For those who haven’t read accounts of our capers or (or experienced one of them firsthand) el dorado has, over the years, constructed a fleet of Mardi Gras floats for the YJ’s parade. These floats typically include, but are not limited to: cryptic acronyms, questionable construction methods, code-violating transportation strategies, and something edible.

The young eldos were encouraged to carry on that time-honored tradition, to revive the capers of years past. Never having experienced a Mardi Gras at YJ’s themselves, they asked around the office for advice. It soon became clear that they would get no easy answers. Josh told them: “The less likely it is to work, the more successful it will be when it does work. Unless, of course it really doesn’t work, in which case…you’re fired.” Brady pointed to where the first aid kit was stashed. Nancy just shook her head from side to side.

When confronted about his involvement in the old eldo capers, Steve’s eyes grew dark and troubled. He looked into the distance, and wrinkled his brow, as if fighting off a past he had tried so hard to forget. His voice became low, and desperate. “No eggs…” he mumbled. “…please…dear God…no eggs.”

So they ignored the warnings and carried on, and by Tuesday morning an idea, and a float, had taken shape in the shop. Passerby wondered at its classic form, like a covered wagon crossing the uncharted prairie, albeit a covered wagon built with 2x4s, pvc pipe, warped OSB flooring, dichroic panels, a rain flap, and strobe lights, powered by a car battery, with the six foot tall shrink-wrapped head of Charlie Sheen like a mermaid on its prow. We equipped it with ninety gallons of popcorn and a nearly clean container of budget-sourced sazeracs. David, upon reviewing the craft, deemed it “appropriate.”

The popcorn was the key to the night’s ultimate “success”. We navigated the float to YJ’s in the cold March rain, and found a spot in the back alley, where revelers were gathering and a brass band had started to play. Matt and Brandon wore space suits reminiscent of the Ghostbusters and Brandon carried a leafblower on his back. Gavin brought back the chicken suit. Using two modified popcorn loading devices, one mobile and the other integral to the float, we repeatedly showered the crowd in a snow of warm popcorn, until the alley was carpeted in a lawsuit-and-butter-smelling layer of slippery goodness. Then we joined the parade as it made its way Eastward, intermittently blasting people with popcorn and fumes of noxious leaf-blower gas. Josh narrated the whole trip in a Hindenberg-esque iPhone video that we can only hope will never surface.