This story as wild as it sounds actually happened. Back in the early 80's I was living in Holliston, Massachusettes. Holliston is a quiet little town where nothing very exciting ever takes place.

I was living at home with my family on a wooded 25 acre parcel of land. Both my younger brother and I had set up a makeshift bedroom in the unfinished basement due to the fact that we were a family of 6 living in a 3 bedroom house.

Almost immediately we began to spot a field mouse roaming around our beds. At first it didn't concern us much, after all mice are harmless, right?

Anyway, me and my brother used keep our stash tucked away above our beds in the exposed floor joists. And for an entire summer we'd reach up to retreive our smoke, unroll our baggies only to discover that damned mouse had chewed holes in the bags and pilfered some our smoke.

Smoke was still fairly inexpensive so that didn't concern us much either, it became a real nuisance though because without thinking we'd unroll the baggie and weed would spill out onto the rug. My brother Tony would vow revenge if he ever caught that mouse.

One night I returned home from a Celtics game at the Garden about 1 am. I had just popped open a beer (8oz. Miller) and decided I didn"t want it, so I set it on the arm of a big old stuffed chair that sat between our beds.

Early the next morning while lying on my side I opened my eyes, looked at the beer sitting next to me only to discover that goddamned mouse inside the bottle! Apparently he smelled it or whatever, climbed in and once inside realized his predicament.

I can only imagine his plight. Drink or drown, he drank the entire beer and must've been cocked off his ass. He just laid there on his side breathing heavily.

I excitedly woke Tony up and showed him the plight of his nemesis, we could hardly beleive it ourselves! I ran upstairs and showed it to my Mother who insisted that I kill it. "Hell No!!" I said, that damned mouse had been eating our weed for the whole summer and needed to quench his cotton mouth. I took him outside to the field and laid the bottle on it's side to allow him a chance to sober up! Several hours later I returned to check on him and sure enough he had managed to free himself. That night we sat around and laughed about the whole situation over some beers and some good weed and decided that he truly was the original "PARTY ANIMAL".