The theme of this party is Miami Vice, it's true, but don't expect any enthusiasm for the upcoming summer movie remake—these partiers are celebrating the 1980s television show starring Don Johnson. The men are sockless, in pastels and blazers, and the women look like they've just come from aerobics class. They're also all serving as preemptive, belligerently drunk film critics. When asked about the previews for the Vice film, one man says it for everyone: "Jamie Foxx is all right, but Colin fucking Farrell? What a douchebag!"

A woman asks where the bathroom is and a man with an Edward James Olmos mustache replies, "I've just been peeing out back all night." A cigar-puffing Tubbs grabs the last beer out of the fridge and a friend comes over, lamenting the theft: "Goddamn it, you've been stealing everything tonight," he pauses, eyeing his sexy friend, "Including the young ladies' hearts!" A woman in legwarmers and huge hair staggers into the kitchen, whispering, "Can I have some water so I don't die?"

In the living room, people are dancing like cops in old TV shows, leaping and karate chopping the air. Someone's mustache falls off, and his friend points at the fallen facial hair, "Guess you're off the case, bitch!" Someone else is looking for his badge—I'm pretty sure that he's forgotten the word vice, because he keeps asking strangers: "Have you seen my... um... special badge? I'm with the special police, and I'm looking for my special badge." Impersonating an officer has never been so much boozy fun.

Want The Stranger to lament the fact that we don't own an alligator named Elvis at your house party? E-mail the date, place, time, and party details to partycrasher@thestranger.com.