BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: GUEST,Reliable Narrator
Date: 18 Dec 05 - 10:47 AM

The Storyteller Donuel subsides into silence, sipping a mug of mulled cider and watching the inhabitants as they shift quietly around the room, eating, drinking, constructing toys, but they wait hopefully for more stories or songs.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Rapparee
Date: 17 Dec 05 - 09:52 PM

Over in the corner, he opens his knapsack and pulls out...a model train. Quietly, he begins working on it, hoping to make it run again. Soon, he puts it down and skewers another sausage on his sword and begins toasting it over the coals of the campfire in the middle of the room.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Donuel
Date: 17 Dec 05 - 09:09 PM

I'm driving through Indiana on Christmas eve in my old Chrysler "old paint" and my eyes are making spikey halos around the rare and odd street lamp. It looks like I'm running into some nasty weather as a nasty slap of the wiper on each upstroke is making me grit my teeth. The transmission sputters and swears ceaselessly ...ggggdamudamudamudamu... gggggdamu damu damu...The windshield wipers smears a constant veil of ice and oil fighting for superiority clacking in counterpoint to the transmission...ggggdamdamu k damdamu k damdamu gggdamdamu...
Somewhere near the Kentucky border the transmission sizzled with a fffffggggdamdamdamdamfffffffffff and the engine wailed wwwwwwooooaeeEEEeaaaaaee so turned it off, ggg ggg ggg gug. dead.
The sudden quiet and reprieve from the haranguing profanities was heavenly, but desolate. So quiet now I can hear my heart.

Silence. Wind and whistling.

Where am I going to find help this time of night on Christmas eve. The only sign of civilization is a collapsed snow covered fence. No lights. No cars. I can't fix a doorknob, there's no sense even trying to look underneath the hood. Last year in the city the mechanic said he could find parts for this car but it could take up to a year. Something about my car being discontinued after the first hundred cars wouldn't start. ...

Wha is that somebody comin this way. How on earth could anyone be out here? My suppressed thoughts of freezing to death in this Chrysler surfaced for a second. I tried the door but it was frozen shut . I rolled down the window which only went down 3 inches and stuck. My lips puckered through the 3 inch opening and I tried yelling HELLO but it came out HELWOE like some sort of desperate Elmer Fudd.
The snow outlined specter of a man slowly sauntered up and said "howdy".
Silence. I scooted out the other side of the car and got out and said "I think my transmission burned up so I was wondering if there was anywhere around here that I might find a gas station, bus station or a town or anything...um ...by the way I'm Jean Shepard" Silence.

" Zeke's the name"...

Thoughts of a killer on the road filled my mind during the awkward moments of frozen silence.

"Stayere" and Zeke turned and walked away.

In a frigid minute or two, I hear a distinct blum blum blum blum a farm tractor with a homemade plow emerges from the darkness.
Zeke had a chain on the Chrysler and was pulling us while I steered.
Two turns later and we are at the barn. Zeke called out with no more than a loud whisper "boyz, torch". Just then 3 young men were pullin two tanks, one silver and one gold while the third had a coil of something with what looked like a stick of metal incense slightly smoking. "Jesus Christ" Zeke yelled having cut his hand pretty good on the transmission housing and was now wrapping both hands with a rag.

A brilliant light emerged from beneath the Chrysler punctuated by a commotion among some cows and sheep deeper in the barn. In less time than it took to get to the barn, Zeke was done and turned the key. The engined purred, then he put it in gear. There was still a sound but it was something like alleluyalleluyalleluyalleluya.

How much do I owe you, I asked with relief and disbelief in my eyes.
"Nuthin, zonthe house... anyway Walmart done put me outta business years ago." and with a salute type wave he and the boys headed back into the barn.
I protested saying "But its Christmas eve and I owe you..." but they were already out of sight.
Driving out I saw a sign I hadn't seen earlier. Zeke's Garage and Divine Church o Mary.
Back on the road the radio crackled back to life after a year of silence... with Christmas carols that matched the new sound of the transmission in pitch and rhythm. allayluya allayluya allayluya...
Zeke's garage and divine church, jeez what a tax dodge that must have been, but man, its a miracle, old paint has never driven so well.
And I was suddenly humming Christmas carols with the wind and howling and allayuya allayluya transmission purring into the new Christmas night.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: jimmyt
Date: 17 Dec 05 - 07:46 PM

A pounding on the door reveals a stranger in a Brown coarse cloth cape and hood pulled down over his beady eyes. He shuffles in, sniffs the air, and announces that he has been informed the Christmas spirit is lacking here, and he intends to cheer up the lot. "Hold this (*!&@#_($*+{_)(Door open for a minute, " he muttered, and went out the door. He returned a few moments later with a spectacular fir tree perfectly shaped and decorated in every color of the rainbow with the oddest ornaments. "As soon as you get used to this beauty, step forward and select a garment from the tree to suit your needs," Boomed the evil smelling stranger in the hood.

