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Mudcat Tavern: Welcome Home Party
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Subject: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: JenEllen Date: 29 Jun 01 - 04:42 PM "What a mess.." she thinks to herself as she grabs a broom and dustrag. This place has been empty for a while, and frankly, still smells a bit like possum, but in the scant few seconds it takes to clean cyberspace, the tavern is open and ready for the WELCOME HOME PARTY!!! The stage is cleaned off and the trapdoor still works. The jello pit is full of glistening green jiggle. The jukebox has all of your favourite songs. The snuggle pit is fluffed and ready for all sorts of creatures. The neighbors have been warned. The bar is completely stocked, and by the looks of the mail, Bert's paid the credit card off. All done and humming songs about civets and mynah birds, the woman opens the door to the tavern. She then pours herself a tall cold one and props her feet on the barstool beside her, ready to welcome everyone home. |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Jack the Sailor Date: 29 Jun 01 - 05:17 PM "This tastes like Crap!" he said. "Not bad!" He savoured the rich aroma of his coffee and wondered how his wife had found out about his mistress. "Perhaps that nosey kid with the Cherios on his breath had told her. Should have minded my business. Should have let him drive away."
She hears him mumbling to himself and wonders whether she should talk with him or just turn up the jukebox. |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Peter K (Fionn) Date: 29 Jun 01 - 05:19 PM Must be a hell of a party going on somewhere else... |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Geoff the Duck Date: 29 Jun 01 - 05:24 PM Yeah, but what's a party when you can't get into th kitchen! |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Peter T. Date: 29 Jun 01 - 05:36 PM A somewhat disshevelled figure, since he had pawned his shevells in order to purchase the surprise gift, enters quickly,and goes to Mistress PushmiPullu, and pulls out from his raincoat a large package, and says with a shaky voice: "Here, for the pppartty", and rushes back out into the gathering brightness. Mistress PushmiPullu puts down her broom, gingerly opens the package, and sees a green jello mold in the shape of something unmentionable and embedded within it an array of small marshmallows spelling out the words: "Heron Go Braugh!". She shrugs, and puts it on the bar, thinking to herself, something like bringing coals to Newcastle, For He's A Jelly Good Jello and so on, and then remembers that there is some Newcastle Brown Ale somewhere, and it had better be on tap as well. |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Kim C Date: 29 Jun 01 - 05:37 PM Safira Yasmeen will now perform the new belly dance she just learned. ;-) |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Ian Stephenson Date: 29 Jun 01 - 06:03 PM A creaking noise is heard from one dark corner of the room.. a door with "gentlemen" faintly visible on its cracked surface swings open, and from it a hunched shadow of a man emerges, hobbling towards the light. "how the bloomin' nora did I get there...grunt" at which point he promtly falls over and is silent in a heap on the floor. It is determined from his name-tag that this figure is none other than "Hall Monitor". His face was turning blue. It became evident that this was due to the fact that the sun had moved west since his fall, and a ray of sunlight was illuminating his face, heavily stained with blue food colouring. He seemed to be the butt of a severe practical joke gone HORRIBLY WRONG. but who was the culprit? who'll be caught blue handed THIS time? |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Matt_R Date: 29 Jun 01 - 06:08 PM Ha ha! Does anyone mind if I play "Fiesta" by the Pogues? |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: JenEllen Date: 29 Jun 01 - 06:10 PM As Mistress Pushmipullu turns up little Ricky on the jukebox, she realizes "Damn, the cheerios..I knew I forgot something! Sorry Rob, have some more coffee?" She winds back through some folks trying to force their way into the kitchen (where's MMario with the keys?) and past the translucent scarves and hypnotic sway of Safira Yasmeen herself. How did we get so lucky? She returns to her barstool just as Dishevelled'n'Dubious enters the tavern. The golden velour lounge pillow in the nightclub of her heart, tassles and all. She winced slightly as he reached into his overcoat, the deja vu of the Cygnus Loop from the last exploding supernova to grace the tavern haunting her, she shakily accepts the package he offers. "Heron Go Braugh?", she thinks. She's seen the discovery channel, herons go braugh-less. She then remembers the sage words her nana told her about not eating anything that's been in someone's armpit, it went something like "Don't eat anything that's been in someone's armpit.", and she set the quivering marshmellow-studded unmentionable in the pie case as she went in search of the Newcastle Brown. ~Mlle Pullu
