And One for Things Yet to Come

And One for Things Yet to Come

This was our typical day in Amsterdam.  First, we went to an amazing restaurant called Wok to Walk.  The menu works like this:

            You end up getting a shit-ton of amazing food.  We only ever ordered things with teriyaki because their teriyaki sauce was epically delicious.  After Wok to Walk, we sat around and had beer in a coffeeshop.  After a few hours, we went to a place called “Pancakes!”  I had a Dutch pancake with chocolate followed by American pancakes with maple syrup.  Will had American pancakes with syrup and bacon. 

            It was about then that we realized all we wanted to do in Amsterdam was eat, drink, sit around, and bro out.  After Pancakes!, we went and had another beer or two at a different coffeeshop.  Eventually, it was time for dinner.  Our dinner menu?  WOK TO WALK.  It’s so good. 

            We got back to our tent at like 3 or 4 or something.  It was raining forever.  First, we finished watching Skyline in the tent.  That movie is dumb.  I love bad sci-fi / horror movies, but it was just…so bad.  It wasn’t even funny-bad.  It was just terrible.  We watched half of The Rite with Anthony Hopkins.  My laptop ran out of battery part way through.

Will’s Corner

            Meow.

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Dear Joe,

            We’re walk to your wok any day.

Love,

Will and Andy

And One for Señor Drogas (x6)

And One for Señor Drogas (x6)

            For breakfast, Will grabbed some baked goods from the Back Factory.  I was a bit too hungry for just baked goods, so I got an entire pizza for myself.  It was tasty.  Amsterdam is super expensive, so Will and I planned to stay at a campsite for ¾ of our nights in Amsterdam. 

            When we got into Amsterdam, we hopped on a ferry that landed us about 2km from the campsite.  We hiked over and checked in.  It was about twice the price we were expecting, and we had to buy a tent.  We got one second-hand from them for a reasonable price.  After pitching the tent, Will and I grabbed a four day transportation pass and took a bus into town.

            If you ever go to Amsterdam, know this: you need to not only check in with your transport pass, but also check out.  It doesn’t matter if it’s a subway, tram, or bus.  If you don’t check out, it voids your card.  Don’t forget it!

            As a sidenote, if you’ve ever played The Sims, Dutch sounds exactly like Simmglish.  I don’t speak German, but when I hear German speech, I understand that words are being said – it sounds like a language.  When I hear Dutch, it just sounds like gibberish.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s great.  The Dutch sound super excited and happy about EVERYTHING!  Some guy gave me directions on a bus, and his accent/tone of voice made it sound like he was so…happy for me.  I’ll put the subtext from his accent in brackets:

            “You’re going to get on the (whatever)straat, [and you’re going to have a great time].  Then, you’ll take a left, [and it’s going to be awesome].  You’ll then be on the Prinsengracht, [and you’re going to love it there].”  Seriously.  He sounded that excited for me.  Everything in my day was just going to be the best thing ever, and he was so happy to inform me of it.  Again, if you missed it, the stuff in brackets was the subtext from his accent / tone.  Dutch people are friendly.

            Once we got into town, we checked out the local coffeehouses and bars.  We had dinner at some point, but that’s not important.  What IS important is that we ended up at this place called Happy Bar (I think it was Happy Bar, at least).  We call it Elli’s bar.  Elli was our kiwi bartender.  She was great.  For my first drink, I had a Liquid Apple Pie.  Will had a couple caipiriñas.  I had a taste of his, and it was a damn good caipiriña.  Will and I ended up ordering a bunch of the things.

            While sitting at the bar, the dude next to me starts talking.  This guy was in his late 30s, wearing sunglasses in the dark bar.  I start chatting with him, and he starts rolling a huge joint.  His name was Bart, and he was ridiculous.  According to him, he made millions of dollars in the debt resettlement industry.  Bart was frequently spouting racist epithets and talking about “the ‘raris, bitch!” Yes, he called Ferraris “ ‘raris.”  He also wanted us to get into his business.  Bart claimed to be old, lazy, and way too rich.  However, he had a dialer back home, and all he wanted was a young guy with some drive to pick up the business and give him a little off the top. 

I am going to give a sample of what it was like talking to Bart.  I am going to quote him exactly.  If you are deeply offended by racist epithets, SKIP THIS SECTION.  You are warned, so no bitchin’.  Bart had conversations with us like this (note: his voice got higher and he started squeaking more as this went on):

Bart:  Make shit-tons of money, niggaaaaa!

