Traditionalists may baulk at the idea of unusual Christmas parties, but why? Check it out: Put away the jumpers and the crackers, the tree, the mince pies, the tapenade, the annoying cousins, the old ones and their sleepy jowls, the log fire, the slippers, the talcum powder snow and the cotton-wool drifts; the baby Christ, banish the wise men, one who they say was named Gaspar, another who lived as his name was Melchior, and a third who has been remembered as Balthazar. We have no need for them. Flush the brandy and the wine and the ale and the tea and the bucks fizz, leave the stopper off the whisky and let it spirit away; we shan't be needing it at the sort of unusual Christmas parties Bounce throws. Leave the stuffing out for the dogs and let them slobber all over the orange chocolate too, for it is all of no use. Dispose of the presents still wrapped, mulch the cards for the springtime compost and throw in the brussel sprouts. Kick the telly 'til it shatters, trash the board games, the balls, the frisbees, ban the long after-dinner walk, forget the origami and balloon blowing, crap magic, worse jokes, last year's campari, carpet snooze, glimpse of Santa through tear-blurred eyes in the cold of the morning, no. Again, surplus to requirements.
All you need is your phone. Grab it, and commit whatever series of actions you need in order that it hears you when you say, "unusual Christmas parties at Bounce Ping Pong please". Then all you have to do is turn up, aim a number of small, white ball missiles at the boss who wronged you 7 months and three days ago, and get yourself merry.