Coloured light flashed through the living room and the volume was turned all the way up. The whole house was filled with partygoers. As Bianca and Vera sat sipping Blue Curacao on the sofa, Filippo came up to them, a bottle of beer in hand, ‘Better than your naughty party theme, right?’ ‘Yes, it’s turned out okay,’ said Bianca airily. She was still feeling a little peeved because during the preparations her theme suggestion, Happy to be Non-PC, had been rejected for being corny.’In a few minutes it’s even going to get better,’ chuckled Filippo. ‘But if you will excuse me ladies, I’m going to assume a better position.’ He sauntered over to a small group of female international students.
A few people whistled when they saw Derk climbing up on the table. He gestured to Willem-Jan to turn down the volume. ‘People,’ shouted Derk. ‘The time has come for us to make a living Rubik’s Cube. The first participant whose clothes are all the same colour will win this wonderful trophy.’ Above his head, he raised a board on which a Rubik’s Cube was bobbing back and forth on a spring. His audience cheered. ‘Trousers off, trousers off!’ was soon booming through the room. Thanks to the many hours Derk had been spending at the gym, he needed little encouragement. He pulled off his T-shirt provocatively and swung it around like a lasso. Willem-Jan got the song You can leave your hat on blasting out of the speakers. ‘Let’s start!’
The crowd surged into action. Everyone started pulling off articles of clothing, swapping them or searching for the right colour. In no time at all, the room was full of half- naked bodies. Then suddenly, the music cut out. Standing in Willem-Jan’s place next to the sound equipment was a balding, middle-aged man.
‘What’s going on here?!’ The partygoers stared in shock at the landlord’s beetroot face. ‘Everybody out! My house isn’t a brothel!’ Hastily, the guests snatched up their clothes and slipped out of the house as quietly as they could. The housemates stood rooted to the spot.
‘I’ve received complaints about the noise. You can hear this racket three streets away. It’s ridiculous.’ His gaze fell on the duct tape covering the hole in the balcony window. Before he could react, Filippo patted him placatingly on the shoulder, ‘Relax dude! Why the angry face? You should be happy! ’Why should I be happy?’ the landlord asked through gritted teeth. ‘Because you are the winner!’ Filippo handed the trophy to the blue-clad landlord dressed in jeans and a denim jacket.
right colour. In no time at all, the room was full of half- naked bodies. Then suddenly, the music cut out. Standing in Willem-Jan’s place next to the sound equipment was a balding, middle-aged man.
‘What’s going on here?!’ The partygoers stared in shock at the landlord’s beetroot face. ‘Everybody out! My house isn’t a brothel!’ Hastily, the guests snatched up their clothes and slipped out of the house as quietly as they could. The housemates stood rooted to the spot.
‘I’ve received complaints about the noise. You can hear this racket three streets away. It’s ridiculous.’ His gaze fell on the duct tape covering the hole in the balcony window.
Before he could react, Filippo patted him placatingly on the shoulder, ‘Relax dude! Why the angry face? You should be happy!’
‘Why should I be happy?’ the landlord asked through gritted teeth. ‘Because you are the winner!’ Filippo handed the trophy to the blue-clad landlord dressed in jeans and a denim jacket.