As the smoke cleared and the tree was more clearly seen, the oohs and aahs continues as people gathered closer for a look. "Wow", said Liz, "I wonder who would think of decorating an entire Christmas tree with THONGS???" "Surprise!" said jimmyt removing his brown monk's robes to reveal a gold lame' jumpsuit and white shoes and matching belt. "Someone rustle me up a sex on the beach and some fig newtons! I am gonna stay awhile."

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 17 Dec 05 - 01:58 PM

Sage observes, not for the first time, that spell-check does nothing for syntax errors. Bangs head against bar, then moves closer (but not too close) to the jello pit to take a look at the creature floundering in it. It resembles a giant sloth. . .

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: SINSULL
Date: 17 Dec 05 - 01:09 PM

MUSAK????? I just threatened the Customer Service people over at Hannaford's about that damn MUSAK! Turn it off! Turn it off!
"COME they told me
Par RUM PUM PUM PUM
A new born king to see
PAR RUM PUM PUM PUM
Our finest gifts we bring
PAR RUM PUM PUM PUM
To lay before our king..."

Not polite to lay anyone before a new born king. Child abuse I suspect. HMMMM.

Meantime, Alice, Freddie, the calico, the squirrel, the thing in the JELL-O pit and a few ducks join in on the chorus

MEOW Quack QUack Growl Squeak
Quack Quack Growl Squeak
Quack Quack Growl Squeak

"So to honor him
MEOW Quack Quack Growl Squeak
When he comes (BAck to the laying, I guess)
Quack Quack Growl Squeak"

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 17 Dec 05 - 10:40 AM

Sage thinks to herself "since no one seems interesting in sustaining the singing I'll just turn on the easy listening holiday Musak station over the PA system--that'll gall 'em into getting their act together!"

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Morticia
Date: 16 Dec 05 - 07:51 PM

Could someone fetch the whatever-it-is out of the jello pit, only, it's shedding? NOT the meat hook, Gluon, it isn't lunch......yes, you have had lunch, yours and everyone elses, I think.......no, it's not pudding either, just fetch it out and open a door.

I don't know which door.....try the spotted one...no, not that one. That one leads to your snack cupboard, doesn't it? My mother didn't raise any eejits, you know.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Geoff the Duck
Date: 16 Dec 05 - 07:42 PM


SPLOMPH!!!

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Geoff the Duck
Date: 16 Dec 05 - 07:28 PM

The small green door just to the upper right of the large oak panelled one opens a crack and a thin hairy nose pokes around the edge of it. The whiskers at the end of the nose twitch a few times as it sniffs the air. It extends a little further until a pair of bright beady blue eyes can be seen.
The eyes glance furtively about, then the whole head disappears back through the door. A long, but not rat like tail now swings out of the door hole. It is followed by the glistening haunches as the legs scrabble about for a footing. The creature slowly lowers itself until it is hanging by its front paws fron the lower edge of the door frame. It is larger than it first had appeared, the body almost half the height of the large oak door it is about to drop past.
Like a giant lemming, it suddenly abandons caution and lets go completely, landing with a "thud" on the polished floor of the Tavern.
The strange creature sits up, looks around nonchalantly as if it had made a smooth entrance and did not look like the bastard offspring of an anteater and a wallaby. It half hops and half scuttles across the room and is just reaching full speed on its way to the Texas Exit when it hits the edge of the lime jello spilling over the edge of the pit. It is too late to check velocity or to alter direction. The beast suddenly finds itself on a tangent of the lime-scented pool.
It is strange how a particularly determined individual can reach the end of what should be logically possible - the way the coyote following the road-runner still runs in thin air for seconds before plummeting into the canyon. This particular animal shows no such fortitude. It reaches the half way point across the pit, shrieks like a bagpipe and lands spreadeagled iin the green slippery mess.....

