The first thing Phil did was call the rest of the AROB group and invite them to the New Year's Eve party. "I've already made plans for a big bash here," Jil groused. "I already put a keg of beer on ice," Bob bellowed. "I don't do New Year's Eve," Ron protested. "Get your asses over here," ordered Phil, "I know there's an O.U.T.R.A.G.E. at your disposal, and it's only a three-hour flight. I'll have John and Christine's limos pick you up at the airport. And bring the rest of the gang." In less than an hour, Jil had rounded up all the O.U.T.R.A.G.E. teams and strongly suggested they drop whatever they were doing, where ever they were, and make a bee line for the "Double B" in central Iowa, near Story City, just north of Des Moines on I-35. "Just get there," Jil lamented, "Phil will throw a hissy-fit if we don't show up." By 8:00 p.m. on Wednesday, December 31, most of the group had arrived in Iowa, all dressed up for what Phil promised would be a "a preposterous pig-out of a party". Before six o'clock in the morning, he already had giant smokers slow-cooking his prime swine. He was already chilling his prime wines. The "Double B" crews were busy setting up tents, portable heaters, tables and chairs. Bob Cowles was taking care of the electrical and plumbing necessities. Bobby and Lovee were helping Boo and Jo prepare vats of potato salad, corned beef and cabbage, mashed potatoes and gravy, hams, bar-b-qued chickens, and God-knows-what-else. While Janie fetted over the hors-d'oeuvres, "Hot" Donna helped decorate the farm - inside and out. Mike had been sent south to nearby Ames, Iowa to secure a truckload of booze, beer and champagne. "If they don't have enough," Phil ordered, "go to Des Moines. Just don't come back with less than a truck full or alcohol!" Areas of the farm that had been muddied by recent wet snows were being cleared; driveways were being treated to new gravel; sleeping quarters were being readied, anticipating that dozens of people would have to 'sleep it off' before heading home.
Meanwhile, Christine and her girls were preparing party favors and making a free garland lei that would be given away with each free lay. All the girls had agreed that it was in "the spirit of the season" to give away their charms for this once-in-a-lifetime special occasion. John had gone off to a far corner of the farm to help Phil dig out some equipment and supplies. No one noticed that they'd taken their own personal flasks with them; when they didn't return for hours, Janie sent out a 'search-and-rescue' team. As Janie was afraid of, the 107-proof Weller's they'd taken along for their journey had been consumed in just a few short swigs. John and Phil were 'warming' themselves by the 'fire' which they'd started with their cigarette butts. Failing, of course, to notice that the fire had become an inferno, the two had were reclining on bails of hay as an outbuilding the size of a barn burned to the ground. When the 'rescue team' arrived, Phil barked, "Did you guys bring any marshmallows?" In what resembled his best Homer Simpson impression, Phil crooned, "Ooooooh, warm......." It was only then that two of Christine's 'girls' crawled out from behind the amply-stacked hay bails. Amply-stacked themselves, the two young pretties adjusted their bras, shifted their blouses, and stumbled over the haystacks, then proceeded to fall flatly on the ground, face-first into Iowan farmland that had certainly seen its fair share of 'fertilizer', compliments of the hundreds of pigs that roamed the property. Phil, ever the socially-correct gentleman, asked, "Have you met Julie and Louisa?" News spread back to Christine's bungalows quickly. Needless to say, Christine was not pleased. But, no harm done....there was too much work to do, and the party was about to get started.
Food, booze, and debauchery. What more could you ask for on New Year's Eve?? While Phil took a 'nap', John partied as if he hadn't had a drink in six years (instead of six hours). Jil, Doc, Bob, Cher, Lynn, Dana, Michelle, Connie, Chris, Hammy, Lynn, Suzan, Clem, Sally, Ryan, Ron, and a whole hoard of other O.U.T.R.A.G.E. team members had managed to make it to Iowa. At twenty minutes before midnight, Janie and Ron managed to wake Phil so that he - as the party's host - could toast in the new year. He held a glass of Wild Turkey high in his right hand and slurred, "Happy 2009 everybody! May we all prosper and enjoy whatever the hell the New Year brings. I love you guys; thanks for coming...well, breathing heavy...well, I mean, getting here. Hell, you know what I mean. I'm glad you're all here, and I mean that from the heart of my bottom!" With that he turned sharply, lowered his winter slacks, mooned the drunken crowd and let one rip.
I guess it's one way to start a new year.