<p>Disclaimer: The following is posted as an historical account to illustrate how not to behave socially. Similar behaviors are not encouraged by the OP.</p>
<p>The OP will not entertain or engage in discussions disparaging the described act, the mind set or psychology behind it, or the actual mechanics involved.</p>
<p>Kudos, if any, may be sent via PM if you wish to remain anonymous.</p>
<p>Those with potentially weak stomachs are advised not to read further.</p>
<p>Proceed at your own discretion.</p>
<p>We actually tried this on two occasions… once at a small, fairly private party to perfect the operational staging and method of delivery. After tweaking the delivery appartus, assigning the appropriate parts, and doing a few “dry” runs we had worked out enough of the kinks to make the plan operational.</p>
<p>There were a group of 6 or eight of us involved, both male and female. We had a biological sister of one of our group who was a member of a sorority. The sorority had just moved into an off-campus rented house, and had acquired a huge trestle table with bench seating for meal service… perfect for our plan.</p>
<p>Our group of eight began arriving separately in two’s and three’s, mingling with the other party goers. Within an hour all the operational team had arrived. The last to enter was our engineering genius. Great academically, all-american handsome, very personable and well liked by everyone, not a partier or known as a drinker.</p>
<p>He stumbled in the door, swilling from what was now a half empty bottle of Smirnoff’s. Staggering from girl to girl, he politely planted a kiss on the forehead of each, profusely apologizing for his out of character behavior while explaining that that his fiancee had just broken off their engagement.</p>
<p>His speech became progessively more slurred as he made the rounds, stumbling occaisionally, bumping into furniture, and was at that point quite inebriated.</p>
<p>Our “group” had begun to express increasing concern for his behavior, and because he had such a good reputation, many of the other party goers were concerned as well. In an effort to calm him, one of us relieved him of the vodka bottle (with only an inch remaining), and two of us guided him to the head seat of the trestle table. Our group positioned ourselves as close to him as possible, seated at the benches on opposing sides of the table.</p>
<p>Out of concern, many of the other party-goers had also gathered around. One of the sorority sisters began brewing coffee for him.</p>
<p>He began to burp. Then dry heave. He rolled his eyes, bent forward on the table… all eyes were on him now. In an instant, the first two feet of the table was covered in vomit.</p>
<p>With split second timing, our group began to fight for and consume the foul looking discharge on the table. </p>
<p>The discharge was a canned beef stew. The vodka bottle contained water, with just enough alcohol left to eliminate suspicion. The delivery method was a well concealed hot water bottle supplemented with a jury-rigged air bladder. I will not further divulge the engineering… I’m sure our bright CC er’s can make their own enhancements and modifications.</p>
<p>Our social committments as a group after that became fairly one-sided. Either we were avoided like the plague, or invited as guests of honor for those wishing an encore.</p>
<p>As Al Pacino says to Diane Keaton in the Godfather, “That’s a true story Kate.”</p>