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: MMario
Date: 15 Dec 05 - 01:13 PM

And I thought you were going 'Valley girl' on us.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 15 Dec 05 - 01:11 PM

Proof read proof read proof read. Doesn't amount to much of a double entendre, but like I said, "lie" down on the bed before sampling that drink.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 15 Dec 05 - 01:10 PM

Look out for the cider with the fog bank--it has a real kick. Save everyone the task of transporting you--if you're going to serve yourself some, take your mug into the Mudcat Recovery Ward, like down on a bed, then drink it.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: MMario
Date: 15 Dec 05 - 10:43 AM

hot nuts, spotted drawers. never mind.

I need a drink.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Liz the Squeak
Date: 14 Dec 05 - 03:38 PM

You lookin at my pink spotted drawers?

LTS

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 14 Dec 05 - 12:26 PM

A wooden board with a knife and a piping hot loaf of banana bread filled with this season's pecans appears on the bar.

Let it cool a little first or you'll burn your mouths on it.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: GUEST,Mingulay at work
Date: 14 Dec 05 - 06:43 AM

The squirrel eyed the thronging mass with interest. There were a lot of strange concoctions being drunk and in copious quantities. SOMETHING HAD TO GIVE, and soon by the look of it. The rest rooms were full of strange creatures half man, half beast and half cut. An idea was forming in his small nut bound mind - THE PORTABLE TOILETS!!!
All he had to do was arrange for them to be shipped over, and there were spare reindeer about to pull them. A quick hose down and they would be in business.

Ah! blessed relief, and a chance to make a few bucks.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Geoff the Duck
Date: 14 Dec 05 - 05:13 AM

Strange how quickly you can get used to a three high bank of multicoloured, multi-textured, and obviously multi dimensional (by the look of the creature which just poked its head through - not around - THROUGH the pink spotted one) doors.
Geoff the Duck in his heart of hearts KNEW they had not been there when he had last visited the Tavern, but already they felt as though they had been one of the first parts built, with the bar, lounge, kitchens and jello pit simply tacked on as an afterthought, or several afterthoughts. Where was the Minstrels Gallery? Oh yes! it was still just visible behind the Christmas Tree. There seemed to be several eldrich shapes stoking a log fire with red and green tunics, and arguing about new uniforms for their workers co-operative. It looked as if left unchecked they would soon be coming to blows. Perhaps they should just wear checked uniforms?
Perhaps another pint would help?
What a good idea!

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: gnomad
Date: 14 Dec 05 - 03:56 AM

Returning from the washroom, gnomad has evidently resumed the quest, along with his unsavoury outer garments. Noticing the duck, he is about to ask for the bill, but remembers in time,

"Check, please...Oh on Bert is it?..most kind, please give him my regards" he wonders who Bert can be, but somehow it doesn't seem to matter that much.

"Get a move on, Shrove Tuesday will be on you any time, and if JohnInKansas is going to make you the professor's machine he's going to need at least a day or two."

gnomad heaves on the pack, relieved it is now somewhat lighter. He glares at the badger, deciding that ray-bans and a smoking-jacket is not the look he would choose for himself. The badger has not finished, he is a badger after all.

"and now you want me to tell you where to go." though it is clear gnomad would rather do the telling, "Go through the Kansas door, obviously, and say thank you to these nice people before you do! Maybe sing them a song, but make it quick, not one of your wrist-slitters, and NO Excelsior"

gnomad has had enough of this, also an idea. He focuses on the smoking jacket, which crumbles to ashes, and the badger vanishes. Leaning on the bar, gnomad sings,

Oh, All the money e'er I had,
I've spent it in good company,
And all the harm I've ever done,
Alas it was to none but me,
And all I've done, for want of wit,
To memory now I can't recall,
So fill to me the parting glass,
Goodnight, and joy be with you all.

If I had money enough to spend,
And leisure time to sit awhile,
There is a fair maid in this town,
That surely has my heart beguiled,
Her rosy cheeks and ruby lips,
I own she has my heart in thrall,
So fill to me the parting glass,
Goodnight, and joy be with you all.

Oh, all the comrades e'er I had,
They are sorry for my going away,
And all the sweethearts e'er I had,
They would wish me one more day to stay,
But since it falls unto my lot,
That I should rise and you should not,
I gently rise, and softly call,
Goodnight, and joy be to you all.