Me:  I just wanna be a veterinarian.

Bart:  Fuck that shit, nigga!  We gonna get RARIS, niggaaaa!  Raris and bitches!  All the best drugs, nigga!  You WANT that shit?

Me:  Uh, I’ll be happy being a veterinarian.

Bart:  Will, what about you?

Will:  Nah, I’m good, I don’t need the money.

Bart:  You’ll get the RARIS and the whores, nigga!

Will:   I don’t need a Ferrari, my Ford works fine.

Bart:  Fuck that shit, nigga!   I wanted a Lamborghini, so I just threw down the money, cash, and it was in my driveway that day, niggaaaaa!

            The more this went on, the more Bart smoked and drank.  The more he smoked and drank, the higher his voice got, the more racist epithets he spouted, and the more his suddenly DEEP Tennessee accent came out. 

Bart:  Hey Will, you want a hit of this?

Will:  Nah, I don’t smoke.

Bart:  What the fuck, why not?

Will:  Well, the military asks if you’ve ever done recreational drugs over the age of 18 when you apply for OCS, and I don’t lie under oath. 

Bart:  So just lie, nigga!  Fuck America!

Me:  Uh, lying under oath isn’t cool.

Bart:  Fuck that shit, you can just join the regular army.

Will:  But then I earn like $20,000 less a year.

Bart:  I wanna take twenty grand, wipe my nuts with it, and *squeak* LIGHT THAT SHIT ON FIRE.

Will:  ……..Cool.

            I had a lot of trouble understanding Bart’s business scheme.  I now understand it, so I’ll explain.  You may find this boring, but talking about it took up most of our evening.  You’ll live. 

            Just to illustrate the point, I’m going to use easy, arbitrary numbers.  John Doe buys $10,000 worth of shit with his Visa card.  He is making minimum payments.  Bart calls him up and says, “Look, you’re paying minimums right now, right?  You’re never going to get out of debt that way.  For $1,000, I can make it so you only pay $5,000.  You can pay $5,000, right?  Good.  Now change your phone number.” 

            Bart then calls up Visa and says, “Okay, you’re never going to get in touch with him.  If you want any of your money, just accept $5,000.  You’ll get it.”  Now, credit card companies make a SHIT-TON of money.  Built into their business plan is expected loss from people who don’t pay.  However, they make so much money that they don’t care.  If they can get $5,000 soon, they’d rather have that.  It minimizes their losses.

            China then buys the debt from the credit card companies at like $0.40 to the dollar.  Visa would rather have a lump sum immediately than small payments, and it also guarantees that their loss gets minimized.  China takes a risk, but it’s a low risk.  For a possible $5,000, they’re only investing $2,000.  Good deal for China.  Visa has minimized its losses, John has halved his debt, and Bart has made $1,000.

            Now, you may be asking, what happened to the $5,000 that Visa said “Whatever” to?  It’s gone.  Poof!  Vanished!  There are 5,000 fewer U.S. dollars in the world.  Thus, the value of the dollar increases slightly.  So who gets fucked?  Pretty much everyone who has non-U.S. currency.  For China, John, Visa, and Bart to make some money, every person on Earth who has non-U.S. currency sacrifices a small fraction of a penny.  This loss is too small to be noticed, but the cumulative effect is that Bart, Visa, and China make millions, and John gets $5,000 of free shit. 

            When Bart left, we asked Elli if he was serious.  Apparently, he’s living at the nicest hotel in Amsterdam, and he just comes in every day to drink and smoke all day.  He also throws money around like crazy.  He was real, and he wanted Will and me to join in his multi-million dollar scheme.  Will and I weren’t interested.  I want to play with puppies and I guess he’d rather just blow shit up.

Will’s Corner

            You can’t really get by in the world without at least some use of money, but I don’t expect that I’ll ever need or even really particularly want to be a multi-millionare. I like to keep things simple and money just complicates shit.

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Dear Joe,

            Keep up the good work.  Just remember, we’re always watching.  Always.

Love,

Will and Andy

And One for the Old Way

And One for the Old Way

            Sadly, Will and I had pizza for breakfast.  We’re getting really sick of it.  The best thing about pizza is what makes it our curse.  Pizza is a cheap, delicious, and ubiquitous food.  This makes it awesome.  This also makes us have it too much.  We are desperate for a change of pace.

            It was raining in Berlin.  This is why we skipped Freiburg and Goslar.  We were hoping to camp in the woods / mountains (respectively), but the weather said it would rain every day.  We decided to check out Berlin’s Pergamonmuseum.  There was a fucking massive line outside.  Apparently, we’re not the only people clever enough to realize that a museum is a good rainy-day activity.  The nearby art museum also had a giant line.

            Unlike the Pergamonmuseum and the random art museum, the Deutsch History Museum right next door had no line at all.  Will and I got tickets.  The premise of the Deutsch History Museum is that you take a tour from primitive Germany (i.e., the Germanic tribes) all the way through German history to the fall of the Berlin Wall.  It was actually a very well done museum.  There were neat swords and whatnot, but also some random cool things:

Charlemagne with the Holy Hand Grenade 

Rifle with an ANTELOPE hammer 

 BIG.

            Yeah, that flak cannon was huge.  I had a picture with a dude standing under it for scale, but he kinda ruined the picture.  You see that seat on the side facing the camera, fairly low on the gun?  That’s where the gunner sits.  That’s up to my chest, and I’m 5’8” (1.73m).  Near the end of the museum, I lost my William.  It took me a while to find him again.

            The actual historical information in the museum was pretty cool.  They also had dioramas of old castles and villages.  The Renaissance section was pretty boring.  As Will put it, “not enough guns and shanks.”  There was a really cool section with propaganda from every country involved in WW2.  The American ones were hilarious. 

Not from America, but still hilarious. 

            For dinner, we had a nice change of pace.  We went to a Mextalian place (It was Mexican and Italian.  No, I don’t know why.).  Among other things, I had CORN!  I had been craving corn for a while.  After dinner, Will and I got our tickets to Amsterdam.  I hung out with Anna and Suzie for a bit (Suzie survived, by the way), then went back to the hostel. 

            Oh, and here's a chunk of the Berlin Wall.

Wall. 

Will’s Corner

            Mexican food is a win and a nice change of pace. I still prefer hanging out at the bar with the drunken German ‘bros’ (they have them here too) to clubs though.

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Dear Joe,

            With great power comes great responsibility.

Love,

Will and Andy

And One for Multi-lingual Europeans

And One for Multi-lingual Europeans

            Dear reader, there’s something I want to share with you.  I have a good friend named Paul.  I’ve known him since I was a young lad of 18.  When I was a freshman, he was kind of my mentor in the ways of College.  Sometimes, he would assume a German accent and say, “I advise you to vake up…ZE TIME IS NEIN!”  When Will and I got to Europe, we asked Paul to send us a recording of him saying this.  He did it within hours.  Every day so far in Germany, we’ve woken up at 09:00 to Paul saying that very phrase.  I set it as my alarm.  Usually, our dorm starts laughing whenever they hear it. 

Early in the day, we switched hostels.  We moved into a place called the Amstel House hostel.  It was nice.  For breakfast, the lady at the front recommended we go to a place called the Back Factory.  I think the name comes from Bäckerie, the German word for bakery (or something really close to that).  Surprise!  It’s a bakery.  Will and I had delicious baked goods, including a pretzel-croissant. 

            We couldn’t check in until like, 14:30 or something, so I decided to be productive.  My veterinary school said that I had to take and complete an online course in the ethical treatment of animals for biomedical research and teaching…before August 1^st (the day we get back from Europe).  I sat down and started reading.  A few hours later, I passed.  The course was really, really easy.  I think with some logic and a bit of luck you could pass.  A lot of questions were like:

Should you:

A)     Slaughter baby eagles every day forever.

B)    Use anesthesia or analgesics whenever possible to minimize suffering.

C)    Do major surgeries over and over on the same animal – without anesthesia.

D)    Punch a cat in the face.

However, you needed 17/20 to pass, so it’d take a little bit of luck on the procedural questions (e.g., what does organization X do?).  After that, I caught up on the blog.  I was like 12 entries behind (thanks, no internet hostels!). 

      Will and I had seen a Pizza Hut sign at the central train station, so we were very excited.  We wanted Pizza Hut buffet.  It’s infinite not-bad food for like 6 bucks.  We took two subways to get there, only to find that it was Pizza Hut Express – no buffet.  We were so sad. 

