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Date:    Mar  5 16:37
From:    firebird
Subject: The Four Levels of a Successful Party.
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For Khisanth...that fine piece of meat!

- Festivity Level One -

Your guests are sitting around chatting, nibbling the party food, 
sipping their drinks. They are admiring your Christmas tree ornaments 
and stand around the piano singing carols.

- Festivity Level Two -

Your guests are talking loudly, occasionally to one another. They are 
wolfing down the food, gulping their drinks, rearranging your Christmas 
ornaments and sitting on the piano singing "I Gotta Be Me."

- Festivity Level Three -

Your guests are holding conversations with inanimate objects, gulping 
other peoples' drinks, wolfing down Christmas ornaments and dancing 
around the piano shouting the words to "I Can't Get No Satisfaction". 

- Festivity Level Four -

Your guests, food smeared across their naked bodies, are capering around 
the burning Christmas tree in some unholy ritual. The piano is missing.

Unless you rent your home, or own heavy firearms, you generally don't 
want your parties operating above Level Three. The true test of party 
success, however, is whether or not the police arrive. If they do 
arrive, your job as host is to see that they don't arrest anyone. If 
they are intent on arresting someone, your job is to see that it isn't 
you. Following is an example of how to successfully handle
this situation.

Police: "We've come in response to the complaints."

You: "Complaints? It isn't about the drugs, is it?"

Police: "No, sir, not drugs."

You: "The guns, then? They're complaining about the guns?"

Police: "No, sir. It's about the noise."

You: "Oh, that's all right then. 'Cause there sure aren't any guns or 
drugs here, heh heh."

[An explosion sounds somewhere behind you]

You: "Or fireworks either! The neighbors complained, did they?"

Police: "No, sir. The neighbors all fled inland hours ago. The recent 
complaints have come from Kansas."

[At this point a Volkswagen Bug, painted in various arcane symbols, 
roars out of the living room, down the hall past you and the policemen, 
out into the front yard and into the nearest tree. Eight naked bodies 
tumble out, moaning.]

You: "There, you see? It's winding down already."


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