Week Fourteen: April Fish Party

Blogger's Note: I'm probably going overboard (no pun intended) by starting this entry off with a French pun that I have to explain. But it's such a good joke, I'll forge ahead. The sign below this poor crossed-out fish means, for fishermen, that the only fishing allowed in the pond here is if you're standing on the shore. No rowboats and such. The pun here is that "laisse," which means shore in this context, can also mean "leash" in other contexts. So one could read the sign that fish are not allowed unless they're leashed. So laugh through your nose like a good Frenchman and get on with the April Fish Party. Voici:

Simple Simon went a-fishin'
For to catch a whale,
but all the water he could find
was in his mother's pail.

We're going fishin' Friday night
for to catch a sucker
at eight bells come to Paul's house
in your best bib and tucker.

Cokesbury, right off, lets you know this is a down-home, ripely American party, where you won't be forced to associate with anything effeminate beyond ladies squirming at the thought of baiting a hook or anything French whatsoever. Come in your bib and tucker, they advise. This could mean just about anything. People intent on a fishing expedition might come in their waders and flannels. Others might come in top-coats and such. A few of the more effeminate might come in the Jane Austen version of bib-and-tucker as well. Make sure to write their names down and remember not to invite them to the next party.

Oh yeah. Make sure you hold this at Paul's house.

First things first:

Trading fish. Cut out some small paper fisha nd give each guest ten. ANy time during the evening that one guest can April Fool any other guest, that one must give him a fish. Any time during the evening that anyone says or does something funny that makes other laugh, those who laugh must give him a fish.

This is a very important part of the party, as these fish will loom large throughout the rest of the evening and prove that those ninnies who invented Linden Dollars are not the first ones to conceive of a stupid way to monetize useless activity. Or so Cokesbury intimates. But they're never mentioned again. Better hope your guests understood your explanation the first time, or they'll go home with all these paper fish in their pockets wondering what the hell is wrong with you.

Now, for the first game. Oh, this is a good one:

Parts of a fish. Give each guest the following parts of a fish scrambled on a sheet of paper. These should either be mimeographed or done on the typewriter with carbon copies:

1. Ahde. Head.
2. Lait. Tail.
3. Ifsn. Fins.
4. Kocnabeb. Backbone.
5. Isbr. Ribs.
6. Lacecs. Scales.
7. Ehtet. Teeth.
8. Syee. Eyes.
9. Ligsl. Gills.
10. Umtoh. Mouth.
11. Miks. Skin.

A booby prize of a toy fish might be given to the one who gets done last, or a real prize to the one who finishes first, or it might be better to have all the others give one of their fish to the one who finishes first.

I thought of a really fun way to liven this up. Get a real fish and, Operation-like, require that those who unscramble the words also put the appropriate fish part back in place. That would make this party manly American and take the French curse completely off it.

If that's not fun enough, here's one that's bound to entertain:

Kinds of fish. Give guests a blank sheet of paper and a pencil, and tell them they have five minutes in which to write the names of fish. Give a prize to the one who has the largest fish. Ther are about eight hundred kids of fish. It is easy to write the names of forty or fifty in ten minutes time.

Don't worry if youre circle of friends isn't populate with icthyologists. Cokesbury has a boffo twist to this game that will drive the anal-retentives (you have their names from past parties; make sure to invite them in abundance) absolutely bonkers:

You will find that there will be a lot of variation in this. One player in a party we attended, in playin this game, wrote Kingfish, Queenfish, Princefish, Bluefish, Redfish, Blackfish, Brownfish, et cetera. ANother player whote all the names of the fish he could think of, and then he wrote Papa Fish, Mamma FIsh, Baby Fish, Fried Fish, Boiled FIsh, Baked Fish, et cetera. When these lists were read they caused much merriment.

That's a screamer, right! Right? Well, beats Pictionary, at least.

Now, remember how at the past April Fools-themed party, you got a lot of mileage out of making your guests play with your rubbish. Hope they're prepared for a second round of the Garbage Can Tango:

April Fish Menu. Have the following menu printed on slips of paper and passed out to the guests. They are allowed to select any three of the articles on the menu for their refreshments. Of course this is only an April Fool refreshment menu, and after this has been served the regular refreshments will be served. Bring in the three articles selected on small plates. It will e necessary for each guest to write his name on the menu after he has underscored what he wishes, so those in charge will know to hwom to return the menu and whoa re to be served the different articles.

Menu

Regular Chicken Dinner (Mixed cracked grain, a chicken dinner)
Bell of the garden (bell pepper, a slice of it)
Girl's Delight (a date)
Fruit of the Vine (cucumber, a slice of it)
Vital Prop (slice of bread
Nude Colonel (shelled nut)
A Chip of the Old Block (toothpick)
Life Preserver (salt)
Good Impudence (chili sauce)
Porcelain Delight (tea)
Salted Nuts (nuts off of bolts, salted)
Spring's Offering (water)

This party kind of reminds me of that MASH episode where Klinger tries to eat the Jeep. He chews on a windshield wiper blade like it were a bit of licorice and uses motor oil to help the nuts and bolts go down more smoothly. If you've got a MASH afficionado among your party guests, I'd suggest bringing that episode and spooling it while your guests attempt to eat their "dinner." Good times, Hawkins. Good times.

The real refreshments, of course, will make up for the rubbish. At least until you trot out the old Cokesbury standbys: sandwiches (at least, this time, cut into the shapes of fish), and fruit punch. Or, for variation, ice cream and angel food cake. Whoopee.

You will say whoopee next week, however, when Cokesbury celebrates Easter with eggs, bunnies, baskets, chickens, and a promising game entitled "Making the Most of Easter Sunday," which, I'm saddened to report, does not involve napping. Come for the Easter Party, stay for the oddities.