He eyes the multicloured row of doors, and picks one. As he lurches out there comes a burst of song, "Oklahoma, where.." the door swings shut, and the aroma begins to disperse.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: gnomad
Date: 14 Dec 05 - 03:23 AM

gnomad eases his way over to where Mrs Clause's knife is stuck in the wall, he tugs it free, and pops it into the washer.

"Good blade that, but might be safer here for a few hours" he returns to his own table, crunching through popcorn, and not obviously moved by the loss of the cider.

The badger sitting at the table, however, does move him "Wh..?" the question dies on his lips, but the badger answers anyway.

"Should have asked nicely for the cloves, not badgered him..and don't ferret in your pack either. Anything animal-related is going to cause you trouble, it just gives the techies ideas"

gnomad slumps into his chair, and eyes the badger, that it should speak is less disturbing than the clothes it wears.

"Abandonned your quest have you? I sent you here so you didn't have to try the pass, and could get straight to Kansas. Do I have to explain EVERYTHING to you?"

gnomad look guilty, and silently retrieves the banner, which he re-attaches to his pack. He makes for the washroom door.

"No sneeking back to the Tap&Spile" adds the badger.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 13 Dec 05 - 06:33 PM

The sound system crackles to life in the bar and the strains of Stan Freberg's "Green Christmas" fill in once the carollers move on.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 12 Dec 05 - 11:13 PM

Sage drops a few cloves into the cider on the stove, then takes a dipper of the adulterated cider to taste for comparison. She coughs and her eyes water.

Whoa! Rocket fuel. Are you trying to solve the energy crisis with this stuff?

Tossing the rest of the cider to the side, she doesn't notice that the flaming liquid has landed on the pet food near the tree; the cat food burns and heats the adjacent corn. Too late, she realizes the golden kernels sent by the Mudcat benefactor are popcorn. A small artillery section seems to have entered the tavern, as the popcorn kernels jump everywhere, landing in drinks and food and on sleeping animals and drunks.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: gnomad
Date: 12 Dec 05 - 07:43 PM

The sparks take effect on the cider vat, and the green fog vanishes, replaced by the steady flame of burning alcohol, gnomad frowns. "Well that's a bit of a waste, but I did warn no sparks..reminds me, I meant to keep back a bit of that grappa for lighting the primus stove..still waste not, want not."

He approaches the sword-wielding barbecuist "Would you like to take over this here fire-pot? You will be able to cook a lot of sausages, and can drink the fuel if you're careful. What is that thing anyway, some kind of black pudding?"

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Rapparee
Date: 12 Dec 05 - 07:03 PM

Four bottles of Stoli later, the woman starts to weep maudinly.

"Oh, hell. Why did I bother to overthrow that Capitalist Oppressor and free the elves from his iron hand? The ungrafetul...unGRATEful little bassards...din't do nothin' but FREE 'em...tried to make a wokrers padarise and see what happens...jis a buncha foo towt high mothe...."

And just then, the door to the deck opened and in walked the bearded man in the Carharts, his face somewhat smudged with what appears to be various shades of lipstick. He takes in the weeping woman in a moment, stops dead, and exclaims, "Oh, hell. Hortense Louise? Is that you??"

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 12 Dec 05 - 06:59 PM

Sage walks out to her pickup, opens the camper shell, and pulls out 2 gallons of apple cider fresh from a friend's cider mill. Back inside she pulls out another large pot, empties the jugs into it, follows with a handful of mulling spices, then turns it on low on a burner way at the side and the back of the industrial stove. A little augmentation is good, but the brew that Gnomad has conconcted has a greenish fog floating over it that would make John Carpenter proud. There are occasional little sparks emanating from the tainted pot, evidence that Gluon probably had a paw in the adulteration of this brew.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: gnomad
Date: 12 Dec 05 - 06:17 PM

"Sorry to keep you waiting, been getting cloves for the mulled cider. I see you've tried the red wine and the beer in that (_) but the handle seems to be loose. Shall I provide one of ours, yes a quart pot of course..and what would you like in it..can I tempt you to try the cider?"

He waves the ladle in what he considers an encouraging fashion, and succeeds in knocking a bowl of snails off the bar. They scatter noisily on the floor, attracting the attention of the duck, who moves in for the kill.

"Quick, help me shell these before the duck gets 'em. He's welcome to eat them but if he gets a whole one..well it ain't pretty." They scrabble on the floor, but are unable to get to all the escapees before the lady in red siezes the gnomad by the scalp.

