Medicated madmen, munchies, and microwaves

This is my first post in English. Why ? I don't know, but it seems to be working so far so bear with me here. This is also a recollection of my Friday night (to the best of my abilities). So here we go...
'Twas about 9:15 pm when I arrived. Three chairs, two guys sitting. Their names were...let's say Darwin and ummmm....Satan. Satan is short, heavily medicated, full of cuts and stitches on his forearms and shins and oh, almost forgot, a FUCKING MADMAN. I was looking forward to a nice quiet night filled with 420 and C2H5OH, and Darwin seemed to be feeling the fiber of my fabric, but Satan started yelling like a FUCKING MADMAN, attracting attention and unleashing unfulfilled urges. Then Nikolai I, the Emperor of Russia arrived and was welcomed warmly by Satan with a hearty scream filled with rage and happiness at the same time. Then he ran away towards The Dark Alley of the Drunken Butterfly and we had a few moments of peace in which we started to make a plan for the evening. While we were walking towards the Canine Entertainment Facility (CEF), we met him again, and he was popping C16H13ClN2O like they were Tic-Tacs. Still Nikolai proved to be a very cunning Russian so he managed to send him towards a place far away from CEF.
After about 10 minutes I, Darwin and Nikolai I arrived at CEF. But there were prying eyes all around and we needed serious backup. Being a resourceful little fucker, I immediatly thought of Dante. So we summoned him and he appeared there in no longer than four minutes. But another guy appeared soon after him. Victor. At first, he appears like your average college student, but don't get fooled. He's a beast of a man. So we hit it off with a couple of beers to diverge attention and sooner than anticipated, quantities started being discussed. In the end, a TriTurbo was forged with the utmost craftsmanship, courtesy of your lord Dante. This was a marvel of technology because the goddamn thing just seemed eternal. It went by many names, from Havana Loca to Jugularis Infisert. But its' name was not important, for its' potency surpassed all the names a mere human could have called it. Then recollections of past lives were told among us, laughs were shared, songs were chanted, and then...the Storm trooper appeared. At first, we didn't know what to think, but he seemed to be coming in a peaceful manner, bearing a white flag and dark glasses during the night, so we dubbed him harmless and ignored him.
By the time the fire was was going out, we were still nowhere near able to reconnect to the normal personas we donned each day. And out of another dark alley, two eyes flickered closer and closer. As they were approaching, we distinguished the small frame of the Madman walking rather agitated towards us. Then I blacked out.
When I came to my senses, I was at the House of Malt-tasting, Slightly Alcoholic, but Greatly Refreshing Drink, enjoying a beer. Around me were Darwin, his wench, Dante, Victor, and two other guys whose names I will not utter here. But the Madman was as gone as a bad dream. Sadly, so was Nikolai. I asked them if any knew what happened but they had no recollection either. So we agreed to come up with a plan to rescue Nikolai from the evil clutches of Satan himself. And oh, such a great plan it was...And we probably would have stuck to it to death if it weren't for the deadliest enemy of mine. The munchies. So i headed to the nearest Nourishing, Tasty, but definitely Peculiar Food Place to buy something to eat. They gave a kebab but I knew then and there that I couldn't eat it on the spot. It would've been like date-rape. So I took it home to eat it properly, planning millions of kinds of torture on the way there, like a cannibal delighted at the sight of its' consenting soon-to-be victim.
I arrived home and there was nothing standing between me and my delicious kebab. So i took a bite, and instead of the orgasmic taste it should have provided, I tasted something cold. COLD ! But no worries, we are in the goddamn future, I said to myself reassuringly, We have the technology. We have the information. I ran into the kitchen, carefully unwrapped my kebab like a necrophiliac undresses its' cold victim, grabbed some more food from the nearby refrigerator and threw it all on a plate. Next stop, microwave ! Or so I thought...The microwave was staring at me with a freezing blank face that almost looked like he was somehow mocking me. No beeps, no lights, no nothing. So I started begging it, offered everything I had, said prayers to the Machine Spirit, but still nothing happened. He was dead to me. He could not hear my pledges, and if he did, he didn't care. He was just a soulless machine, an impartial robot.
And so I had to eat my food cold, gentlemen. And I did, for the munchies were strong.