Because You Can Never Be Too Young to Dress Like a Tart
Given that boys love destruction and mayhem, it only makes sense that they get KEWL vehicles that can magically transform into potentially death-causing, explosion-making, self-realized giant robots. But what about the girls...
Apparently, they love to get all slutted up, go out to bars under-age, and get over-aged men to by them drinks for free. So, it's only reasonable to think that this is a hidden transformer market to break into. Introducing the Polly Pockets Par-Tay Van. Because it's good to introduce girls as soon as possible to belly revealing tops, and falling-off-your-hips jeans; preferably before they even have hips to have them fall off of.
Mechanically, the van tranformation is cool enough to even make Optimus Prime proud. Heck it even has an elevator to get you up to the 2nd floor dance hall to strut your moves to "Baby Got Back." And it comes with a tiny DDR pad! Well, more like Simon; presss Polly on the light-up "floor panels" to follow the pattern. And it has a FUZZY PINK DJ STAND!!! Woo, Fun-Kay!
And what nightclub would be without a bar? Not the Par-Tay Van, since it also comes with a small bar with a mixer for making "smoothies." Uh huh, sure. Maybe if Polly's dad, Mr. Pockets, was running the joint; but Mr. Pockets is nowhere in sight. Most likely, one of Polly's under-aged friends with a hip, California name like Chad or Blaine would be running mixed-drink duties. I pity the poor Mr. Pockets, coming home from a late night at work, only to find the Par-Tay van parked out in his driveway, a bunch of barely dressed anorexic girls with large oversized head passed out on the lawn in their own vomit, and finding some ingredients from his "cabinet of relaxation" missing. Of course, Chad and Blaine, being finished with having their way with Polly and her drunken band of giggly hotties, are nowhere in sight; probably hanging around the 7-11 discussing the night's conquests.
As a side note, back in the 80's, I remember there was a small movement of creating dance clubs with smoothie bars for the under-age set in my area. With cool nightclub-sounding names and everything ("Jackhammer" is the one I remember). The only reason I'm aware of this is because the father of a friend of my sister (she was in high school at the time) opened one up. It didn't last long, since the whole concept, while rather noble, is flawed.
One, being a business, it needs to make money. Nightclubs make money pretty much solely on selling alcohol throughout the wee hours of the night. You can't turn a profit of selling Coke and fruit juice for 3 hours a night.
Two, being a teen hangout, not only required the same amount of security inside the place, but an inordinate amount of security watching the parking lot outside, to keep the undesirables away, who would gladly sell what couldn't be bought inside. Sadly, more than a few fights broke out in the lot. At a real bar, the owners just call the cops and be done with it; at a juice bar, the owner now had to take the additional responsibility of being a baby-sitter. You know, because it was HIS fault Joey wanted revenge for Louie tripping up his double axle grind in front of the Baskin-Robbins the night before.
Three, while going to a kid-friendly nightclub might be cool when you turn 16 (which I think was the minimum-age requirement), what self-respecting 18 year old is going to there? Especially when any 18-year old girl with any amount of gumption can easily get into a 21 and older bar? And then get free booze handed to her by duping the males hanging out at the bar? It should be noted that, in general, 18-year old boys get booted from bars pretty darn quickly; since they don't quite bring in the biz that a hot young chick does. So where does that leave the 18 year old punk boys? Why, to scope out the 16-year old girls at the juice club. Assuming, of course, those 16 years old that you are scoping out really aren't 13-year olds with enough gumption to sneak into a juice bar. And then trying to get 17-year old boys to buy them free Hi-Cs.
The above is all null and void assuming you live in a college town, where anyone who has a hand and a mouth can drink often and openly. Heck, you don't even NEED a Par-Tay Van at that point; just a keg and something that gravity with make it rest on.