Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party. But it depends on whether you consider the party of the first part or the party of the second part after getting out the current issue of the Lampoon. It was pretty gay the night we put the last page of the old rag to bed. The whole gang returned from Bar Harbor--without tans, of course, except for Joe Klowernig who somehow always managed to do the wrong things. Not that he wasn't a nice guy, but Joe somehow didn't seem to fit in. As the party went along (I guess we'd call it the party of the third part by then seeing it was getting on in the evening), so did Joe. It got so bad that we had to coax him off the Ibis where he had been dropping martinis on people and passing cars below. Not that there was anything wrong about dropping things from the Ibis, but these were the particularly good martinis that Bill Matterhorn had made while in England.

About this time Frank Agamonte began dragging Barbara Bungay around the tower by her long golden tresses. We knew immediately she was drunk by the way she threw her ams about and flailed her legs. After a while Frank got tired, and let Barbara go. She started to crawl toward the kitchen. We let her go. Joe by this time was running around being the life of the party by trying to break chairs over Gretchen Flyspec's head. Just then Gretchen got a brilliant idea. We all jumped Joe and put him under the coach. We then sat on the couch so Joe couldn't get out. Frank Agamonte went into the kitchen and found Barbara on the dinette table. He dragged her back by her thinning hair and put her in the big closet in the hall. She fought for a half hour but Frank and Bill and Tom were stronger. Meanwhile, Joe was having a great time lighting everyone's pant legs on fire. Then we dragged Joe from under the couch and six of us put him in the closet with Barbara. We put a wooden chair under the doorknob and then the hall bureau behind it. At first they pounded on the door and yelled, but after an hour or so they got very quiet outside of an occasional mumble or scream.

Then the party really got going and we kind of forgot about Joe and Barbara for a while. About nine in the morning, when things were breaking up, someone, I think it was Bill, suggested we let Barbara and Joe out. But Frank laughed and said that Barbara and Joe certainly knew what a dark closet was for and we ought to leave them alone. There was no argument against this and by then we were all at Albiani's eating jello.

During the week since the party I haven't seen either Joe or Barbara, which seems rather peculiar seeing that Joe and Barbara used to eat lunch with the crowd every day. This kind of bothers me, because, well, you know, it is rather unusual. I think sometime soon I better drop up to the Poon. I hope I remember to go take a look at that closet door sometime. I wonder if I can move that bureau because it is awfully heavy. --GAS