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Amos Date: 29 Jun 01 - 06:32 PM There was a sudden splintering, crashing, sound exploding outward into the dusty, mumbling and imbibing ranks scattered here and there on the tavern's shadowed floors, and the wide and sturdy kitchen doors swung violently outward, propelled by the screaming throbbing bubbling power of a 1939 Indian in full flight, having lifted off from the ramp-like Jello Brick Assembly Line which runs along the inner wall of the great Mudcat Tavern Kitchen. The giant machine, balanced like a heron in a glide, rced across the Tavern interior and landed in perfect two-pont form along the edge of the jello pit. Shrieking in protest, the giant motorcycle. sideslipping and turning, slammed to a halt on the dance floor, slewing through a perfect 180-degree sliding stop. Gleaming in chrome and chaos, it balanced for a single ineffable moment in time, its huge mufflers burbling happily as its smoking brakes cooled and calmed in the quiet afternoon light. Swinging the stand down with a practiced twist of a knee-high buttersoft leatherboot, a tall, long haired man wearing a trenchcoat that went nearly to his ankles swung himself onto the deck of the Tavern. He wore a wide-brimmed bushranger's hat, curled cockily up on one side, and a mane of long brown hair which clung neatly to his muscled neck, brushing his shoulders as he swung a piercing glance across the crowd. At his back, a padded guitar case of Dreadnought proportion; at his waist, a strange utility belt; and on his shoulder, trig fur gleaming in the dappling sunlight, a huge Capuchin monkey carefully guarded his balance with one hand touching lightly on the stranger's neck, while the other waved with interest across the species boundary at the curious onlookers sucking up booze at the bar. The tall stranger strode toward the bar, the monkey swaying gracefully on his broad shoulder; he doffed the wide-brimmed hat, leaned across the shined mahogany surface, and looked deep into the shimmering, fire-blue eyes of the redheaded beauty who manned it. "I opened the kitchen for ye," he said smiling. "Does that earn me a pint of yer best brown stuff?" |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: JenEllen Date: 29 Jun 01 - 06:45 PM "Sure thing, Tiger, but what's the monkey having?" she smiles, "and would someone mind explaining that little blue feller on the floor? It's a bit early in the evening to be smurfed on the turf, isn't it?" ~Mlle Pullu |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Geoff the Duck Date: 29 Jun 01 - 06:53 PM The screech of car tyres outside the door, followed by the crash of a bumper scattering trash cans across the sidewalk, resonated through a cracked window. A door slammed, and in the silence which followed, Mistress PushmiPullu thought that she could hear the distinctive, uneven step of a limping man approaching the Tavern. A head peered round the door. Is this the emergency 24 hour chiropodist? the man said hopefully, my bunion is killing me! Sit down croaked the blue faced recumbent figure, I'll be with you once I figure out what the heck I am doing under this table!.
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Amos Date: 29 Jun 01 - 06:56 PM The stranger glanced along the dark, perfectly aligned skid marks of the Indian's landing track to where the fair Keepstress was pointing. "Huh!" he remarked. "The monkey will have the half-pint size of the same, thanks, and as for that blue blur on the deck, I believe it's that disheveled poet wandered through here without watching for crossing traffic. Hmmm -- he does look awful disheveled smurfed out like that, but maybe I can help!" He reached deep into the inside pockets of the voluminous trenchcoat and pulled out a strange brown paper package, wrapped up in string. Laying it on the bar he deftly slid the knots and laid back the wrapper, revealing a beautiful, perfectly matched set of curved, balanced and firm shevels. Lifting one in each hand and hefting them thoughtfully, he glanced at the Keepstress and turned to the blue smudge, which stirred with the application of the finely formed and weighted shevels and rose up full-formed anew, babbling inspired couplets in Elizabethan terms, and staggered up to the bar to beg for an ale of his own. |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: JenEllen Date: 29 Jun 01 - 07:07 PM "Couplets for Ian the Blue? Let's see, if I can remember this... (my couplets runneth over at times) Give me women wine and snuff Until I cry out hold enough You may do so sans objection Tll the day of resurrection For bless my beard they aye shall be My beloved trinity Geoff, you came to the right place. Have a drink and let Safire walk on your back for ya, that'll set you right. And a pint and a half for the guy with the monkey on his back, shevells and all. Keep those things around, I may have a use for them later." ~grinning Pullu |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: GUEST,Palm Civet Date: 29 Jun 01 - 07:32 PM Is it time for me to Sing yet? She nodded solemly and as I took the stage, noticed a lonely Bodrhan player huddled in the corner. "I could use some accompaniment." I smiled As I started crooning my celtic version of "Do that to me one more time" a hran appeared in every right hand and a tipper in every right. A dark figure took out an UZI. As the din abated he looked at the man on the floor and said "I see you've been bobbing for coffee beans. Don't you hate