 sj |
||
|
||
BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005)
|
|
|
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: 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: 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: 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 - 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: Geoff the Duck Date: 16 Dec 05 - 07:42 PM |
|
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: 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: 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 - 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: SINSULL Date: 18 Dec 05 - 11:25 AM The MAngy Menagerie Manger Chorus gives up on the Drummer Boy and launches into "Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer" ... Walking home from our house Christmas Eve. You may say there's no such thing as Santa But as for me and Grandpa, we believe... But no one joins in on the chorus so they drift off in different directions. Freddie and Alice take their new found friend, the squirrel, over to the bar and pour him a strong one. "Squirrel Bourbonnaise" whispers Alice and Freddie pours him a double. "My buddy, my buddy Nobody quite like you..." Croons the slightly inebriated vermin, all tail, no fur. The three lock arms and head for the North Door. "Come on" says Freddie. "There's a nice warm bed at our place. "Awww, you guys are the best" sloshes the squirrel. And the door shuts carefully behind them. Alice slips back and grabs some salmon. "Never cared much for squirrel" she purrs. "Too bony. A little salmon, a little wine...nice end to an evening" |
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005) From: SINSULL Date: 18 Dec 05 - 11:35 AM SINSULL sighs and calls or the dogs to intervene. Meantime she wanders over to the JELL-O pit and tries to extract the sticky, hairy mess that is barely able to keep itself afloat. "Something in aspic", she muses, grabs it by the scruff of its neck and gives a heave. Nasty noise like a cow walking in mud, a cry of freedom, and it lands safely on the side of the pool as SINSULL loses her balance and catapults in head first. ]\$##^*&!@#!!! CRAP! I hate Christmas. |
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005) From: SINSULL Date: 18 Dec 05 - 11:50 AM The scent of roasting sausage distracts her from her current predicament. "Is that a Lionel "O" gauge, with engine, tender, boxcar, tank car, flatcar, and caboose. I don't see the original transformer but no, DON'T plug it in! The track (3 rail) is rusted. Get the dirt and dust off the train. But don't plug in the transformer! Don't!" Note to self: Finish wrapping the goddam presents and stop fooling around. |
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005) From: Liz the Squeak Date: 18 Dec 05 - 05:00 PM There's the sound of a low powered motor scooter outside... followed by a knock on the door. 'Who ordered the Christmas Pizza special?' 'What's Christmas Pizza?' 'Deep pan, crisp and even!' I'll get me stocking. LTS |
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005) From: Dave Earl Date: 19 Dec 05 - 04:12 AM Arriving rather later than others and muttering things about "work" being a four letter word ending in "k", Breton Cap asks is the party still going and have you any real ale left? Just the ale please I've had enough chocolate. If you've no ale I'll have a single malt. Who or what is that lying on the floor over there? |
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005) From: MMario Date: 19 Dec 05 - 08:51 AM Someone charge a round for the entire house on Bert's card, will you? I got to show off my spiffy brand new grand-niece saturday at a party for HRH Albert - she upstaged both Al and Her Majesty Victoria - her first public perforance - and at 8 days old! |
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005) From: Rapparee Date: 19 Dec 05 - 09:06 AM Eating his toasted sausage and quaffing a flagon of rum, he sits on the floor with his naked blade across his lap, running a model locomotive around and around and saying, "Choochoochoochoo WHOO WHOOO choochoochoo...." until everyone nearby has been driving nuts. |
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005) From: Donuel Date: 19 Dec 05 - 09:29 AM With his dog Grommette which seems to be growing 1 cm. per hour, donuel is at the table sketching a picture of Martin Gibson, the haloed Saint of Mudcat, who is depicted spreading love, encouragement and good cheer. |
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005) From: Liz the Squeak Date: 19 Dec 05 - 01:36 PM Oh dear.... oh dear oh dear oh dear..... You might want to leave that ladies bathroom for a while... don't use any redneck airfresheners in there.... Can we have a window open please? LTS |
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005) From: Rapparee Date: 19 Dec 05 - 05:16 PM In another corner, Santa Claus and his wife, Hortense Louise Claus, are busily making up their differences in a very snuggly fashion. Indeed, an onlooker might feel that it was an inspiring performance if anyone was impolite enough to look. Several empty bottles surround their chosen couch.<.i> And putting his model trains away, wiping the grease and soot off his sword and sheathing it, he finishes off the flagon and falls, face forward, to sleep. |
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005) From: SINSULL Date: 19 Dec 05 - 05:21 PM HEY! Is someone going to get me out of the JELL-O pit? |
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005) From: Stilly River Sage Date: 19 Dec 05 - 10:31 PM Sage has finished washing the dogs and they're asleep in the Mudcat Tavern office, curled up in the armchairs. Spying the slimy green badger, she drags it into the same tub and gives it a quick hose off with the showerhead on a hose. "Thanks! I needed that!" claims the badger, who then ambles back into the tavern. SINS seems to be in the pit, but not enjoying herself, so Sage snags the harness from over near the decorated Silver Fir tree and swings it to where Sinsull can reach it. "Catch!" The harness, neglected for the last couple of years, responds to this attention by magically scooping Sinsull out of the pit--and depositing her in the rafters. Well, think about it. It could be worse. You could find yourself duct taped to the loo like happened to Liz the Squeak a few years back. Good thing they put in fixtures that duct tape doesn't stick to now. |
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005) From: Liz the Squeak Date: 20 Dec 05 - 04:37 AM I seem to have a bad loo aura..... bad things happen to me in there..... LTS |
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005) From: SINSULL Date: 20 Dec 05 - 11:02 AM Great! Here I am covered with sticky green stuff, stuck in the rafters with an odd assortment of ducks, cats, and god knows what else. Maybe, I will shimmy down the Christmas tree, go home and take a shower - assuming the squirrel isn't loose in the house and being chased up and down the walls. (Grumble) |
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005) From: MMario Date: 20 Dec 05 - 11:29 AM shimmy on down the Christmas tree it's a jello cover'd world Sin's hanging there with the birds and beasts And doesn't want to drop. Shimmy on down the Christmas tree, Let the Christmas spirits flow She'd like to shower when she gets down so lets not let her go! you will get a sentimental Feeling when you see Sinsull covered with dried up jello Have a drink and lets get mello! Shimmy on down the christmas tree.... |
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005) From: MMario Date: 20 Dec 05 - 12:28 PM an odd silence pervades the Tavern as all (not yet un-conscious) beings stare upwards into the rafters - from whence small quivering green spheriods threaten to drop towards the floor. |
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005) From: Geoff the Duck Date: 20 Dec 05 - 07:37 PM Geoff atches in amazement as Sinsull is gently lowered from the rafters and down to a soft padded stool at the bar. He sends a flagon of anber coloured, but deceptively strong ale to comfort and refresh, following a traumatic experience. |
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005) From: Geoff the Duck Date: 20 Dec 05 - 07:44 PM Geoff hasn't "ATCHED" for some good length of time..... it brings back memories! |
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005) From: Leadfingers Date: 20 Dec 05 - 08:23 PM The phone rings , but no one answers it , and the Men In Tights are left wondering if there will be any food or booze left when they get in tomorrow ! Work is INDEED the curse of the drinking classes . |
|
Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Tavern Holiday erudition (2005) From: Leadfingers Date: 20 Dec 05 - 08:23 PM 200 !!! |