After that, Will went back to the hostel and hung out at the bar.  I went on a pub crawl.  The first person I met there was an American guy named Mike.  He started talking about guns (HE STARTED IT).  This was not surprising; he was from Texas.  He owns a whole closet. 

      While I was talking to Mike, a German girl named Anna bounced over and introduced herself.  She was from a small town in western Germany that I don’t remember the name of.  We talked about cool things, like history, and danced around.  Eventually, we learned that Anna’s friend, Suzie, had gotten way too drunk and wandered off with some Australian guy at least ten years her senior.

      Anna and I set off to find her.  The S-Bahn wasn’t exactly working, so we walked about a third the length of Berlin to get to Alexanderplatz (their hostel, commercial center of Berlin).  It was crazy.  I only knew where we were going about half the time.  It was an adventure!

Will’s Corner

            Apparently, I am forbidden from saying what should and must be said in this corner. You’ll just have to guess for yourself.

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Dear Joe,

            You know.  Yeaaah, you know.  You know all things.

Love,

Will and Andy 

And One for the 1+

And One for the 1+

            I finally opened the picture folder on my phone.  There, I found a lot of shit that I forgot to mention.  At the end of this entry, you will find a parade of shit that I forgot.  It goes all the way back to Dublin.  Yeah!

            Today, we went to the train station, put our bags in a locker, and headed off to Dachau.  Dachau was a concentration camp, not a death camp.  It was more memorial and education-oriented than Auschwitz-Birkenau, which was more of a “This is what it was like,” sort of deal.  You already know my opinions about pictures, so we’ll just move on to the next thing here.

            After Dachau, Will and I went to the Deutches Museum, a museum about human science and engineering.  There were lots of planes, boats, engines, tools, and so forth, from flint tools to particle accelerators. 

            At one point, we found ourselves in a magical wonderland.  It was all colorful and crazy. 

            The focus of the area was pharmaceuticals and the human body.  There was a giant pill.  Will insisted I try to take it.  I learned that I am not a snake. 

Not gonna happen. 

            We then went inside a giant model of a cell.  Will got scared by all the science.  He was confused. 

            In the optics area, there was a bunch of neat stuff.  I went inside a funhouse mirror.  If you look closely, you can see Will attacking me from behind.  It’s near the middle of the picture.

He came...from...BEHIND! 

            We also learned how Stormtrooper lasers work.  This explains why they can’t hit shit. 

            After the Deutches Museum, Will and I hopped on the train to Berlin.  On the train, we watched Munich, a film about the Mossad hunting down the dudes who planned / perpetrated the 1972 massacre of Israeli athletes at the Olympic games in Munich.  The movie is fairly critical of Mossad, but it also shows the reasoning behind why Golda Meir approved the mission.  It’s a pretty good flick; it was my third time watching it. 

            Eventually, we got to Berlin, checked into our hostel, grabbed some quick food, and passed the fuck out. 

            Lo, the picture parade of shit I forgot to mention and / or show pictures of!

Irish graffiti.  It was silly.  It has to be this big or you can't see the funny part.

Kitty lasers in the Kingfisher restaurant in St. Marcan 

Will DANCED on his birthday.  I forgot to mention this!

 Super-chic McDonalds for birthday cheeseburger.  

All European McDonalds are at LEAST this fancy.

Kitsch in Krakow started playing Swan Lake at one point. 

Yet it was still a rager.  This was just one room. 

Getting back from Kitsch kinda late at night.

European ads are hilarious. 

REALLY hilarious.

Will’s Corner

            I can haz cheezburger?

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Dear Joe,

            The only thing you have to fear is…nothing at all.

Love,

Will and Andy

And One for Plain Ketchup

And One for Plain Ketchup

            Today, we drank beer.  We drank a lot of beer.  Munich is famous for its many beer houses (Bräuhaus).  It is where Oktoberfest is held every year.  We decided to sample Munich’s many fine brews. 

            Before going to the beer places, we went to a Chinese place for lunch.  We were desperate for a change from pizza and pasta, the cheapest and most easily accessible non-McDonalds foods.  It was actually fucking phenomenal.  Real Chinese food in Munich, who knew?  We had a beer with it.  It was called Dunkel.  You can find beer descriptions in a table at the bottom of this blog entry, before Will’s Corner.  They’ll be easier to find that way.  Also, I like tables (SCIENCE!).

