I'm not sure what Jim was thinking. I know this much for sure: he was excited that the Giants were in the playoffs, and he really really wanted some dirty water dogs for his party.
Sounds like a pretty fool-proof plan to execute, right? I mean, you got the Giants in the playoffs, you got a bunch of beersh, you got you a boatload of Sabretts (skinless, although I complained and instructed otherwise). Seems like a perfect night. One that could run on autopilot.
But something went wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong.