R16 61 It Wasn't a Damn Party Until

Still in that one spot 

High Point: we went to the bar and we got the dance party started!

The bar where we had had our beaver spat was called the Copper Lattern, and out back was the dance party, so that is where we tromped. There were a few people back there but it was mostly volunteers waiting for the party to arrive. 

Hot tip: the party never arrives. You make the party! Whoop! So that is what we did. First things first (I'm a realist). We had to fix the music. The "dj" up on the stairs was doing a terrible job. He didn't seem to have a clue about what ragbraiers (aka us) like. So Steven and Pochy took control of the situation. They marched up there, and while Steven was sweet talking, Pochy plugged her phone into the DJ stand and put on her play list. 

Hey Mister DJ, you're doing it wrong. 

Much better. 

Then we had to sacrifice a virgin: Bandit, you're up. We dropped her in the middle of a pack of manthers and never looked back. 

Like a cute little bunny in the forest

Good, great! 

And then we danced, much to the delight of ourselves and the people in the beer garden, though not to the delight of the Mayor, who doesn't like to dance (if your friends don't dance...), and El Cap, who was still grumpy. 

Long beavers doing a dance

Check out the shirt on the guy behind me. Kindred. 

Having fun. Having fun. Having fun. Not having fun. 

But when you drink all the beers, and we drank a lot of them, well, then nature calls. And we went to answer. Unfortunately, we weren't the only beavers on the line.