The party was epic. My family and Cindy's family were there. All of my past girlfriends and their families were there with remarkable accuracy, or at least what I now believe to be accuracy. There was a big pool (that later somehow drained and was filled with cubes of mangos) adjacent to a library. All the people were dressed in their pool party best, sunglasses and all. A highlight for me was my mom suddenly splashing into the water with a giant rusted float-car straight off the playa. It sank, with my mom, to the bottom of the pool where it sat for just long enough to be nerve-wracking, then suddenly was cut loose from it's moorings to spring up to the surface. People chatted with each other. I don't remember any music though I woke up with 12 Rods stuck in my head.
Later, when the pool switched to the mango-pit and people had begun to leave, a dude whose identity escapes me now picked me up and threw me into the mangos. He had quite the muscle, tossing me 50 feet away and 20 feet high. I landed unharmed but it was clearly the end. Two police officers brought him over to me, waist deep in mango, and asked if I had anything to say to him before they took him away. "Be well," I said.