it when they put that blue stuff in the flush box?" As te Bodhrans were converted to nacho bowls things started to return to Norma....... The way they were before. |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Jon Freeman Date: 29 Jun 01 - 07:38 PM I wander in, tatty and with no airs and graces about me as usual. I ask the owner about spaw, passing comment that I thought the new sign was there to welcome him home and that I can't see him around. I then say "Oh Well, put a double Jim Beam in for the old bugger, I'm sure regardless of what doc's may say, it will do him good and I'm convinced he will enjoy it", pay up and leave quietly. Jon (good to see you back spaw) |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Bill D Date: 29 Jun 01 - 07:45 PM wanders in....sits quietly in the corner and orders a nice IPA and waits to see who shows up..... |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Amos Date: 29 Jun 01 - 08:35 PM The dark-haired stranger wrapped the rounded, firm shevels in their proper brown paper wrapper again, and redid the strings. By the dim light over the bar, it could be seen that the word "Braugh!" was neatly printed on the often-used wrapper, but whether it referred to the holder, the owner, or the delicately rounded instruments of healing within, one could not readily discern. Slipping the packet into the mysterious folds of his trenchcoat, he carried his huge "Mudcat" 1.5-quart glass brimming and foaming with a rich brown brew, the monkey dancing cheerfully along his wode shoulders, to a table in the shadows, and proceeded to unsling the shining mapled Dreadnought, and finger it meditatively, humming. Fending off the monkeys occasional effort to experiment with the gleaming tuners, he ran a few gentle riffs, ringing out quiet tones as bright and gleaming as the polished instrument itself in the dappled light. He took a long draft of the brown brew, and lit a thin cheroot with an ancient battered Zippo lighter with a scarred Admiralty anchor embossed on its brass lid. He stretched his lanky legs, the long soft leather boots protruding from under the table into the dance floor, and smiled. He was truly home, and knew it better than any words could say.
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Sorcha Date: 29 Jun 01 - 08:46 PM Jeeze, it's about time somebody opened this place up again! I sure hope the air conditioning is cranked up--it's 97 F/ @35 C at my place---too bloody hot!! Better than yesterday, tho; the high was 107 F/close to 40 C. Too hot to think, let alone get anything done. Somebody pour me something. As long as it's cold and alcoholic, I don't care what it is. Maybe we should play some Scandinavian or Innuit music to cool things off, what 'cha say? Fins Jenta? |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: GUEST,RobDale at the Bar Date: 29 Jun 01 - 09:01 PM Hi Jen. I'll have a Chevis Regal, a Jack Daniels and a Molson Dry please. Who is the guest of honour? Tell me about him. |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: JenEllen Date: 29 Jun 01 - 09:16 PM Mistress PushmiPullu walks over behind the bar and says, "You got them glitter go-go cages done for me and my tassled squirrels in record-time Sorch. For you, I'll crank the air to 'arctic' and pour you any darn thing you want, but so help me hannah, if you punch up the theme from Ice Castles on the jukebox again...." she threateningly brandishes a paper umbrella. "....and our song-darling of the day, Rob! You should have been here earlier, the civet was doing Captain and Tenille again. I swear, that sends me straight to the deck every damn time. By the way, he left something for you on the stage..." she grins as she sets up his drinks. "And our guest of honor? You'll hear him clacking, but mostly the tavern is a nice spot to come home to and share...Like our lovely sapphire-studded beauty over there," pointing to Safira, "since the last tavern, she's taken up the dance and now she's gone and brought that shimmy home. Hang around a bit and you'll never know what you might see next." ~Mlle Pullu |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: JeZeBeL Date: 29 Jun 01 - 09:21 PM A stranger, with bleached hair that went wrong, but still looks cool in kind of a funky way....that no one has ever seen before walks shyly into the bar, wondering who on earth would be holding a welcome home party at this time in the morning (2:17qm), and why on earth she was still awake. She mumbles "oh well" and walks across the room saying hi to all these new faces and asks mistress pullu for a double JD and a pint of her finest ale. She looks around and sees musicians sitting round tables laughing and drinking, and cringes as she asks if anyone would mind another bodhran player joining in........ |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: GUEST,Rob at the Bar Date: 29 Jun 01 - 09:34 PM Sounds good, but I can't drink anymore alcohol. Give me a pitcher of Coors Light please. By the way, has anybody seen my civet costume? I think I left in the Men's room? |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: JenEllen Date: 29 Jun 01 - 09:42 PM "Welcome JeZeBeL!! Are you legal?" grins Pullu as she sets up her drinks. "You can join in anywhere you like, if you know something icy, sing it for Sorcha, okay?"