"More Vodka, capitalist running dog!"

"I expect there's some behind the bar, but I don't know that brand. If you slip behind the bar, Maam, I mean Comrade, you can choose your yourself. Excuse me for the moment please, I need to rescue some oppressed masses for, I mean from, exploitation." he doesn't smile, nor does she. Her grip relaxes, and she stomps behind the bar. The gnomad drops to the floor, and grabs for the last snail but is beaten to it by the duck.

"Oh well, there's a warning not to get too closed behind him. Yes I'll bring the cider over, and thanks for the help with the snails, though I fear we didn't quite get them all. Have you tried the chocolate-dipped krill yet, any good?"

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Liz the Squeak
Date: 12 Dec 05 - 03:27 PM

Karbeep? Anudder pleesh.

(_)?

LTS

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: gnomad
Date: 12 Dec 05 - 01:06 PM

"Er..Maam? I have some fine lemon vodka here if that would help, I was about to put it in the mulled cider, but I think your need is probably greater." gnomad waves the bottle, he is careful not to smile in case it would be anti-revolutionary. The newcomer appears to dislike anti-revolutionary behaviour.

He ferrets in his pack again (could this be the source of the other sudden arival?) and triumphantly draws from it a monstrous bottle of grappa.."I'll be glad to stop lugging this one around."..he dips, stirs, and tastes in the now-established routine. The quaver in his voice is attributable to the Aurochs chile, honest, "This will be ready in just a moment, folks..just keep it away from flames and sparks." he upends the grappa bottle into the vat and goes over to the bar to badger Mmario for some cloves.

En route he passes GUEST, who is singing lustfully. "Aaah..Stranger? There's is some rude mulled cider if that would please you, and if you feel up to it perhaps we could have Oyster Nan to follow?" he shuffles on towards the bar.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: GUEST
Date: 12 Dec 05 - 12:09 PM

Liz's blue tit flutters down from the rafters and lands on Mrs. Clause's hat.

Carolling voices are heard outside the northern door, their feet crunching in the snow. Their choice of song is nontraditional.


My mistress is a shuttlecock composed of cork and feathers
Each battledore sits on her deck and bumps her on the leather,
But cast her off which way you will, she recoils to another still
Fa la la la la la la la la la la la la la.

My mistress is a tennis ball composed of cotton fine,
She's often struck against the wall and banded underline,
But if you would her wish fulfil You'd pop her in the hazard still,
Fa la la la la la la la la la la la la la.

My mistress is a virginal, and little cost will string her
She's often reared against the wall for any man to finger,
But if you would my mistress please you'd run division on her keys
Fa la la la la la la la la la la la la la.

My mistress is a cunny fine and of the finest skin
And if you'd care to open her the best part lies within,
Yet in her cunny burrow may two tumblers and a ferret play
Fa la la la la la la la la la la la la la.

My mistress is a tinder box, would I had such a one,
Her steel endureth many a knock both by the flint and stone,
And if you stir the tinder much the match will fire at the touch
Fa la la la la la la la la la la la la la.

But why should I my mistress call a shuttlecock or bauble,
A virginal, or tennis ball? Which things are variable,
But to commend I'll say no more: my mistress is an arrant whore
Fa la la la la la la la la la la la la la.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Rapparee
Date: 12 Dec 05 - 09:13 AM

The bag in the fireplace (the one in the south-southeastern corner) wriggles out, trailing ashes and soot. A Rambo-style knife blade appears and slits the sack open. Out crawls someone who is obviously upset, given the expletives she voices.

She throws the knife across the room, right between two of the squids tentacles, sticking it quivering into the wall.

Kicking herself free of the bag she stands and walks to the bar, asking for vodka in a loud voice and denouncing "those who betrayed the revolution" in one still louder.

He watches, quietly sippling his rock-and-rye....

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: My guru always said
Date: 12 Dec 05 - 08:27 AM

Surprising all the Tavern's residents, the door to the Recovery Ward swings open to reveal a Ferret and several Cats hanging onto the doorhandle. Dropping to the floor in a pile of fur, claws & teeth they hastily disentangle themselves - comrades in Arms they may be, but not necessarily good friends yet.

