...or Why Scoop's Sister Can't Hold Her Liquor
It has come to my attention that apparently not everyone is familiar with the popular, but deadly, alcoholic beverage The Scorpion Bowl. As you can see from the picture, the beverage is intended to be drunk by several individuals at once. Imbibing of a Scorpion Bowl by fewer than three people is an activity akin to Russian Roulette: after you put away the first one you may feel like you've dodged the damage bullet, but continuing to drink them after that is like putting more bullets in the gun. You will get hurt.
Mr. Scoop thinks it would be great fun if I went online some night and went mano y mano with someone in a contest to see who could put away the most Scorpion Bowls solo. Somewhere in this he envisions some kind of internet Nepalese drinking contest, like in Raiders of the Lost Ark, and I get to be Karen Allen. I'm not sure exactly what I'd get out of this other than a potentially amusing IM transcript, a hangover and the possibility of waking up after a blackout with a penis scrawled on my face by a Sharpie, but I'm sure he means well.
To that end, here's a recipe for a Scorpion Bowl:
3 oz. Grenadine
3 oz. Pineapple Juice
3 oz. Orange Juice
2 oz. Vodka
2 oz. Gin
2 oz. Light Rum
1 oz. Bacardi 151 Proof Rum
Fill a Scorpion Bowl half full of ice. Blend alcohol with a cup of ice and the juice. Garnish with a pineapple stick and cherries.
-Drinkers may also choose to bludgeon themselve on the head with the empty bowl when they've finished drinking. It certainly won't do any more damage, because they probably won't be able to feel it.
Some People Are Not Meant To Drink Scorpion Bowls
My sister for one.
One night, we went out drinking. We had a couple of beers before a comedy show. At the show, we ordered a Scorpion Bowl. Now, perhaps what was about to transpire was my fault, because I knew going into it that she didn't drink that much. We drank the Scorpion Bowl. We ordered another. It was at about this point that I noticed that she was really enthusiastistic about giving suggestions to the improv troop on stage. Granted, she would have preferred to be onstage than in the audience. Because of that, I didn't take the enthusiasm that seriously. Afterall, she wasn't getting naked or dancing on a table. When the show finished, we had about a third of the second bowl left.
The Scorpion Bowls at this bar had little plastic toys floating in them. I think the inclusion of potential choking hazards is to help weed out the lightweights from the serious drinkings. If the bar staff finds you slumped over, blue in the face because you weren't paying attention to the plastic mermaids, you're cut off. If the bar staff finds you in a corner, talking to yourself and playing with the toys, you're cut off. It's a good system.
As we finished the second bowl and ordered the third bowl, my sister excused herself to the bathroom. She was gone for a very long time. I didn't notice, because I was getting hit on by an off duty bouncer who kind of looked like Sinbad. And the third Scorpion Bowl arrived. Somewhere between finishing the bowl on my own and learning that the on-staff...bouncers frown on demonstrations of non-violent restraint techniques on their off duty co-workers, a waitress arrived to ask me if it was my sister who was in the bathroom and could I possibly go check on her? Indeed, it was my sister.
I found her slumped inside a stall with her head resting on the toilet seat. She had sprayed the inside of the stall with a violent technicolor yawn. No one had been there to hold her hair back. I felt a little bad about that. But only a little. Mostly, I was concerned about getting out the building without attracting further attention. I went back to the bar to pay my tab. Then I collected her from the stall and propped her in a corner while I tried, in vain, to clean the mess up with a large wad of paper towels. It was futile. I hustled out down the stairs and out the doors as quickly as I could. We got into a cab and were driven home - 2 towns over. I would remember the next day that I'd driven and have to get a cab back into town in order to collect my car and get back home. However, if you're too drunk to remember that you've taken your car to begin with you really shouldn't be driving home. The next morning my sister would wake up looking like she'd been punched in both eyes and have one more thing to add to the list of reasons that she should move out of state and not speak to me.
Who wants a drink?