The Barrow-Downs' Third Birthday Party and Downie Awards

[Oddwen]

After standing and staring at the walls for some time (my favorite pastime!), someone hisses at me.
"Get off the stage! Who do you think you are? The Disco King?" I comply with a sheepish grin. What was I doing here? I was up on STAGE? SINGING? ME? When was the Barrow-danceoff? And when was the Disco-wight going to arrive? I wandered around asking any and all elves, for everyone knows they are the most knowledgable, but they just stared and/or edged off. Something was wrong. I had not had any alcohol, and had kept both eyes on my apple juice. So drunkenness and spiking were out.
Then I looked at the buffet table. To my horror, two of the orc security guards were there. It looked like they had snuck in, for they were trying to hide.
"Here it is! Marmaduke's been looking for this!" He held up the pot of the chocolate mousse! How and why could that be?
"Yeh! You know how mad he gets when they mistake his styling gel for a dessert!" the two shared a good chuckle and crept back out through some unknown hole.
But I reeled. That would explain the hallucinations, the worse than usual dyslexia, the strange behavior!
"Orken Hair Mousse!" a scream escaped my lips. Not chocolate mousse at all, but the vile concoction made from toads, poisonous toadstools and (gulp) limburger cheese!! I rushed to the bar.
"Quick," I wheezed. "Antidote! I need an antidote to Orken Hair Mousse!" My fingernails scratched deep grooves in the counter as I sought to keep standing...