A fairy prince flaunting baby blue wings, a hot pink sparkly scarf, and pink leopard-print short-shorts welcomes me to "Bend-it Bandits' Semi-Secret Social: Hallowganza" with a slight curtsy. Though too late for the vegan potluck, Party Crasher is just in time for the Sleater-Kinney-esque stylings of house-show regulars My Parade. Their "POC dance punk" (POC = people of color, fool) fills the living room-cum-dance floor with crisp, raucous beats, inspiring grins and bouncing from partyers. Highlights include a sped-up punk cover of Dolly Parton's "9 to 5" and a drummer dressed (advertently?) as a never-nude.

Between bands, the room transforms into a theater as we settle down to watch an annotated slide show by the dapper ilvs (pronounced "Elvis") strauss. In a trim brown velour jacket and a porkpie hat, ilvs clicks through a series of spare images. Part one: slides of a factory, with copper pipes and a large boiler gleaming through the dusky resolution. The artistic love child of Miranda July and Tracy + the Plastics, ilvs dryly narrates the lascivious fantasies of a factory worker so vividly we can almost see him pressed against the big copper dome as his boss fucks him ("I love my job, I love my job," he pants). Part two: a lustful, English-lilted tour of botanical gardens, including a Moby-Dick-style obsession with peonies and the etymology of "vagiant" (giant vagina).

Our faces hurt from laughing, and I look forward to the brass-accented acoustic sing-alongs of Tin Tree Factory up next. It's late, and tired smiles rest on faces around the room as we quietly listen. But the mood shifts with their final tune—the first few notes of Le Tigre's "Deceptacon" summon our energy to jump around once more, this time to lyrics about linoleum floors.

Want to welcome The Stranger to your house party with a "No cops/No scabies/No problem" sign on your front door? E-mail the date, place, and party details to partycrasher@thestranger.com.