After last year’s bizarre but wildly successful Alligators In The Sewer staff Halloween party, Norm decided that this year’s event would not involve such a long drive. No lengthy treks through the tick-filled woods of Wisconsin just to drink warm beer at Norm’s dilapidated farmhouse. In fact, we decided (unanimously) that the 2nd annual celebration of our favorite holiday should be held at AITS headquarters.

There was just one catch. The venue was not available.

It appears that cockroaches had invaded the building, which we alone occupy. More than a year of snacking and drinking in the news room had taken its toll, and now hordes of la cucaracha had taken up residency, lured by the aroma of orange Cheetos dust and spilled beer. Bug the Cat couldn’t keep up with the burgeoning insect population. Norm finally called in an exterminator, who set off a number of industrial-strength bug bombs, and thanks to a good wifi signal we were all relegated to doing our writing on laptops while sitting in our cars parked out back. Bug and Weather Dog are now enjoying a couple days’ stay at Maynard’s house until it’s safe for us all to return to HQ.

So, what to do about a party spot? With every neighborhood juke-joint dive and flea-bag motel already booked solid, Norm was forced to be creative. Never one to shy away from a good deal, Norm got his hands on a steel shipping container, on loan from one of his sketchy associates in the warehouse district. Norm’s friend even delivered the hulking, 20 foot long box, dropping it off in our back lot with a loud thud early one morning.

We all just stood there in the back doorway of HQ, with gaping mouths and puzzled looks on our faces. Nobody uttered a word. Until Norm shot off his mouth.

“This is the perfect party location,” boasted our senior editor, obviously pleased with his serendipitous find. “People live in these things, you know! There are even condos out there made from stacks of these boxes. If it’s good enough for them to stay in 24/7, it’s good enough for us to spend a few inebriated hours!”

And so, ya’ work with what ya’ got. The perfect recession-era party place. We hope no one is claustrophobic.

“Alright, I’m on board…as long as you don’t bring your fucking boombox this time,” snarled Tina, after looking over the ugly-ass green box sitting in the gravel lot. “Your shitty music gives us headaches, and we really don’t want that dreck echoing off these metal walls.”

“Fine! Everybody bring iPods,” said Norm, with a whipped puppy dog look on his face. “Listen to whatever you want and keep it to yourselves then!”

“It’s kinda stuffy in here,” shouted Maynard, as he inspected the interior of the metal monstrosity. “I think we’ll need lots of beer to stay cool.”

“And no costumes this time,” chimed Gordy. “Let’s just concentrate our energy on drinkin’ this time.”

“How about concentrating some energy on washing that greasy mop of hair once in a while,” taunted Tina, jabbing Gordy with her elbow. “Scrub up, dude, we don’t need a fire hazard while we’re packed like sardines inside that fugly metal crate.”

“OK, it’s no costumes, no ’80s music and lots of beer then,” said Norm.

“For the win!,” shouted the group in unison, as if on cue.

After some planning (though not much) and a run to the liquor store around the corner, invitations were sent out to a few friends of AITS. On Halloween night, the small crowd started assembling in our parking lot. A few pulled in, gave one look at our sweet metallic party digs, and quickly sped off. You should have seen the expressions on their faces as they were leaving!

But the AITS crew and a few other brave souls made this party-in-a-box happen. It didn’t hurt that Norm brought ample supplies of liquid refreshment this year. Budweiser. And cold this time. Munchies too - party mix and two big bags of Cheetos! Our madhouse night just started off on the right note. What more could we ask for 100 bucks?

Gordy propped the massive door open with a brick and the low-budget fun commenced. Here is a synopsis of some of the highlights from that night:

• Norm spent the majority of the evening yelling like a lunatic and laughing maniacally. At who or what, we’re not quite sure, though the nearly full moon likely played a role. We tune him out anyway. Good thing the box is somewhat soundproof. Don’t want the neighbors calling the cops…again. The drunker Norm got, the more his ranting sounded like gargling. It amused us all.
• Maynard accidentally bumped the door shut while stepping out to take a leak. Twice. It took him a few minutes to figure out the latch, while numerous profanity-laced shouts emanated from the trapped occupants inside.
• Gordy made a sly remark to Tina, and immediately got his ass handed to him. She bitch-slapped him into next week. There are now a couple of new dents in the sheet metal walls…and in Gordy’s noggin. Don’t mess with that girl.
• Bill the Weather Dog wolfed down almost all of the party mix before anyone noticed and could stop him. Immediately afterward, he dropped a ginormous deuce on the floor - a real tail-pumper. Good thing Maynard was there to clean up. And good thing we still had the 2 bags of Cheetos.
• We ran out of said Cheetos fifteen minutes later and phoned in some pizza. After spending a good 5 minutes on the phone explaining to the pizzeria dude that our delivery order to “a huge green metal box out back” really was legit, our ‘za was soon on its way. The delivery guy actually found us and we gave him a cold Bud and a nice tip for his troubles.
• Phil showed up two hours late, carrying a hand-held police scanner. He promptly poured three beers down his throat in rapid succession, then left in a rush, instructing everyone, “I was never here…OK?”
• Just about every party guest managed to accidentally step on Bug’s tail at some time (it was really cramped in there, after all). Each unfortunate guest received a fresh set of claw marks in their legs to show for it.
• Nobody threw up or passed out, no one got seriously hurt, no undergarments were found strewn about on the floor and no one ended up in jail. In other words, it was a rather lame party.

Overall, not a half-bad Halloween. Norm’s already talking about next year’s event. The rest of us are more concerned with our hangovers and how much longer we’ll have to keep looking at that ridiculous steel box sitting in our back lot.

Here’s hoping that your Halloween bash was at least as fun.