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: GUEST,SOOTRDOPCBBASRTB Date: 29 Jun 01 - 10:16 PM A rather portly man sitting and the end of the bar is joined by a slightly less portly man in abn ill-fitting United States Postal Service uniform. He starts to speak in a generic New England accent. It is a little known fact that the earliest examples of the modern bodhran were made in the area which we now know as the Pacific North West. They were made out of civet hides and decorated with pictures of Mynah Birds. That is why even to this day the Bodhran is traditionally tuned to a minor key. The dark figure begs the bodhran players to start playing again. Palm Civet walks approaches the monkey with lust in her eyes. RobDale, pays his tab, leaving a generous tip for Mlle P.P, and waves to the regulars as he leaves. "I'll be back in a little while. I'm just going into town to buy a set of bagpipes." Cheers everyone! Thanks for the kind words Jen SomeOneOtherThanRobDaleOrPalmCivetButBearingAStrikingResemnlenceToBoth |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Rt Revd Sir jOhn from Hull Date: 29 Jun 01 - 11:00 PM A man wearing a hat walks into the bar, cant decide wether to take it off or not. |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: katlaughing Date: 29 Jun 01 - 11:06 PM Psalterykat psauntered through the pswinging doors, her cool demeanour betrayed by the glistening psheen on her brow. Pstill pslinking pslowly across the room, pshe psat on one of the bar pstools and psaid, "Oh, dahlin' womon, mix me up a cool amaretto and psour, if you please, for Ah feel quite faint from aw this heat." |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: JenEllen Date: 29 Jun 01 - 11:13 PM Man walks into a bar? OUCH! Mistress PushmiPullu lays her towel on the bar and unties her apron, shift is over! "Okay, the last drink I pour tonight is for the psultry psaltrykat, gorgeous wilted thing that you be. Maybe you'd like to join Sorcha in the psnow-psong psection of the tavern right up close to the A/C?" ~Pushmi
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Sorcha Date: 29 Jun 01 - 11:58 PM The Orca Wail has spent the last several hours in the Plain Water Pool......so cooling listening to Snow Deer, Jingle Bells,White Christmas, (etc), so let's make it Christmas In July.....(well, it's almost July!)
Can't believe it's still 85/28 here......I know this is the Bannana Belt of Wyoming, but this is ridiculous!! Welcome Home, Dear Friends and Merry Christmas to you all!! (If it weren't so hot, I would make Figgy Pudding!) |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Amos Date: 30 Jun 01 - 12:09 AM The tall stranger slips the Dreadnought into its case, bottoms down the last six ounces of Orful Brown stuff and walks over toward the jukebox, slapping his widebrimmed bushrangers hat firmly into position. The Capuchin reels affectionately, hanging onto the man's shoulder-length hauir for stability and grins ebulliently at all and sundry as they pass. From behind the jukebox, the stranger wheels out the gigantic 1939 Indian, and reflects on the night when he first won it from the Universe by leaping off a speeding Harley into a ghostly green-furred limousine. Ah, the memories! With a deft swing of his leg, he mounts up and fires the gigantic engine into a deep liquid purr, bubbling inbto the dark Tavern corners with a bassoprofundo power reminiscent of the motor yacht Sequoia. He settles intot he saddle and with a twist of his wrist, the giant bike leaps out through the Tavern's front door, over the gravel apron past the moon-pinned coolibahs along the winding road, and down, along, around and away upon the faint twisting two-lane blacktop road cascading through the silvering moonlight, chasing he knows not what, leading he knows not where, a journey forever certain that it is moving, and forever joyful. |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Sorcha Date: 30 Jun 01 - 12:41 AM too many adjectives Amos......good thoughts, but too many adjectives.......and Merry Christmas to you, darlin'! |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: catspaw49 Date: 30 Jun 01 - 12:51 AM Ah but Sorch, it's all in the adjectives. It's the true charm that makes Amos famous! Love it Amos............. Spaw |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Sorcha Date: 30 Jun 01 - 01:17 AM spaw, what the H are you doing up at this hour??? You supposed to be Resting, Eating,Farting, ect......
