Hurricane Jeff and the Aftermath

Saturday night. We hit a party, the bars, then back to the party, and eventually back to our 8 person house which we destroy on a regular basis. But this was on a whole new level.  A few people came back with us and everyone was just hanging out, until a violent storm burst open our front door.  Someone started screaming as Hurricane Jeff began raging through the house.  Now, this guy is known to be destructive within the walls of his own house, which freaks me out since every time I'm there he goes apeshit and breaks everything in sight via body slam.  I am always convinced I will make a stop at the hospital before I make it to my own bed.  Saturday night however, the storm swung our way, leaving a path of destruction.  The great thing about it is that it isn't even Jeff who I blame. Young "Antoine," after jumping around chest-bumping with Jeff all around the living room, encourage him to "dunk" on our table (which had previously been dunked on only two nights before).  Jeff launched himself onto the table, not once, but twice, bringing the structure to its knees, and then Hurricane Jeff was gone, the door left open in his wake (basically, he fled the scene immediately after...smart kid).  

Now, this is not unusual.  What happened next, however, was just idiotic, yet no one could stop it. We were all bystanders.  Antoine started picking up everything in sight and launching it against the far wall of the living room.  Beer.  Empty bottles. A burrito. Vegetarian lasagna. Literally anything and everything was on the floor or the wall.  Even the CEILING. And then he just sat down like nothing happened. And then he got pissed at us when we told him he would be cleaning up in the morning.

"Did you see me jump on the table? Did you? Tell me. Did I jump on the table? NO!"

Ok, technically you didn't jump on the table, but your buddy did and on your request. And he did not throw a BURRITO against the wall. You did. Hence, you clean.

After this, someone (me) slapped someone else (Antoine) but we aren't sure why, and then someone (Antoine) threw a cup of water in someone else's (my) face. He clearly won that battle.  I sat down in defeat.  Who are we? And of course within 30 seconds we're best friends again. Only in our house does this happen.  But I cannot say I want to witness that ever again. Unless it's at Jeff's...

End result:

Rodents that think they run the place. 

What is this house?