Back in October, I threw a Succession season-three-premiere party … and swiftly got roasted by stan accounts everywhere.
But as Kendall proved with “Good Tweet Bad Tweet,” even bad tweets are at the very least buzz, so I took this roasting as a sign that something went right. We had Tomlettes and Gregs. We had Boar on the Floor (charcuterie meats). We had a drinking game that stayed up on our living-room wall for weeks. (I was shut down when I suggested we take a drink every time someone says “Uh-huh” — people would have died.) So I feel very qualified when I say that not only should you throw your own Succession-finale party this Sunday, I’ll show you how. I staged one myself last week for “Chiantishire,” and I promise it’s a good idea. Because you can’t spell “Succession finale party” without “success.”
Step 1: Make sure everyone is boosted and/or tested
This isn’t a Morning Show finale party; coronavirus shouldn’t factor into it. Tell your guests to get into their big-boy booster seats or at the very least spring for a rapid test. Implement a rainbow-wristband system if you have to, VIP-treehouse style.
Step 2: Ground rules
Before the party can really go nut-nut, you need to lay out some rules. Like no one can touch the “All Bangers” playlist, coat check is mandatory …
… and under no circumstances can you feed the rabbit some bagel.
Step 3: Décor
Kendall’s birthday party gave us so much to work with. Starting, of course, with a walk-through representation of his mother’s vagina. We recommend adorning your hallway with pink tablecloths and balloons.
If you can’t find real humans to fill your Compliment Tunnel (supply chain! Am I right?), handwritten compliments work fine.
And of course, what would a Succession party be without a Waystar Royco step-and-repeat?
If you already have a Christmas tree set up and you’re worried it’s going to clash with your curated soulless-billionaire aesthetic, just say it’s Tom. It’s tall, jolly, and you can hang your crimes on it.
If you really want to channel the energy of the shareholder’s meeting, buy 200 folding chairs and set them up while Nicholas Britell music plays stressfully. You can also install a life-size cutout of Kieran Culkin in your bathroom, because that seems to be where he does all his business dealings.
Step 4: Games!
What would a Succession party be without some fun and games? I personally tried to keep my references to season three, but a rousing game of “Boar on the Floor” or family baseball is always welcome. One time, pre-pandemic, I co-hosted a Succession-themed murder mystery. You can also play “Good Tweet Bad Tweet” with any brave party guests willing to let everyone scroll through their mentions.
Or rifle through the presents under your aforementioned
Christmas tree Tom for the hidden bunny-wrapping-paper present. Whoever accidentally finds the watch loses.
You can also play a game called “Where’s Marcia?” in honor of everyone’s favorite AWOL character this season. Tell arriving guests that there’s a picture of Marcia hidden somewhere in the apartment and whoever finds her gets a prize. It’s sort of like the Passover tradition of the afikomen but for beloved actress Hiam Abbass. Sadly, in my instance, everyone forgot to search for Marcia, and I forgot where I put her. Fitting.
Step 5: Drinks
Because you’re gonna need something to take the edge off when you’re watching this finale. If you have access to a) an outdoor space and b) fire, stage the camping trip that Connor took his younger siblings on because Logan couldn’t be bothered. Here is where you can serve a warm winter drink.
Back inside, there are so many options for bevs: Cheap prosecco in honor of the Roys’ soon-to-be stepdad, sad pool beer, Tom and Shiv’s disgusting Germanic wine, and Tom’s prison-toilet wine (don’t forget to burp it).
Whoever remembers to bring Logan a Coca-Cola gets bonus points that count toward a future presidential run.
Step 6: Food
Because you don’t want anyone to end up hungry and cranky like Frank in the private-jet airport, you need eats, and lots of them. Try …
Shame sponge cake:
Greggplant pasta alla nonna, a.k.a. “privacy, pussy, pasta”:
Tom’s diner hash browns with a glass of room-temperature water:
And, of course, some Greenpeace-appeasing crudité, purchased with Greg’s inheritance:
If you really want to go all-out, serve Josh Aaronson’s seaside clambake. Put the mussel on everyone.
Step 7: Entertainment
Okay, so this is just the episode itself. But hey, maybe Tiny Wu-Tang is available to play your party.
Step 8: Afterparty
If everyone’s up for it, fuck off to Nicholas Braun’s bar Ray’s on the Lower East Side. Hold a wake for the character who dies. Pay out if you were taking bets.
And that’s it! You did it! That’s how you throw a Succession-finale party good enough to earn a kiss from Daddy.