Welcome to my Party Like It’s 1776 party! I see by your zippers that you decided not to follow the suggested authentic dress code. Pay it no mind. I have extra tricorne hats in the den. I’ll fetch you one. And you brought guacamole! How modern. You’re aware, of course, that the avocado wasn’t introduced to this fair country of ours until 1833. This is very thoughtful. Anyway, come on out back, everyone is hanging out by the punch bowl. —
How are you finding everything? I must say the hat looks very fine on you. I hope you’re enjoying that beakerful of flip. Yes it does have rum in it. And beer. And sugar. And eggs. I agree, most people wouldn’t serve a hot punch in the summer, let alone one with whole eggs in it. I just love how creamy they make it! Whipping it all up with a hot poker was no easy task though—just look at these welts! They’ll be fine. I poured wine into them and slathered on some lard. Did you know that I made those beakers myself? First time trying pottery! I’m sorry about your shirt. You just have to tilt it a bit to the right when you sip. There you go. That’s better. —
A glass of water? I am so sorry but water wasn’t an option during the time of our forefathers—contamination issues. How about a nice tankard of cider? It’s bone dry, foggy and room temperature. Ice? They didn't have that until the 1800s, silly. Crazy about this heat, right? But isn’t it great? We’re sweating like the men and women who founded this great country of ours. This is revolutionary sweat. —
Of course you can have some rum! It was the original American spirit! Here have some more cider. It helps with the coughing. And I'll get some water for your pants. No contamination worries if it's for cleaning! You’re not the first person to call my rum unique. No, you can’t buy this stuff in stores. And I did some tinkering to give it the rough, unrefined charm of rum of the 1700s. The secret is Everclear and dirt, but you didn’t hear it from me! If that cough doesn't stop, try chasing it down with some firecake. Yup! It's just flour and water! Ah, the simple life. —
Oh. You’re leaving. Did the flip get to you? Feeling a little nimptopsical? Pungey? Lordly? I can see you’re not familiar with Ben Franklin’s writings or you would know that all of those were synonyms for “drunk.” Well, I’m sad to see you go. Please take some firecake for the road. You’ll find it offsets the salt fish wonderfully. Oh, leave the hat, if you don’t mind — I’m going to need it for the reenactment later. We’re doing the Battle of Québec—I’m playing Benedict Arnold! You’re sure you can’t stay? Ah well. Farewell then, and long live the glory of these United States! Wait! You forgot your firecake!