Scanning the Tavern the stray Tabby notices a lone Blue Tit, waving a card saying 'busted' from a game of Grass from the 70's, perched in the rafters. Mayhem ensues as she launches herself into the Christmas Tree closely followed by Clementime and the strangely inserted Ferret with Alice and Baby Fred bravely attempting to bring up the rear....

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 12 Dec 05 - 12:15 AM

Seems about time for some music! Anyone know any bawdy songs, so this alcohol that gnomad is bailing into the cider will have something to take hold of?

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: gnomad
Date: 11 Dec 05 - 08:05 PM

The gnomad returns from the washroom (in fact from the T&S in Whitby, but who knows that?) he carries his pack, and has ditched the banner with a strange device. Rummaging awhile he produces a silver bottle, "Ponche Cabalero...I remember this one, smells like cough medicine ought to...30 years since I got it in the Pyrenees...better check it first."

He dips a ladlefull of the mulled cider into the trusty tankard which only leaves his side to be lifted to his lips. Adding a brown syrupy goo from the bottle, he stirs it a while with his thumb, then sips, his eyebrows huddle together briefly, as the liquid slides down. "Not quite right yet, but promising."

He upends the bottle into the cider vat, and forages in the pack again, "All these bottles that seemed a good idea at the time...course the bloody Cointreau died in Bradford after a four hour trip that took fifteen, that would have been the right thing." he holds up a flat bottle marked Enzian-likor, but returns it to the pack, "Don't think that would help any, too bitter...Aha!!Lemon vodka, that's more like"

He repeats the ladle, add, stir, taste routine. This time the eyebrows are ready, and remain steady. "Smooth," say his lips, in a tone that would not convince a singularly deaf post, "Think I'll try the Aurochs chile before I continue the tasting, important to get it right after all."

He heads back towards the bar, where the flames are abating somewhat, "Ferret, eh? Where did that spring from? Weasily distinguished from a stoat of course, that would be stoatally different...Say, any of that Aurochs chile still going?"

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 11 Dec 05 - 03:04 PM

Sage takes a quick look in the tavern office behind the bar and notices that the google ads at the bottom of the screen are for Apple Cider Presses and something called "Savanah Mixes."

The message board at Google Central slows to a crawl as the room full of people shouts "slow it down, I'm not done with that line yet" as they read along, rapt at the adventures in the Mudcat Tavern.

"I wonder how we can spice that up?" one of the techies softly says to himself. He reaches for his keyboard and types in "F-E-R-R-E-T."

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: gnomad
Date: 11 Dec 05 - 02:28 PM

Gnomad shambles over to the bar, but this does not appear to be a good moment to ask Mmario about the doedicurus, as he is still fighting the Phoenix dish.."Salmon looks good, though, I'll have some of that."

He helps himself, and looks over towards the fire, where a figure is beating out the flames with one hand, while apparently toasting some sort of sausage-on-a-sword with the other.."He's going to knock over that vat of mulled cider if he isn't careful..better go rescue it, but I'm not touching that sack, it doesn't sound like my kind of sack at all."

The vat smells as though it has been simmering a long time, all spicy, and the fruit has almost disintegrated.."Anyone mind if I freshen this up a little, got something in my pack should do the trick?" he makes for the washroom door.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Rapparee
Date: 11 Dec 05 - 01:42 PM

He sits on the floor in the corner, sipping a hot mokli and rum flambee, and toasts another blutwurst, impaled upon his sword, over the flames. "Can't beat it," he thinks, "the drinking makes it possible to do the eatin'." And he continues to listen to the music in his head, even if he can't figure out the words or the melody.

And then a loud swoosh and the place shakes like a bomb went off nearby. A sack thuds into the fireplace, scattering the fire and embers, and as various folks take various actions to put out the result, a woman's voice is heard from within the sack, yelling obscenities and profanities and denouncing her former "comrades."

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Geoff the Duck
Date: 11 Dec 05 - 01:14 PM

Following the rumpus and cacophony of the dogs, cats, squirrels and inexplicable lone ferret, Geoff's attention returns to the length of the bar. He watches in long fascination as MMario tackles his latest addition to the menu. It seems as if Phoenix Flambee may have been a slight misjudgement, as every time he gets it burning nicely there is a sudden flare-up followed by a pile of ashes containing a single large red, blue and green specked egg.
Perhaps it might be better to just boil the egg and have done with it?
Ah!
Such is life...

