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Dr.Cocktail and the Mystery of the MaxFunCon Retreat!

Welcome to Dr.Cocktail’s sojourn to the first annual MaxFunCon, a retreat sponsored by MaximumFun.org, a multinational training ground for the Tripartite Commission and haven for new media magnates and thinky types. As for the retreat itself... Three Days! Workshops! Crafts! Compliant Web Coding! Funny Business! Girls & Boys! Twittering! Metafiltering! Old Mountaintop Hunting Lodge! Fog! Alcohol! No supervision except by mutual enablers like Jesse Thorn, Merlin Mann, John Hodgman, Kasper Hauser, and Jonathan Coulter! What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

         

So there Doc was, the treacherous, narrow, winding, foggy mountain road now just a grim memory. He surveyed the mouldering manse. I smell trouble, he thought as he began removing the emergency hooch from his car. And having thought the thought, through the mist he spotted Jesse "Kingpin" Thorne.

Doc’s first order of business was to get the hooch to the bar upstairs. It was early, just the way he liked it; no crowds, no one running interference...yet. A few minutes later, Doc surveyed the bar; it would work just fine, he thought as he began pulling out flasks and beakers and graduates and retorts. Where was that damned bunsen burner, he fretted. As others in the employ of the Kingpin buzzed around, Doc set about to make his specialty: a one hundred and sixteen year old punch recipe - Columbian Punch. Dammit! Where had the time gone? The punch was ready and on ice but the party guests were already filtering in. There was no time to change into his monkey suit. If he heard one hobo crack, Doc thought, somebody was going to get a pop in the beezer. As it played out, everyone liked the punch so much by the end of the evening there was just fruit drying in the bottom of the bowls. Some of the hard cases figured out the the stuff in the vat tasted stronger and began to order the “special stuff”. Who'd have thought that the Champagne would dilute the hooch too much for these daredevils? The night ended with Doc retiring to his cabin in exhausted solitude as the others all headed out to make “s’mores” whatever heinousness that was code for.


Next day was the impending arrival of the evil mastermind, John “Mr. Mind” Hodgman. Here he is at the podium, lathering up the crowd. And here he is grasping alcoholic products. And here he is continuing to clutch hooch.

Here is Lord Hodgman consuming booze from a pass-around bottle.
Well, actually it was Malört, but the uninitiated often mistake it for potable alcohol.

MaxFunCon guests attended seminars, attic theatre, melodramas, workshops, and squirrel-skinning lessons.

Attendees dined on sumptuous vittles in a large room that looked unnervingly like the mess hall on the HMS Bounty.

Doc gave two seminars entitled “10 Things You Don’t Know About Cocktails” but he forgot some of the ten things and the whole thing just degenerated into a discussion of projectile vomiting and who had the best alcohol poisoning story.

Ibid.

Later that evening, Doc mixed approximately 300 Aviation Cocktails and La Floridita Daiquiris. First shot: Doc had mixed a couple. Second shot: Doc had mixed a couple hundred. Third shot: The afterparty: crazy-good single malt Scotch and awesome babes like this one.

Important note: These photographs were thieved from various and sundry MaxFunCon attendees. Thanks in advance!