             After that, we went to our first Brauhaus, Weisses Brauhaus.  Here, we had a whole lot of beers.  We sat down next to a British expat, as we are wont to do.  We didn’t know that he was beforehand.  They just attract us, I guess.  Like magnets.  We chatted with him for a bit, and then he left.

            Lo and behold, more English speaking people joined us in our little corner of the brauhaus.  It was a bunch of Canadians, including one named Ozzy.  Ozzy was a tour guide who had lived pretty much everywhere, but currently lived in Munich.  He was super friendly.  He also immediately identified me as a Jew from New York.  This is strange; most people can’t place me.  Oddly enough, he couldn’t place Will, which disturbed Ozzy deeply.

            We talked with him for a while, and an American lady comes and asks if she can join us.  She’s pretty young looking, probably not old enough to have a child older than ten.  She puts her bag down and leaves.  A few minutes later, two girls join us, each about 20 years old.  They look completely unrelated (one’s blonde, one’s a red-head, and they have no features in common).  The lady then comes back, and she doesn’t look like either of them.  It turns out she’s their mother, and they’re both sisters.  What the fuck?  Ozzy, Will, and I were really confused.

            We had a few beers with them.  Will and the mom got along really well, talking about the military, history, and other stuff (I wasn’t really listening).  One of the two girls was going into animal/human physical therapy, so she and I nerded out about medicine.  It was fun.  Basically, we just kept drinking beer and hanging out.  All day. 

            At one point, a German couple started laughing at me.  I had ordered a super hoppy beer, and it came in a bottle.  The glass it came with was very small, but it came with a 0.5 liter bottle.  They asked, “Why is it so small?”  “Because it comes with a bottle of MORE!” I replied, showing them the bottle.  “Ahhhh.”  Good times.

Eventually, we left.  We had ordered one last beer, but the beer-maiden said that Ozzy had paid for it before we left (he had left about five minutes before).  We had no idea he had paid.  He’s a hero.  Will and I wandered around for a bit, then settled into an outdoor beer garden.  We each had one more beer and shared a pretzel. 

            After that beer garden, we started walking home.  Soon, we realized that we were hungry.  We realized that we were near an Italian place that Mr. Kindle recommended.  We sat down and an old German man came up to us.  He started talking in German.

Man:  (German German German)!

Me:  Uh…sprechen sie English?

Man:  Nein.

Me:  …Pale Italiano?

Man:  Si, un piccolo.

Me:  PERFETTO.

            He and I got along really well after that.  By “un piccolo,” he meant that he spoke it pretty much perfectly.  Will and I had the easiest time we’ve had ordering food and getting the check in a very long time.  Also, I am convinced that this dude lived in Italy for a while.  The food was fucking awesome.  It tasted like Italian food from Italy.  I had tagliatelle with some sort of crazy tomato sauce and fresh mozzarella cheese.  Will had fettucini bolognese. 

            After dinner, we went back to the hostel and fell asleep, happy and full.  BEER TABLE TIME! 

Table 1:  Beer!

Name	Who Drank It	Description
Dunkel (unknown brand)	Both of us	Dark, but doesn’t feel as heavy as the color would suggest.  Faint taste of a stout, but you can smell the stoutness.  Good with a meal, not at a bar.
Schneider Weisse Mein Blondes	Will	“Refreshing, like a dance in a summer breeze.”  Light blonde ale, standard.  Comparable to Shock Top.
Schneider Weisse Unser Original	Andy	“Full complexity of the genuine Bavarian wheat beer.  Great with hearty food.”  Medium body.  Tasty.
Schneider Weisse Mein Kristall.	Will	“Refreshing for body and soul with a delightful tingle.”  Heavily wheaty, small citrus flavor, light body.
Schneider Weisse Mein Hopfenweisse	Andy	“Hoppy fireworks.” Strong.  Medium body.  Super hoppy aftertaste, good hoppy flavor.
Tergernseer Hell	Will	“Malt-accented beer with a slight note of hops.  Classical south Bavarian pale lager from the Tergernseer Valley.”  Tastes like fucking Keystone.  Will’s own personal hell.  I confirmed the taste.
Bräugirgl Dunkel	Andy	“Chestnut colored beer from the Karmeliten Brauerei Straubing.  Malty, spicy specialty with fine roast flavors.”  You can taste the chestnut and the roast flavors.  Medium-heavy body.  Roasty aftertaste.  Good.
Aventinus Dunkel Hefeweissen	Both of us.	Strong, rich, medium-heavy body.  Spicy.
??????	Both of us.	???  We don’t remember.  It was that last one we had.