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: gnomad
Date: 11 Dec 05 - 11:19 AM

"Wonder what's happened to my punctuation since coming in here? Can't be the Calvados, I've only had a few sips yet... I could offer that squirrel some of these nuts, but they are smoked, it might think I was being sarcastic."

Gnomad eases his way back to the table, giving the assembled dogs a wide berth. "Chocolate dipped krill as a desert?" he muses "sounds a bit fishy to me, still, try everything once, except incest and folk dancing. Never been tempted by incest, but he had a point about the dancing, my knees won't take it any more."

Thinks "I'll risk the nuts. Then maybe the lady with the oranges, cookies, and the pint mug of wine will tell me about the krill, she looks like someone who would know."

"Do you think your friend would like some smoked almonds?"

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 11 Dec 05 - 10:18 AM

Cinnamon the pitbull and Poppy the heeler/catahoula have sat quietly as they were told (unlike at home where commands are considered suggestions only) and are all a-quiver to sort out the critters. When their friend the squirrel is carted toward the door their control breaks. Cinnamon goes into stalker mode and moves carefully, slowly, one-foot-moves-at-a-time-entire-dog-level-and-almost-invisible-to-prey

step step run run POUNCE

and there is an explosion of activity. Poppy races in an arc around the cats, nipping and herding them into the doorway. Ducks fly up to the rafters. Cinnamon snatches up the ill-behaving cat with the squirrel still in it's mouth, and happily deposits both at Sage's feet, giving the cat a final big lick. Reaching down to retrieve the wet and nearly-bald squirrel, now looking more like a long skinny rat, she has a passing thought that the big kitten is going to be busy for a while. Washing off industrial-strength dog slobber may require this cat spend time in the recovery ward. She slips the squirrel back into her jacket pocket. "Poppy, head 'em into the ward, that's a good girl," and Gnomad sets down his handful of nuts, steps over to the closet door and quickly opens it wide. "Clear out the loo while you're at it, good girl!" he says, and Poppy makes a loop through the bathroom and more critters head down the hall and slip into the darkened doorway, under the coats. The squid seems to be exempt from all of this, but everything, including a heretofore unmentioned ferret races out of the room, Poppy nipping at their butts, and disappear into the Recovery Ward. Poppy appears in the tavern again a moment later, dopey happy expression on her face as she wags her pleasure at such work.

Someone in the back of the room, transfixed with the cyclonic dog activity, is heard to say "Wow. I hope Spaw doesn't turn up in there today--Ratched is bound to be on a rampage with all of these critters."

While no one is looking, Cinnamon grips the corner of the dog food bag. Her slim hips and waist perfectly still, her broad head and shoulders are a blur as she gives it a huge shake, bursting the sack and broadcasting dog food over the floor. The dogs then happily munch their way around packages under the tree.

A merganzer in a snit decends from the rafters and perches on the open sack of corn. Poppy, always wanting to be helpful, snurfles the duck and seems to understand his request. In a doggie twinkling, the 50# bag of corn is tipped over, broadcasting corn across the floor.

Sage crunches into the room bearing a platter. "Salmon, anyone? Here's another batch ready from the grill."

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: SINSULL
Date: 11 Dec 05 - 09:35 AM

Freddie emerges victorious, a bedraggled squirrel held gently in his mouth. Alice proudly struts behind her progeny and the two of them head for the North door.

Note from SINS: "Somebody please stop them. I am still trying to locate the dead vermin currently rotting away somewhere in my sunroom."

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: gnomad
Date: 11 Dec 05 - 06:59 AM

There is a brief kerfuffle as the washroom door opens to readmit the gnomad, through the door can be seen a number of animals scrabbling and pouncing on each other. The gnomad has been interrupted in mid-toilet, he is cleaner, and has shed the aroma along with his outer garments. He remains hairy and rather dishevelled, but looks otherwise fairly civilised.

Crossing the room to a vacant table, he folds his towel and returns it to the google carrier bag. "Glad I could rescue that at least, always like to know where it is." He sits, repeatedly searches various pockets, and eventually finds his spectacles. He scans the menu, "Hmm, Patagonian Doedicurus� dunno what it is, but it sounds big, and seems to be on special"

Heading for the bar he calls out the order "and can I get you anything from the bar while I'm there? I think I'll be having Calvados myself."

He busies himself behind the bar, murmuring as he does so, "can rescue the rest of my gear when those animals have finished in there...think I'll leave the banner here for decoration...Don't fancy being found dead in a snowdrift with that in my hand...don't fancy being found dead at all, come to that."

