I'm a fighter

You know, they'd really outdone themselves. It had hardly seemed possible, and yet, here it was: an even tackier Christmas party, somehow.

There were plastic, glowing snowmen in every corner of the apartment, along with small Christmas trees pre-strung with lights and tinsel but accompanied by little boxes of ornaments so guests could decorate themselves, should they so choose. There was an arts and crafts corner set up in the guest room, just below a yarn wall of time-travel craziness. There was music playing for the moment, but a karaoke machine set up for later, after drinking. There was a table of presents, with little, 'FOR ANYONE, LOVE SANTA' tags attached. There was a small platter of cookies in the kitchen with nearby icing and sprinkles for guests to decorate as they choose, because let's just mash all the Christmas party themes into one, okay? Let's just do it.

And there was alcohol. There was so, so much alcohol. There were several kegs (filled, of course, with Christmas ale), Annie's extremely alcoholic wassail, and every extremely moddable mixer and liquor under the sun. And, most importantly -- like, so important that they literally had a spotlight -- there was a table of Summer's jello shots.

As if that were not enough, there was snow falling indoors, thanks to a certain neighbor with an affinity for red, and a drone circling the party with a big, unmistakable sprig of mistletoe suspended from it. The Drone Mistle. Because Christmas puns.

[it's all up! open to ALL adults, and students are welcome to try to crash if they'd like!]