It's an ultra-exclusive party, complete with silly dresscode, silly security and silly secrecy. And Mayer Hawthorne jumps through even hoop and makes the trek, all to realize that he's still mainly hanging with his own bad self.
Can the pool boy score the hot babe? Is he better off just going underwater and holding his breath until he hallucinates a better reality? Or, should he just resign himself to taking care of business Brad Hamilton style?