Throwing Away The Single Life
Bucks mission brief
It opens with an axe in hand and a host who runs the briefing straight-faced until the group's own competition begins and straight faces stop happening. The Buck's first throw sets the tone for the day, and pizza lands mid-round to make the next few throws noticeably worse. From there it's our sports bar, a section already sorted, cues off the rack fast, and the Buck handed a jug that reads more like punishment than refreshment. Dinner follows at our pub: burger, parmigiana or pizza, a drink with it, and a second beer for the Buck before he's finished the first. It ends at a gentlemen's club, walked into without a cent at the door. Four stops, one very deliberate send-off, and you're the one who made it look easy.
Game Plan
$199.00 per person, based on 10 attendees.
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All of your package customisations will show up right here!The Buck's first throw of the day says everything about the next few hours, and Throwing Away The Single Life is built entirely around watching that play out four more times before the night's done. The only decision anyone in this group still has to make tonight is what to order at dinner. Every venue, every seat, every drink already has its place, which frees up an entire day for questionable decision-making instead of logistics.
It opens at the range, where a host runs through the basics with a straight face right up until the group's own competition kicks off and straight faces become impossible. The Buck's first throw sails wide enough to become the unofficial theme of the day, and from there the group spends the next hour proving that watching someone else struggle is a genuinely excellent form of entertainment. Pizza turns up hot mid-round, and throws get noticeably worse the moment everyone's holding a slice in one hand.
Next it's our sports bar, a section already sorted for the group so there's nothing to negotiate on arrival. Cues come off the rack fast, and the Buck's presented with a jug that looks less like a drink and more like a punishment with a handle, expected to finish it while the group offers a running commentary on his form.
Dinner's at our pub: burger, parmigiana or pizza, whichever wins the table vote, plus a drink each. The Buck's shouted a second beer before he's even finished his meal, on the theory that a man losing his single life deserves at least one extra round he didn't ask for.
The last stop is a gentlemen's club, and the whole group's walking in without handing over a cent at the door. Whatever the Buck throws away for the rest of the night stays exactly where he threw it, which is precisely how tonight was always going to end.
You weren't the one juggling four different group chats trying to land on a plan everyone could agree with. You were there for the whole thing, watching the Buck's aim get worse and his night get better in roughly equal measure, and when someone asks how you managed to pull off a day this smooth, you're allowed to let them assume it was harder than it actually was.
This chapter doesn't run twice: today happens once, for one crew, and there's no rerun scheduled for next week. So lock your date in now, while it's still the one that's actually yours to claim.