What to do when your friend wants you to get your face painted

“I dunno, wouldn’t the girls think I’m gay?” I ask.

Kane has been trying to convince me to get my face painted for a few minutes now. We are standing in the sticky foyer of Kasbah Nightclub, Coventry in front of two women perched atop of piles of old brown cushions. Surrounding them are tiny pots of paint and glitter, which they have used to apply a large sparkly blue butterfly to Kane’s angular face. I’m surprised they didn’t cut themselves on those sharp edges.

My efforts to resist a good old face painting are futile, due to the fact that my lanky friend has already bought me fifteen drinks already, I did say that I would get one if he did and most people think I’m gay anyway.

I have to admit, it did make me feel beautiful.

Out of nowhere, my other equally lanky friend appears, having disappeared for a few hours. Kane and I immediately hound him to get a matching butterfly with ours.

“It makes you feel so delicate, Joe. We’ve both got one so you’re basically obligated to get one,” I reason.

Joe is extremely apprehensive, but sits down on the round cushion anyway, shooting us a severe look of distaste. The woman on the left with long blonde curly hair leans into me and whispers: “Shall I do a penis on his face?”

It was a moment so profound it felt like an epiphany, awakening a previously untapped childlike glee at this prospect. Yes, that would be amazing. God has given me my task. I now had the power. This man’s face must become the scrotal Sistine Chapel. I stand back, giggling. How amusing! He thinks he’s having a butterfly, but really he’s having a hilarious practical joke played on him, the fool!

I’m informed that not only will a phallus be drawn, it will also look like a butterfly. Now this stupid joke has actually become interesting.

The result is far better than I could ever have hoped. I marvel at the artistry that went into it; a glorious, veiny, sparkly, blue penis with wings, sketched into the side of Joe’s face. A slow look of realisation dawns on him when he notices everyone’s obsession with his butterfly in particular.

“What have you done?” he says.

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