New York’s hottest club is INSIIIIIIIDE. This fully functional slaughterhouse in the shadow of the George Washington Bridge has it all: bald ladies spinning eggs on their fingers, dozens of hairless middle aged peephole guys, crucified monkeys, a zero gravity beef chamber, cyborg pigs, and an Asian limbo pole. You know, that thing where you have to crawl between two heavily tattooed Asian ladies who’ve had their hair braided together.
New York’s hottest club is FISTFUCK. Located 500 feet below the Chrysler Building, this converted secret CIA prison has it all: tweakers in cages, somebody’s uncle bashing stuff with metal rods, tribal bros wrestling in nets, and human cassingles. You know, that thing where jacked dudes wear nothing but a tangle of cassette tape over their junk.
3. “Head Like A Hole”
New York’s hottest club is BRUISED. Located in a random corridor of Penn Station, this club has it all: bucket showers, tribesmen spinning sticks, a shattered replica of Lt. Data from Star Trek: The Next Generation, and Twizzler Men. You know, that thing where guys replace their hair with black licorice.
New York’s hottest club is UGHHHHHHHH. Located right in the middle of the West Side Highway, this club has it all: muck hoses, smoldering wreckage, slime orgies, car crashes, and a human banana slug. You know that thing where a guy in green body paint slithers around on the ground and can’t stop licking you?
5. “Help Me I Am In Hell”
New York’s hottest club is ZZZZZZZZZ. Located on the top floor of FAO Schwarz, this nightmare chamber has it all: teeming insects, nipple torture, a private VIP room where a bald rich guy will stare through your soul while eating a fancy dinner covered in live flies, and a human ottoman. You know, that thing where a dude in fetish gear kneels on the ground and Dick Van Dyke trips over him, over and over again?
6. “The Perfect Drug”
New York’s hottest club is GOREY. Located on the first floor of Gracie Mansion, this club has it all: weeping widows serving tiny bottles of absinthe, a foggy moat for flailing and pouting, the hand of the Colossus of Rhodes, a kid who looks exactly like Hermione from the very first Harry Potter movie, and every night ends with a game of The Fop’s Cardio. You know, that thing where a Victorian dandy chases you through a hedge maze brandishing a knife?