Disclaimer: the following must be read in Bear Grylls’ accent. This is a quick reminder:

I immediately locate a nearby bin. It might make you a bit squeamish, but out here you have to use everything at your disposal to survive. Any bit of rubbish you find in the wild could be the difference between life and death. Trawling through the bin catches the attention of the bouncers, but having found for myself the basic materials for a slingshot, they needn’t be a problem.

By bending a metal bar I found in the bin, I am able to make a basic frame for my slingshot. A used condom that I also found in the bin will suffice as the rubber to sling the projectiles. Using my knife to help dig out chunks of the road, I now have my ammunition. At this point, the two bouncers start to yell at me, one inquiring furiously, “what the shit are you doing, ya fucknut?”

Luckily I have my slingshot and I shoot a chunk of asphalt straight in between his eyes and a light spray of semen bounces back from the dinga, blinding me momentarily, but not before I see him hit the floor. The other bouncer comes towards me and before I can wipe the jizz off my face I fire off another piece of asphalt into his groin area. Bouncers are large, but if I can cop him one in the goolies, it could mean the difference between life and death. Luckily for me, my shot is true, and down he goes like a sack of shit.

As I step over the two writhing bodies on the pavement, I notice that the one I hit in the face has extraordinarily filthy ears. Earwax is incredibly rich in protein, and if I can just manage to get a nibble of it, it could be a great source of important vitamins. It might not be a gourmet dinner, but out here, every morsel of sustenance could mean the difference between life and death.

Without the bouncers, the line has made its way into the club, and I follow suit. I approach the counter, behind which is a very attractive female. I’ve pitched many tents in the wild before, but none more wild than the tent I’m pitching in my pants right now. She asks for ten dollars but I haggle her down to nine, because in this terrain, one dollar could be the difference between life and death.

Inside the club, the first thing I notice is the throbbing music coming from the dance floor. This will impair my ability to hear oncoming danger, so I must have my wits about me. The second thing I notice about the music is its hypnotic effect on the females in the club. Upon hearing the music, the females enter a sort of slut trance, where they lift a glass into the air, spread their legs and bounce up and down in the hope of attracting a mate. It’s been documented before that in the wild some females will do this for hours, except for the fat ones who normally give up after three or four songs. The males try to impress the females by matching their body movement whilst dancing, but this only seems to work for the black males, or ironically, homosexuals.

I look across the room and lock eyes with a female. She smiles and looks away, but I notice that she keeps glancing back. After expending a lot of energy flirting, she places her drink down on a wooden counter and walks towards me in an indicator of sexual interest. She begins to open her mouth but I quickly dodge to the left and then punch her in the face, causing her to fall instantly to the ground. Females are often the cause of headaches, and me not getting a headache could be the difference between life and death.

Following this act of survival I notice the two bruised bouncers approach me. They look furious, and it’s best to avoid them. In this situation, human beings are wired for a fight or flight response, but luckily for me, I remember an Amazonian tribal technique in how to deal with this situation. I take my penis out hoping to warn off the predatory bouncers, but for some reason this doesn’t work. I try to pull out the slingshot I made earlier but the spoof has stuck it firmly into my pocket. The bouncers pause in confusion and stop moving towards me. I remember the sincerity of the locals’ penis advice, and consider that perhaps I didn’t show enough of the balls. I put my hand down my trousers and flop out my genitalia. Just like last time this fails me, and the bouncers pick me up and carry me out of the club.

I walk out of the street and turn left on the main road to find a McDonald’s. After quickly nipping into the bathroom to drink my own urine, I order a cheeseburger. A cheeseburger at this time of night could be the difference between life and death. I leave McDonald’s and get a cab to the pick-up point. The driver stops the meter and asks for money. However, I tell him that in the wild there is no money, and I apologise and wish him well. He becomes visibly angry, so I remember what the Amazonians told me to do in this situation. I hum a spell they taught me, while shaking my penis at the driver before walking away towards the pick up point where I start a large fire to attract the attention of the helicopter.

This has been one of my most gruelling challenges yet, but thanks to used condoms and ancient Amazonian wisdom, I have survived.