A Kevin Bacon Impersonator Ruined My Party and I Want Revenge

By Bob Kowchanski - Posted Jan 15, 2026

Christmas season, 2025. Me and my buddy Chip threw a party, Santa hats optional (pants not optional, though, Chip was firm on this). Chip and his wife are on the outs, so he's staying at my place for a little while. He's pretty bummed, but I'm no slouch when it comes to dealing with adversity, and I know exactly the right formula: most nights we play Tecmo Bowl (the good one, not that stupid Tecmo Super Bowl bullshit) on my NES emulator and eat cold condensed bean and bacon soup right out of the can until 3 am. It's just like the old days, only I can afford better food now. It's just that I've kinda got my IBS down to a science. I know that if I'm eating two to three cans of bean and bacon at around bedtime, I can reliably expect to have to urgently rush to the bathroom at around 8, which gets me up in time for work.

And if you must know, the soup is cold because I store the cans in the fridge to save space in my cupboard.

So, you probably don't know this, but my birthday is real close to Christmas. Not exactly on it, but close. I'm not telling you exactly the day because last time I did that I got doxxed and somebody sent a bunch of used dildos to my house. I won't be fooled a second time. Anyways, this party was both a Christmas party and my birthday party sorta and also our friend Daniel is Jewish so it was also a Hanukkah party so we covered a lot of ground.

For my birthday I wanted a celebrity at the party so I got on the Slack server Chip set up for the party and made an announcement that a celebrity would be there. It's the law of attraction. If you want something, first you have to act like it's already manifested in your life. It's like giving the universe a body check into a wall and saying, "Hey, this thing happened, remember?"

And in the end, the universe came through again! And I learned a very important lesson: be careful what you wish for, because sometimes you might have wished it wrong a little in your head and then you get crap.

What I got was a Kevin Bacon impersonator who was clearly Indian and who looked and smelled like he'd been living in a cardboard box. And not a good way, unlike the sweet situation I've got going on in my bedroom right now!

At first I was convinced it was the real guy, but in my defense I was really fucked up on some pills my cousin gave me and I was weed high and we'd made all the lights green and red which seemed like a good idea but was really stupid when I saw it but I wasn't changing all those goddamn lightbulbs again. I'll get to it.

I was excited, but when I got closer, the smell hit me, and then the betrayal. I still didn't know it wasn't the real Kevin Bacon yet, but he was quickly and systematically eating every single peanut M&M in the bowl. This was a gut punch. Everybody knows that those are MY M&M's placed there in a bowl for MY convenience, and that the one of the cardinal rules of my place is that you don't eat my goddamn M&M's.

The other rule is flush.

Sometimes I stop to think, and I forget to start again. But not this time. I did my patented Terminator Vision trick and "analyzed" him. It's like play pretend because you don't really see everything in red with words over top, but the lighting helped and it does kinda work because you notice stuff that you might not otherwise. I noticed in that moment, for example, that this man didn't look like Kevin Bacon at all. He had a round, sweet face that I instinctively wanted to punch the other way around his head, and he smiled joyfully at me until I slapped the M&M's out his hand and said, "This is NOT that kind of party, sir!"

The music stopped and everybody turned to look. I still don't know what I meant when I said that, but it's important to take a stand in life and not be a pussy, so I stuck to my guns, and I will continue to do so.

I was so angry at that moment, and I knew action had to be taken, so I went to my bedroom and returned with my Hulk Hands. Now, many of my friends know about this, but maybe you probably don't: when the Hulk Hands go on, that means business. I'm not backing down once those things are on. It's like a spell comes over me.

So when I came out of the bedroom, making a b-line for this mock Kevin Bacon bastard, it was Chip who stepped in first. Chip's a good guy, and I wouldn't hit him. We'd been friends since the first grade. He's the guy that helped me build my first tree fort. He's the guy that vetted my first girlfriend that I threw up on at the dance and who's now a stripper near the airport. He's always been there for me, even when I wasn't there, and I wasn't about to unleash the Hulk Hands, but god damn it somebody was getting hit.

Then the unthinkable happened.

Somebody, intentionally and with extreme malice, REMOVED MY HULK HANDS.

Even if there weren't red lights, everything would have gone red. I was foaming at the mouth, and had to be held down by several people. NOBODY TAKES MY HULK HANDS OR OTHER PROPERTY OFF OF MY HANDS WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT WRITTEN PERMISSION I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW.

I was thrashing around and screaming and raving and I was probably going to murder that guy a little bit, but then it happened. The worst thing. The very worst thing. I trusted a fart and it betrayed me.

Damn you, IBS. Damn you to hell forever.

I never got a chance to exact my revenge, because when I was done in the bathroom 45 minutes later almost everybody was gone and Chip was pissed at me.

Worst birthday in awhile.

---