Adjectives--why use 4 when 1 will do? I stand by my point, and too many adjectives make it more difficult to read even if it is fun. Orca the Wail (somebody ought to write a song about that..) |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Amos Date: 30 Jun 01 - 02:01 AM Geez, guys, if ida thought I was submitting this for effing critique I wulda tried to make it more Papaesque: The beer was brown. Two inches were left in the glass. He guzzled. Along his broad back the drunk monkey swayed. "Goodbye," waved the monkey. "Goodbye!". The man kept going to the back of the room. The giant Indian was waiting, gleaming. He tossed one boot over the smooth worn saddle and stomped down on the starter. The engine roared. The Indian leapt outward, foward, through the door. And disappeared. Down the road. The winding blacktop. A taillight blinked, and the deep roar folded into the deep night. "Goodbye". |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: JenEllen Date: 30 Jun 01 - 02:15 AM A sultry voice from a table in the corner pipes in as the darling PushmiPullu looks up from her songbook, "Gawdamn...someone gets a little bit cranky when she's hot, don't she? There's got to be a song in there somewhere, she says...hmmm..." Sorcha's Song (Spanish Ladies)
I'm cutting you off
The hamsters are loose
So, think chilly thoughts
luv,
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: hesperis Date: 30 Jun 01 - 03:05 AM Not MY hamsters, I hope? (Though that would be a funny sight, I doubt they'd like it much...) Hessy walks right up to the bar, and sets a box on the shining (sortof) surface. She is wearing snakeskin, and is obviously revelling in the heat. (It makes her hair even more beautiful than norm - the way it usually is.) "I brought hummus and flatbread! Well, corn chips, but they're sort of flat." She said. Everyone else in the room stared at Hessy. "What's in it?" "Chickpeas and spices and garlic." "Oh, I love that stuff!" Someone said, reaching for it. "Be careful! It's got a LOT of garlic in it." "Oh, that's ok, I love garlic." "I mean, It's got A LOT of garlic -" "What the-?!!!!!!!!!!" :choke, gasp, cough, water streams from eyes: Hessy casts a helpless look around the room, and shrugs. |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: nutty Date: 30 Jun 01 - 05:14 AM I've heard about this place but I've never been before. I hesitate as I reach the door and listen . I can here music - Irish music? - but it sounds good so I pluck up all my courage, I open the door and step inside. There I stand (knees knocking slightly) but no-one takes any notice. In the corner ... huddled round the air- conditioning are the musicians . "Musicians" ... well I use the word very loosly - what sounded reasonble through a closed door is a bit more difficult to comprehend from close to. The Accordian player has definitely never attended a Sam Pirt Workshop and the bohran's have obviously wilted in the heat and are definitely off-key but there is laughter and enthusiasm and no-one else seems to care. I walk to the bar and ask for a glass of water .... the hair on the back of my neck rises as I feel all eyes turn on me .......I slink into a seat in a dimly lit corner of the room and watch the proceedings.............................
