On a trip to Thailand with Geno and Quentin we had a layover in The Philippines, arriving at the hotel later in the evening after an arduous 10 hour flight.  I left the boys in their room watching TV with strict instructions not to touch anything in the overstocked minibar.  I went out to have a beer.  About an hour later I stopped by their room and listened at the door.  It was completely silent.

The next morning at nine I knocked on the door with no response.  I began to knock louder and started to panic.  Finally one of them opened the door and immediately fell back into bed.  The scene that greeted me was straight out of the Hunter S Thompson novel, "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas".  Calling it a disaster would be kind. Candy wrappers, empty soda cans, crackers, chips and other food items were strewn about.  Wet bathing suits covered in sand and towels littered the floor.  Not one thing remained in the minibar.  I started to get angry but had to recognize the hilarity of it all.  I couldn't roust either of them so I went to breakfast.  

It took the rest of that day and the next to pry out of them what had happened.  The reason the room had been quiet the night before was because they weren't in it.  The hotel had a late-night rooftop bar and a sandy beach replica at the downstairs pool area. They had spent the night creating havoc, running from floor to floor, at times trying to avoid the staff.  No part of the hotel escaped their rampage, and I can only imagine the response from the hostesses at the bar.  Two little heathens amped on sugar and adrenaline with not a care in the world.  Finally, I was able to get them up.  They were completely wasted.