Cool Cops

The Marion County Police Department, in an effort to improve their approval ratings among the key 18-35 demographic began to bust into parties not to break them up, but to crash them. At first, their efforts met with failure. After all, most parties, or at least most good parties, see people running for the hills at the first sign of those flashing lights. By the time the police made it up the drive, only two or three people remained, and only rarely were those people conscious. Still, they persisted. They made small changes to their approach . Instead of saying “Who has drugs?” they would ask “Who has some drugs?” No longer did they say the music was too loud. Rather, they would ask if the music was loud enough. They made beer runs in record time. They replaced sirens with dubstep, and suddenly instead of driving up in a cop cruiser, it's like they were a rolling rave. They carried six-packs instead of six-shooters. They learned to DJ and dance and mix drinks. They loaned out handcuffs to people feeling frisky. In the end, it worked. For the first time in history, police had a record 89% approval rating among teens and twenty-somethings.

Excited at having succeeded beyond their wildest dreams, the police set out to use their new found influence to tell kids about the dangers of drugs, binge drinking, hooliganism, and other unsafe behaviors. These efforts failed, however, as their target audience had been told since birth not to give in to peer pressure. To prevent Operation: Cool Cops from being a total wash, the MCPD revamped their plans, and Operation: In Like Flynn resulted in the largest bust of minor drug traffickers, under aged drinkers, and drunk drivers in state history.

- Originally mailed to T. Switzer from Biloxi, Mississippi

Corona Piñatas

“Every adult deep down wants to be a kid again,” Marilyn Stephens would always say. This philosophy ultimately led her to open her own party planners, Inner Child Party Services. They had many of the usual children's affairs, bouncy houses, slip-n-slides, and the like, but with more alcohol. The ice cream was Bailey's and Kahlua flavored, and the cake was Guinness chocolate. That which didn't translate directly, she would often retheme. Instead of clowns and Spider-Man, entertainers would show up dressed as Donald Draper or Leelo Dallas. Pin the Tail on the Donkey, for the sake of decency, involved sticking other body parts on other things. Musical chairs was likewise made more interesting and adult themed. For the most part, her party planning business was a huge success, though she almost lost it all when she first introduced piñatas. For the longest time, she puzzled over what to stuff them with, before settling on an amusing recursion. What better thing to stuff a Corona piñata with than bottles of Corona? Fortunately, the alcohol instantly disinfected the many wounds from all the broken glass.

- Originally mailed to C. Nowell in Newport News, Virginia

Music Video Girl

She lived her life like a music video, backlit and out of focus. She would stand up at inopportune times and sing her feelings at the top of her lungs. She would trash wherever she was to show how much angst she had inside. She was a woman who lived without consequences, and why not? People in rock videos never had to answer to anybody. There were those who called her behavior mad, but what did she care? Every moment was a rockstar moment, and just like her MTV inspirations, she was able to solve all of her problems in five minutes or fewer.

- Originally mailed to S. Sartin in Atlanta, Georgia  

Party Time Express

Charles Lambert, though much maligned at seven p.m., was the undisputed king of the after party. Early on, when he would show up at shindigs with the Party Time Express, everyone laughed and teased. “Where are the clowns?” they'd ask, or “When do we bob for apples, grandpa?” He got no respect until nine at the earliest.

But once the libations started flowing, once the party was good and hopping and everyone was sauced like pasta, they lined up beer in hand a whooping at the top of their lungs to ride his bright and colorful train. He'd drive them everywhere, around the yard, through the kitchen, or down to the corner store for a beer run. Once people loosened up and finally remembered they were there to forget they were adults for awhile, then the world was his oyster. His primary colored, drunk friend filled oyster.

- Originally mailed to A. Perkins of New Orleans, Louisiana