Niples "Stag night gone wrong"

OOC- I'm quite lost with this bizarre talk of Niples with a bag on
his head, and a psiron so I'm setting this a bit later the same
evening of the Stag party.
Who: Seymour, Phil, Jay, Callum, Johnny, Smith, Chris Harris
Where: a big party hall with a GELF band playing some bizarre tribal
music
When: Seymour's stag party!
Seymour sat tied to a chair in the middle of a room with the paper
bag on his head, also with the sleeping mask that Johnny had given
him covering his eyes so that he couldn't see.
Phil aka Satan was prancing around jabbing Seymour occasionally with
a pronged stick. Others and some Gelfs were dancing around him
drinking and generally being rowdy.
"Gentlemen, once again this is not funny!" the Royal Ambassador
moaned, trying to struggle free of the ropes holding him to the
chair.
"Pour more beer down his neck!" Callum shouted, getting a bit over
excited and holding up a can of GELF special brew and a funnel.
"No, no, god no! I hate beer! Can you not find a fine wine, or maybe
some single malt…." Seymour said panicking as someone threw beer all
over his face to try getting him drunk.
"I'LL REPORT YOU, ALL OF YOU!!!" He gurgled. Then suddenly everyone
started making whooping noises.
"Here are the strippers! Enjoy Seymour, your last erotic dances of
freedom!"
Seymour moved his head around, still not being able to see because
of the bag on his head. He felt people moving around him, then felt
things caressing his legs and rubbing themselves against him.
"Euw! Gelf dancers, could you not get them to at least shave first!
How embarrassing this is not the way an Ambassador should be
treated! It is a good job not all of the crew are here to see me
like this!"
There was a clicking sound.
"Is that a camera? Are you TAKING PHOTOS?? I will have you all court-
marshalled, who is that? Kotchanski, Smith? Goode?"
It was actually Jay who kept quiet as he wound on the camera, only
the snigger slightly.
"Anyway, is this such a good idea when there's some dangerous kind
of… what was it, `psiron' thing running around loose?" Seymour said,
still bound and blindfolded tightly, and trying to ignore the hairy
strippers rubbing their baboon-like posteriors over his face.
Then suddenly he felt the room go silent and there was an air of
seriousness. He wasn't sure if anyone was still there, he thought he
could hear people running away very quickly. Even the annoying
strippers were gone.
"Hello? Gentlemen….. Jay? Phil..uh..Satan? Mr Smith?….. Mr Goode?
Even Kotchanski you annoying little pleb, are you there?"
There was no answer.
<Tag anyone!>