crazy).

I find out a few days later that they ended up trashing their apartment, Buddy basically destroyed the guest bathroom, and C spent the rest of the party prowling around for me because he'd forgotten I'd left. At one of our hangouts a few weeks later C shows up and gets in my face about the couch again- also blaming some of the damages from that night on me (I was only at the party for an hour or two and left without damaging OR PUKING on anything). He kicked a few holes in the walls (my fault, apparently), and some chick ate an entire loaf of bread to sober up, gagged on The Godfather's dick during a public blowjob and puked all over the couch before passing out. The couch now reeked. I was coked up with my coke-head now-not-ex-girlfriend whom had the sense to get me to leave.