He finds a large bag of smoked almonds, rips it open, tips it into a handy bowl, and starts nibbling. He sips the Calvados, and the mug of cocoa which seems to be ownerless on the bar. "Not a lot of music for a Mudcat get-together, think I'll try a quiet one while I wait for that whatever it was, see how it goes down." He steps round the bar, props his back against it, and sings softly..

"Christmas is now drawing near at hand,
Come serve the Lord, and be at His command,
And God a portion for you will provide,
And give a blessing to your soul beside.

Down in the garden where flowers grow in ranks,
Down on your bended knees and give the Lord thanks,
Down on your knees and pray both night and day,
Leave off your sins, and live upright I pray.

So proud and lofty is some sort of sin,
Which many take delight and pleasure in,
Whose conversation God doth much dislike,
And yet He shakes his sword before He strikes.

So proud and lofty do some people go,
Dressing theirselves like players in a show,
They patch and paint and dress with idle stuff,
As if God had not made them fine enough.

Even little children learn to curse and swear,
And can�t rehearse one word of Godly prayer,
Oh, teach them better, Oh, teach them to rely
On Christ the sinners� friend, who reigns on high."

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Liz the Squeak
Date: 11 Dec 05 - 05:41 AM

Ah Sins, if only you knew how fiction mirrors truth. Cute little kitten Raven bought us a present Friday evening and carefully placed it under the tree we have waiting for its baubles... half a mouse gift wrapped in intestines.

Being a bad kitty he didn't wait until Christmas and started to unwrap it there and then.

Meanwhile, I am all St Nicholas'ed out after our concert last night, and if I never see another bloody timpani it will be too soon!

Pass me the sloe gin, got to keep the throat supple, 2 more carol concerts and 2 more carol singing sessions to go!

LTS

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: SINSULL
Date: 10 Dec 05 - 11:05 PM

Meantime, Alice slinks back through the North door with her precious Baby Fred, Killer of Squirrels and Chipmunks, in tow. "I think he's over here in the bathroom", she hisses. Baby Fred follows, padding lightly and watching curiously for his next prey. "The perfect gift for Mom. I will slip it under the tree carefully killed and bloodless."

Creep, creep, creep...POUNCE!!!!!

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 10 Dec 05 - 11:03 PM

Now for the good stuff! shouts a down-trodden underpaid woodcarver elf.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Rapparee
Date: 10 Dec 05 - 08:39 PM

Meanwhile, up at The Pole:

"Comrades!" said Comrade Nadezhda Krupskaya Claus (nee Mrs. Santa), "We have overthrown the corrupt bourgeoise oppressor! The means of production are in the hands of the downtrodden workers! Let us make a workers paradise here, where everyone works for the good of all! Let us make a peaceful soviet, a commune from which the gifts made by our hands will spread the Good Word to children everywhere, and by our example the revolution we have begun here will eventually engulf the world!

"Yay!! screamed several hundred elves.

"Bullshit," muttered the one called Leon Trotsky Dugashvilii. "That ain't he way the world works." And his cohorts nodded wisely at this observation.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: GUEST
Date: 10 Dec 05 - 06:15 PM

Just as Liz the Squeak lifted the beer to her lips, a blue tit fluttered onto the bar in front of her and dropped a shiny foil-wrapped piece of dark chocolate.

"Busted," the bird chirped.

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Liz the Squeak
Date: 09 Dec 05 - 06:30 PM

Isn't that an oxymoron ~ lovely young ladies/denizens of this place?

I for one wouldn't mind if he would just recover his hand from where it is at the moment and pass me my beer!

LTS

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Rapparee
Date: 09 Dec 05 - 05:45 PM

Meanwhile Santa is still in recovery, enjoying the hot tub with six or seven of the female denizens of this place, his mind leaping without a backward glance from dowdy Mrs. Claus to the lovely young ladies with whom he is conversing.

And back at The Pole, Mrs. Claus is trying to deal with an Elf Revolution....

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 09 Dec 05 - 04:24 PM

Just luck--and cats can't read. :)

Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
From: MMario
Date: 09 Dec 05 - 03:43 PM

I'm surprised you got away with feeding the ducks before the cats! You notice Gluon helped himself - but then again, he usually does - or will, orr would have, depending on circumstance. Sometime it is that he shall have.