My plus one and I lock our bikes to a street sign, and layers of steps lead us to the aptly dubbed House in the Sky. The hosts, twins whose birthday we are celebrating, show us to a candlelit table of chocolate.

Thrifty scavengers have semilegally gleaned a surplus of organic, fair-trade chocolate and crafted an assortment of goodies: candied-orange bark, crème de menthe cups, and on the side, an assortment of aesthetic undesirables that crumbled in the creative process but taste divine. On the wall above the table of treats, a pale skinny man wearing nothing but a strategically placed banjo and a longing gaze graces a page of the DreamBoats calendar, a clever fundraiser for the Vashon school district.

We nosh and chat, enjoying a Pixies-anchored playlist. A tall, scruffy boy in a tight white shirt with a pink screen-print that reads "Stonewall was a police riot" boasts of his "four-day love affair with a guy who had a four-day love affair with John Cameron Mitchell."

Candles blown out and twin wishes made, we don layers and pour out the door for phase two: a walk to the neighborhood pub. Along the way, the mobile party grows as friends passing on bicycles and hailed from familiar houses join the expedition. The crew has doubled in size by the time we reach the bar to belt out '90s hits in style. The walk was long and the drinks are strong; shirtless karaoke seems sensible.

Chocolate, midnight walks, and karaoke—January in the Northwest can be tough, but these locals know how to roll through the darkest of months with ease.

Want to detail the plot of your latest bike-porn film to The Stranger at your next house party? E-mail the date, place, and party details to partycrasher@thestranger.com.