Fortress Party 2023 - Rocky Horror

Usually, when you come into a Fortress Party, the first thing you see is a series of signs about fire safety, where to put your shoes, what time the kids have to leave, and other important, but tedious bits if knowledge. 

This year, guests would push a button to get all of that information from this instructional video: 

Vocals and Lips - Kristin McSweeney Kelly, Video/Editing - Brendan Kelly

Even though this room was the first area that guests passed through, it also held the biggest secret in the entire party, shown here:

That clear plastic lid tied down with ribbons had a sign that said "Do not open until midnight." Inside the box was a different button, some marshmallows, and a few Audience Participation Scripts. When the after-midnight button was pushed, a new version of the video came on, which included all of the raunchy things the audience was supposed to shout at the screen.  

This parody-of-a-parody was, as I just mentioned, so filthy that I'm too embarrassed to share it here. Maybe after a couple of beers, I can be convinced to pull it up on my phone for you. Or you can just break into my YouTube account and cut out the middleman. 

Fievel Goes West

Dear Friends,

The Hard Taco song for July is called, "Brady." It's about this guy, whose owner was savvy enough to beat the rest of high society to commissioning a Hard Taco song. If you have designs on appointing a splendid Court Composer, I am now available.

Sorry for the delay, Flemish duchesses. I've been working on this.

Placid Teenage Hormones
McDonald's once had a promotion that anyone who bought a sandwich would become eligible to purchase An American Tail: Fievel Goes West on VHS for $3. I was 16 years old, and although I had not seen this movie or its predecessor, An American Tail, I found myself spending down my allowance savings so I could have four copies. 

I was in a phase, I suppose, and it probably had to do with hormones. Not the ordinary teenage hormones often portrayed as raging, but the lesser-known glandular secretions that drive young men to purchase impractical and obscure things as a means of self-expression. For Chanukah, I gave my parents and sister the autobiographies of different Star Trek actors, even though none of us were Trek-heads. I tried to explain that the memoir of a still-closeted George Takei was the campiest and most bizarre thing in the bookstore. Thanks to hormones, my developing teenage brain concluded that this randomness made it relevant. So relevant, that asking for a gift receipt would have been sacrilege. Why couldn't my family appreciate that?


These same hormones left me indifferent to mediocre movies, but furiously obsessed with REALLY bad ones. That was why I had no choice but to buy four copies of Fievel Goes West.

I was surprised to discover, then, that Fievel Goes West was actually a wonderful movie. It had a strong cast, beautiful hand-drawn art, and a gorgeous score (R.I.P. James Horner). Notably, by changing one letter in the titles of both the original movie and the sequel, one could make a series of perfectly acceptable porn parodies... IN American Tail and Fievel Does West.

(Of less interest is that by changing just a couple more letters, one could make an archaic religious propaganda brochure... Fie, evil! God's Best.)

I've seen Fievel Goes West over 30 times. Hands down, it is my favorite movie. I transcribed the whole script and memorized every line. I scoured eBay for Fievel-themed trading cards. I wrote fan fiction. I spent hours at the library looking up old newspaper reviews of the movie, photocopied them and compiled them into a three ring binder. I even wrote a Rocky Horror-eque script for audience participation, in which there is a great running gag about Fievel's father having no neck. Here are some examples:

Papa: Fievel's birthday is coming. And we don't even have enough money (FOR A NECK!!!) for presents.

Cat R. Waul: Now for my part.
(We can't see your part because you're wearing a @&*$! HAT!!!)

Chula: Hey Boss, what's a (MAYFLY???) subversive?    
Cat R. Waul: Someone who doesn't have very long to live.

Papa: Ha! Our little Fievel is not so little no more!
(BUT YOUR NECK IS!!!)

I recommend joining me for a screening. It's one of the few socially acceptable forums for screaming obscenities at immigrants.

Amblin Entertainment made one serious mistake that doomed Fievel to humdrum box office mojo. The movie appeared in theaters on November 22, 1991, the exact same day that Disney released Beauty and the Beast. It's hard to fault the holiday moviegoers for choosing Princess Belle over Fievel Mousekewitz.

In contrast, I'm sure the XXX Fievel parody fared better than Booty and the Yeast, which was admittedly intended for a niche market.

With warmest regards,
Zach