Goodbye hugs all around, and I finished my drink just in time for Cassie to join me with another one. It was going to be a long night.
If you’re reading this and have never been to a Gwiffin Party, that means you’re probably not a Little. Drinking, smoking, dancing, music, swearing, stripping. As long as the kids are indoors and everybody consents, virtually nothing is off-limits. The sweetest sweets and greasiest meats are up for grabs, and the alcohol is either so masked you can’t taste it, or so strong that you don’t care by the time you’ve downed a sugary chaser.
Gwiffin’s stilted around, doing their best-worst Amazon impressions while wagging their fingers and threatening to spank all the naughty Littles. Only a swig of the good stuff or a puff of the better stuff would make them leave you alone.