This article from Modern Drunkard Magazine makes me miss throwing parties at the old house. Like, a lot.
Your party is a fortress lying directly in the path of an approaching horde of barbarians, and you have to gather as much stock as possible to withstand the assault. Except in this case, your fortress will be built of booze rather than bricks.
Richard sent me the link to it a million years ago, and I came across it again recently as I race headlong toward InboxZero. Thanks Richard!