 Delicious German Keystone.

Will’s Corner

            Apparently, we’re like magnets for English-speaking people.  Miracles all up in these magnets.

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Dear Joe,

            Cocaine and Thai hookers.  Get it done.

Love,

Will and Andy

And One for Dragovich, Kravchenko, and Steiner (All Must Die)

And One for Dragovich, Kravchenko, and Steiner (All Must Die)

            We had run into these two Aussies from our hostel on the train from Krakow, and they were planning to spend the day in Prague.  We gave them some suggestions, including the firing range (that excited them).  I would like to clarify that it was the LAST thing I listed.  We’re not as gun-crazy as we probably sound.  Like Bob, these Aussies wanted to experience the novelty of shooting with Americans.  Eager to please, we agreed to join them and told them to meet us at the range at noon.  I gave them directions.

We got into Prague at like 07:00.  I was very sleepy and very cranky.  We left our bags at the luggage storage place in the train station and went to the hostel.  Will recovered his glasses and I passed out on the couch for an hour.  Will played Pocket Frogs while I slept.  I think I got the better end of that deal.  He disagrees. 

            On our way out of the hostel, we were turning a corner, passing some construction stuff.  We were on one side of a construction fence, talking about Pokémon.  On the other side of the fence was some guy.  We never saw him, but his accent was Arab (don’t ask which country, we don’t know).  Once we’re a little bit past us, he yells, “Go fight in Afghanistan!  KILLERS!  …Killers!”  I didn’t understand what he said right away, but Will burst out laughing for a number of reasons.  The primary reason is that he probably will.

             After our fun adventures with that random guy, we went to the train station and checked out train times to Münich, our next stop.  Then, we headed to the firing range, where we quickly learned that they open at 14:00.  We waited for the Aussies for 40 minutes.  They never showed.  I never told them which side of the subway station to come out of, but if you came out the wrong side, my directions would have made no sense.  I think they got lost.  Disheartened, Will and I went to get lunch at Green Tomatoes.  I had delicious gnocchi, and Will had risotto.

            After lunch, we went to the train station.  I found a currency exchange and traded in for Euros, since we’re returning to Western Europe.  We had a couple of hours, so we sat down in the train station and started writing blog entries.  I’ve been REALLY far behind.  Since we’re currently sitting on a train to Münich with two non-English-speaking girls who are going on in a language that I don’t recognize, I might as well explain how the blog writing works.  Nothing better to do.  This thing gets in at like 23:00 (it’s 19:04, and I’ve been writing for about three hours).

            After a day is over, if I don’t write a blog entry immediately, I put notes into my little blue notebook.  Will helps me remember stuff that I forget, throws out suggestions, and proofreads.  He doesn’t actually write anything.  The only thing Will actually writes is Will’s Corner.  Go figure.  We do our Inspirational Message to Joe together. 

            The titling system is a secret, but it’s not random.  There are rules that govern its mysteries.

            Okay, so we get into Munich, buy subway tickets, and head to our hostel.  We got slightly lost, but we made it.  It was the biggest hostel ever.  We ordered a pizza.  This is more difficult than you’d think.  The guy was yelling at me in German on the phone, I was going “What are you saying?  I don’t understand!”  This only made him more insistent.  I decided to just start giving him information that I usually give to pizza places.  This seemed to appease him. 

            We got up to our room.  It was a pretty standard six bed dorm, nice and clean.  One thing about it sucked: the bathroom.  There was a leak in the pipe, and it created a lake in the bathroom.  There was nowhere for it to drain, only a place for it to stagnate.  It was filled with chick-hair and dirt.  It sucked.

Will’s Corner

            The views and opinions expressed in this blog do not in any way represent those of the American Government. Or any sane people, for that matter.

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Dear Joe,

            You are like a hybrid species of a Party Opossum and a Rage Raccoon.  You are at the top of the Party Chain.

Love,

Will and Andy