DeNae's Salute to Fudge, Day 10:
Tonight is the office Christmas party at a swanky downtown hotel. This is an annual favorite for a number of reasons: First, it costs a mere $150, which of course everyone can afford at this time of year. And second, it gives you the opportunity to watch people drink themselves stupider than compost, while you are required to sip Diet Coke all night because 1) you're enough of a menace to society stone sober, and 2) you're pretty sure you'll go to hell if you join the chowderheads at the punch bowl.
Of course, you can't call them 'chowderheads' to their faces, mostly because their faces are currently concealed by a tree skirt someone oh, so cleverly snatched from the hotel Christmas display.
Wrap a several slices of fudge in wax paper and smush it into your little black clutch. And keep your iPhone stuffed in *ahem* "Victoria's Pushup Pocket," camera at the ready.
If anyone asks what you're up to, just tell them you're the Designated Blackmailer.