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“Come on, you bitch” I muttered as Luigi roared down Sherbet Land’s final straightaway, barreling toward the bright yellow letters of the finish line. This was it, the hour of my victory. I quickly held up the Natural Light can sitting next to me and shook it. It was bone dry. Just a few more feet and I was home free. I hastily glanced at the shot glass in the middle of the coffee table I was sitting next to — the calm, clear liquid it contained not indicative of the horrible punishment it represented. Everclear: the penalty for second place. I smiled, knowing that shot belonged to someone else, because this motherfucking cup was mine. Nothing could stop me.
That’s when I heard it. The blaring siren of imminent death. Some snickering sounded from behind me, no doubt the giggling of my piece of human garbage friend, who had not only stolen Mario from me at the character selection screen, but was now in the perfect position to prevent me from taking this win home. My grip on the controller tightened, my thumb squishing the green A button hard enough to leave an imprint on my finger. I just needed a little bit more time before it hit, just a few precious seconds to cement my victory.
We were tied on the scoreboard due to my god awful showing on Bowser’s Castle the race before. Drifted right off the wooden bridge and into the lava on the third lap. Amateur mistake, but I was seven beers deep and the quality of my motor functions had declined significantly. My monster screw-up had set up a winner-take-all showdown on Sherbet land, one which I had in the bag, right up until that moment. So there I was, stuck with the taller, more effeminate of the most famous video game relatives on the planet, with a blue shell bearing down on me faster than a Cheetah hunting Michael Moore while he’s dressed in Lady Gaga’s meat dress from the 2010 VMAs. I tossed up a quick prayer and closed my eyes.
I didn’t make it.
The shell blew me up a foot from the finish line. I took third, and the overly full shot of Everclear that came with the position. I don’t remember much after that. Eight beers and two shots of Everclear (yea I lost the first cup, too) can do that to a man.
Beerio Kart is one of the best drinking games out there. It represents the perfect meld of adult entertainment, childhood nostalgia, and competitive spirit. The game can be played with any version of the iconic racers — from the classic 64 edition to Double Dash (fuck you if you choose the turtles with the three red shells as a special – you are everything that’s wrong with this world, you incessantly gurgling orifice of diseased rhinoceros piss), and the Wii versions with bikes and coins and shit. All that is required to play is an assload of beer and a game system.
The rules of the game are simple: Every player begins each race with a full, unopened beer. Said player must finish their beer before crossing the finish line at the end of the three lap duration of each individual contest. This is very important: If you fail to finish your beer ahead of completing the race, anyone that is playing with you has full license to take you outside and savagely beat you with a hose until you lose consciousness and leave you in the elements. The kicker is that the beer cannot be consumed while the player’s character is moving in any way. That is actively driving under the the influence, therefore illegal as fuck.
There are various strategies for completing this requirement. Some people prefer to drink the entirety of their beer at the beginning of each race, thus allowing them the rest of the time to make up any distance lost and win without having to slow down. Others choose to pull off to the side of the track at specific locations, like right in front of a boost or a cannon, in order to accelerate back to optimum speed much more quickly after draining their beer. There are even the psychotic few who prefer to leave their entire beer until the very end and rely on their quick chugging skills and the lead they built to protect them from last minute surges from other players. All legitimate strategies. All lethal if put to good use.
Of course, everyone will have their own additions that make each round of Beerio Kart a customized experience. We like to penalize the player bringing up the rear with shots of high percentage alcohol because we’re fucked in the head. I have played games where the first three races of a standard cup require regular 12-ounce cans of light beer, and the fourth “lightning round” replaces those with 24-ounce Steel Reserves to knock you on your ass. I have even heard of the inclusion of a “cop” character whose job it is to hit other players with shells, leading them to immediately stop and finish their beers on the spot. Doesn’t really make sense to me knowing how police officers operate in real life, but fuck it.
Beerio Kart is one of the finest drinking games out there today. You think hitting the last cup in beer pong or anchoring a flip cup team is a high pressure situation? Try navigating Rainbow Road after taking down half a case of Natty. There aren’t any walls on that glittering highway to hell. The only consolation for falling off is drinking while that poor bastard who rides in a cloud with a fishing pole lifts your drunk ass back onto the track. Little son of a bitch has seen some shit in his day.
I guess the moral of the story is don’t drink and drive, not because you would be a danger to others, but because that’s cheating, and the punishment for that comes in a little stiffer than a $10,000 court case..