When the Penthouse strip club sent invitations
to its end-of-summer luau
to the people on its mailing list,
one of the unmarked envelopes,
addressed to Dewey McKay,
a regular after-work patron,
sent to his office in the big downtown tower,
spilled a suspicious white powder
down in the basement mailroom.
Panicked, the mail clerk called 911,
the building ordered evacuated;
a fire department hazmat team
charged downtown, bells clanging, lights whirling.
Tests confirmed the powder benign –
a pinch of sand for the luau.
Authorities complained they’d had to
“spend a lot of resources”
to respond to the situation,
hinting Penthouse should foot the bill.
“We were only trying to generate
some excitement for the luau,”
Penthouse owner Wade Cousins apologized.
In the end, though,
the cops got free drinks and lap dances
at the luau, leis draped around their necks.