AUBURN HILLS — Inebriation and impulse spending. For many folks, these two go together like peanut butter and jelly.

And on the night of Nov. 19, 2004, this killer combo was in full effect for yours truly.

Because that it was the eve of the Michigan-Ohio State football game, I spent the night in a Columbus-area Holiday Inn bar, downing overpriced brews and pumping George Washingtons into the bar-top Megatouch video game console. The Pistons-Pacers game on TV had already become a distant afterthought when Indiana opened up a double-digit lead late in the fourth quarter. But in the middle of my umpteenth game of Astro Joe (the only Megatouch game with attainable high scores), my friend tore me away from the machine to witness the events unfolding on the silver screen. Before I knew it, Ron Artest, Stephen Jackson and Jermaine O’Neal had unleashed a foray of haymakers on Pistons fans, John Saunders had slammed the entire city of Detroit, and I had found my way back to a computer in my room to purchase four tickets to the Pistons game on Friday, March 25 — the Pacers next scheduled game at the Palace.

Now I’ll admit it. Although at the time I did believe that this game would boast playoff implications, the true motivation behind this impulse buy had little to do with watching a quality NBA basketball game. Like the cynical sports fan that watches NASCAR for the crashes, I just desired a train wreck. I wanted to attend the Malice at the Palace Part II.

In the next four months, a slew of friends promised that they would join me at the game if provided with one of my three extra tickets. But of course, come Friday, Rick’s and Touchdowns took precedent over all things fun and exciting, and I was scurrying to find at least one person to join me. Finally, Willow (yup, just like the movie) signed on, and the two of us were Detroit-bound.

As college days dwindle, so do the opportunities to throw all integrity out the window and make an idiot of oneself at a sporting event. So, Willow and I decided to make this game a memorable one by producing Ron Artest popsicle stick heads (fashioned after the heads in “Pardon the Interruption”) and a pair of signs. My sign — “Stephen Jackson Eats Babies” — was an obvious reference to Jackson’s crazed antics during the Basketbrawl, while Willow’s sign — “Joe Dumars Smokes Crack” — was just a senseless and obnoxious low blow at one of Detroit’s most beloved individuals (Willow’s a proud Pittsburgh native).

Upon arrival at the arena, I quickly discovered that the Palace didn’t share my desire for a repeat of Nov. 19’s circus show. Entrance security personnel forced every fan to empty all pockets and spread all limbs so they could administer handheld metal detector friskings. While the Artest popsicle stick heads cleared security, the signs did not. Our usher uttered a simple “That’s not going to fly” to my sign and then followed with a perplexed “Come on, man” to Willow’s before pointing to the garbage bin next to him. Appalled at this injustice, Willow and I donned Artest’s popsicle stick grill over our own faces during the walk to our seats and received some equally strange looks from passers-by.

When we arrived at our section, I eagerly anticipated locating our seats because I had splurged and bought the $22 tix instead of the cheapest offered. But our assent up the stairs seemed never-ending. Finally we came to our seats, which were one row down from the back wall. So basically, I had shelled out the extra dough to move a grand total of two feet closer to the action. Spectacular.

Moments after we sat down, Mason (the Pistons’ P.A. announcer) proudly recited two words — “Joe Dumars.” And then the scoreboard screens flashed a four-minute highlight reel of the team’s President of Basketball Operations during his playing days to the tune of The Temptations’ “The Way You Do the Things You Do.” I wonder how Willow’s sign would have been received by surrounding Pistons fans during this lovefest?

When 8 p.m. rolled around, there was no sign of the players. 8:15 … 8:30 … still no players. The Michigan State-Duke game came on the big screen and suddenly the Palace turned into the Breslin Center. As the crowd passionately cheered for Sparty, the loudspeakers belted out the Michigan State fight song. A few minutes later, an announcement brought out the night’s first boo birds: “Continue to enjoy the Michigan State-Duke game, but until further notice, this game has been delayed due to unforeseeable circumstances.”