With a mysterious alcohol-infused purple juice cocktail in hand, I set out to investigate. Zak is celebrating his birthday with a voodoo-themed birthday party. You wouldn't expect it from the intimidating bone jewelry, steel piercings, and laced-up bodices, but the atmosphere is cheerful and convivial. Friends of the Crypt have adorned the surroundings with tribal decorations and artwork. The air is thick with the smell of fuel; nearby, an enchanting woman swivels her hips and swings flaming poi around her.

Elsewhere, less-sober invitees trade their costumes and headdresses with other patrons and exchange friendly words. I browse a table full of handmade jewelry. "How much are you selling these earrings for?" asks my plus one. We find out that the peacock earrings are modestly priced, but the owl-feather earrings fetch a larger sum: "I cut the wing from the owl myself!" the vendor explains—he reassures us that it was deceased before he found it.

One minute to midnight, a cadre of servers with tribal makeup descends upon the crowd, trays of pastries in hand. I snag a vanilla-frosted cupcake from a nearby tray. Zak, a red-dreaded man with a magnificent bone tiara, mounts the bar and shouts, "I want everyone to dance for the next 45 minutes!" Confused stares bounce between straitlaced normies and the birthday boy's entourage, a handful of goth go-go dancers in black leather boots, fishnet stockings, and corsets. A patron nearby stumbles over his own words: "I'm going to need another drink for that!" My internal monologue answers with a resounding YES. Where is my purple drink?

Want The Stranger to haggle over avian-themed jewelry at your house party? E-mail the date, place, and party details to partycrasher@thestranger.com.