The invitation only ice fishing party is being held inside a narrow shed and coming from the structure is Drowning Pool's  Let The Bodies Hit the Floor. 
 

"Here's your pre-baited fishing pole," says a good to look at woman standing just inside the door.  The wooden structure (which is really just a storage shed) is about thirty feet long and twelve feet in width and inside it are laughing and drinking men and women.

"It's cold in here," I say.  In Florida (even in November) it's usually hot outdoors but the nights are cooler making the air easier to breathe.  

"We've got two air conditioners running," says the good to look at woman then using her hands like a flight attendant.  "One over there, and one there." 

"Air conditioners," I say. 

"The dry ice makes the fog," she says then pointing down at my feet. 

When hot water is added to dry ice it melts and turns into a dense fog and that fog is clinging to the floor of the shed.

"I like fog," I say.

The fog, cool temperature and overall darkness makes it easy for me to believe I could be inside an ice fishing shanty (situated atop a frozen lake) if only I didn't already know I was inside a storage shed in somebody's backyard (In Florida).    

"Beer?" she says then pulling a canned beer from the ice filled metal tub.  My invitation says I get one free beer.   

"Thank you," I say then moving through the crowd to the back of the shanty where men and women are standing around a hole that has been cut into the floor.

"Drop your line in," says a scarf wearing woman standing to the left of me.

"Drop it in?" I say then drinking from the beer can. 

"There's real fish down there," says the woman then lifting her line out of the water.  

A hole has been cut into the floor of the shed and below that hole someone has buried a large barrel filling it with water then stocking it with fish.  

"We're ice fishing," I say then dropping my line into the hole.  

We're ice fishing in Florida in somebody's backyard while we listen to Drowning Pool and there's beer, I'm thinking.  Damn.

"Catch the specially marked fish and you'll drink for free all night," says a glove wearing woman standing to the right of me.

"I want to catch the specially marked fish," I say then drinking down the rest of my beer.  I am thinking how stupid I must have sounded so I say, "What I meant is that I want to catch the specially marked fish to give to one of you people."   

"You're sweet," says the glove wearing woman then kissing my cheek.

"Later on they'll cover the hole and everyone will be dancing where we're now fishing," says the scarf wearing woman to my left. 

"I see," I say. 

"Do you dance?" she says.