I'm a fighter

It was a Christmas miracle: an even tackier, way-too-early ugly sweater party.

With way, way too much alcohol, and a kinda ridiculous number of activities.

There were, of course, the ubiquitous plastic snowmen haunting (almost) every corner of the apartment, and one out on each of the Smokers' Balconies for good measure. There were strings of lights lining the ceiling, as well as tracing the edges of each window. There were cookies to decorate (and eat, because you definitely should eat, and there were moddable snacks aplenty as well.) While there was, of course, Christmas music playing, those with keen eyes (or at least, enough wherewithal to look around an apartment before you started potentially drinking heavily in it) might spot a karaoke machine that would come out later. One particularly tinsel-y corner had an abundance of Santa hats and reindeer antlers and wearable strings of lights to wear while taking photos, and in the guest room -- of course -- there was a much-fabled craft table, where you could make an ornament that didn't have to be in an immature shape, but definitely could be.

There was also, hovering slowly through the party, a drone with mistletoe dangling from it. A Mistle Drone, one might call it, even.

And, because this was the Christmas Rager, there was alcohol. There was so, so, so much alcohol. The kegs of Christmas ale had once been reordered, there was a Make Your Own hot chocolate and coffee bar, and while Annie would never argue that Summer's shot table wasn't the star of every party...this year was a little different. Mostly because of how they'd decided to serve Annie's punch: in a freestanding bathtub, just slightly off-center from the room.

Welcome to the third annual Christmas Rager. Hope you wore a sweater, because the hostesses both have glitter cannons in case you didn't show up festive enough!

[please hold for way too many threads and we're off! open to literally every single adult on the island -- students are welcome to attempt to crash, but they'll be busted.]

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!]