Ketchum, ID-- Area man Johnny Nelson was first on the scene upon receiving a group text from friend and fellow fishing guide, Aaron Barber. "Got a text from my boy Aaron saying Whiskey's was going off so I ran up here as quick as I could. There's a three pack of single girls from Seattle over by the pool tables!". Sources say the communication from Barber read, "Tons of poon at Disco's, shag ass up here!!".
"Shit's been pretty bleak for us single fellows ever since the Roosevelt shut down and the Casbar went all high brow with no smoking." said Nelson. "So when you get the Squirt Alert™, it's game on for sure."
At that time, seven other single men poured into the bar, all looking around the then small crowd of mostly middle aged men. Local boot fitter Evan Porter immediately performed a fly-by, conspicuously eying the three unidentified females, and was able to confirm his associates initial assessment/hopes that it was indeed "hammertime".
Twenty minutes later, Whiskey's was at near capacity, with an estimated 194 local men milling about the bar, talking about the powder skiing three years ago, pretending to play shuffleboard and mostly bombarding the three visiting women with sugary shots of liquor, light beers and offers for every illicit drug currently listed by the DEA. "I don't know if they're down, but I feel like it never hurts to let em' know I'm the local Candy Man." said Lefty's bartender Jeff Scott. "I've got two rubbers and a bindy that says 'I'd like to be friends, beak some horseshoes and possibly fuck later.'"
By Midnight one of the women (who chose to withhold her name) had retired back to her dad's condominium, unaccompanied. "That place is a fucking dong blender. It's like a Jackson Pollack of losers with drugs and bad pick up lines. Seriously, what kind of a savage snorts cocaine off a toilette seat then does high kicks all night to Widespread Panic thinking he's getting in your pants?"
By 1am, Whiskey's was largely empty, save a few incoherent local men who were still engaged in shuffleboard. The Casino had become jam-packed with roughly 143 dudes, four local ladies/pin cushions and the two remaining Seattle women. "I packed my mace," noted one of the two Washingtonians. "I don't know how the local girls survive this place. It's like being dropped off in a prison colony only with worse hygiene. I thought Sun Valley was supposed be packed with hot mountain guys?" The woman paused to nonchalantly pluck an unmarked pill out of her freshly poured vodka tonic, casually tossing it on the ground. "These guys look like they haven't seen a vagina since the railroad."