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Ian Stephenson Date: 30 Jun 01 - 05:54 AM Ian the Blue has been stood at the bar, staring into space for the last hour. His head JOLTS and then looks around. "have YOU ever tried making blue curaco sunrise while sleep-walking??" he shouts angrily at Mistress PushmiPullu. "oh..is this mine?"..he picks up the now warm pale ale, produces a folded-up blue drinking straw from his back trouser pocket, unfolds it, and proceeds to begin canceling out the extreme dehydration by drinking quickly and finishing the pint. He raises his right hand and throws it down on the bar. Then having produced blue chalk from his back trouser pocket, adds another mark on the tally on his right hand. "another please, Mistress PushmiPullu". He sits and mumbles quitely under his breath. |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Geoff the Duck Date: 30 Jun 01 - 07:15 AM In the distance an etherial whistling floats on the ether, pauses outside the tavern entrance, then lazily enters through the barely open door. It is followed by a rattle of birch aainst cowhide, which looks furtively around for the whistle, tries the barbershop door, but cannot get in for the four part wall of sound, and finally settles for the tavern. When it finds the strains of the whistle have already arrived its timbre noticeably brightens, and it heads for the bar. Far behind the first two arrivals, a weary ching, ching of bells drags itself up to the tavern. The jingle slips under the door just before it is flung wide by a tall man festooned in ribbons. the bells are tied on leather thongs round his knees, a hide drum slung on a cord in the crook of his left arm and a three hole pipe in his left hand. His face is covered in what appears to be green paint, and you can hear the emulsion in his voice as he says, have I got the right place for the Party?? He staggers to the bar, The name's Handnancy, William Handnancy! It's been a long walk, but I wouldn't want to miss this night! Do you have any decent beer? Oh yes, I can see that you do. Could you find the time to pour me a pint of Civet Strangler, I could do with something light to start off with, and a bag of those things which look like raccoon balls, by the way, what are they made from? Raccoons balls, I thinkcame the reply! And I must buy a drink for the honoured guest, something special, I think! What can I see? His gaze ranges along the bar, pausing for a moment at the barrel of Winky Wobbler, moving past the Beaver Bitter, wincing at the sight of the Nutcrusher Crumple and moving swiftly along the line to the Sneck Lifter. Suddenly his eyes light up, and his green face seems to lighten a few shades.Ah, perfect! Get him a large pint of Old Scrotum's Todger, and make sure it is hand pulled. You can't beat a good head! William slopes off to a table in the corner of the room to observe the proceedings. The belly dancer appears to be doing the dance of the seven army blankets, but William is not an expert in these matters, and she might simply be complaining that the air conditioning has been turned too high. He sees the blue faced man, and wonders which mumming team he belongs to. Dust settles around William's pint of Civet Strangler, as the garlic laden atmosphere of the Tavern absorbs into his soul...........
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Peter T. Date: 30 Jun 01 - 08:25 AM Things get busy, and although it is the end of her shift -- and certaily many people have tried to get hold of the end of her shift -- Mistress PushmiPullu is still pullullating with partiness, only slightly disrupted by the reappearance (if, indeed, so insignificant a person could even have said to appeared in the first place) of the increasingly distraught figure in the beerbattered raincoat. He had been losing his traughts in attempting to push (or pull, which attracted Mistress PP's eponymous attention) a very large painting through the door. Eventually, after the painting bent and the frame of the door and the frame of the painting cracked simultaneously, it slid in. Since the main colours of the painting roughly coincided with the colours dribbled down his coatfront, it was rightly assumed by the disassembling patrons of the bar that the painter was in their midst. Mistress PushmiPullu, though of a kind heart, continued to wonder if discretion were not the better part of velour, and tentatively -- as the latest issue of BarWoman had suggested in its path-breaking article "How To Brush Off The Losers and Attract The Winners: Ten Experts Tell You How!!!" -- asked about his hobbies. Hobby. "What is the painting about?" He was in the process of propping it up over the bar, and had stood back to take a good look, which was a mistake, since he had been standing on the bar. As usual, her question threw him into a tizzy, actually in this case just missing a a spittoon. Restored to his feet, he cleared his throast, which was a singularly unpleasant experience, like all those Bob Dylan albums in the early 1980's, and then said: "It-It is for Catspaw, for his party." On bad days Mistress PP wondered why she had not gone into air traffic control, since she seemed to spend much of her life talking men in fog back down to the ground, but she persisted: "What does it represent?" He warmed to his subject. "It is a vast panoply representing all -- The ALL - some of it, anyway -- anyway, over here on the left is the Delaware, and in the boat are all his virtues -- and then, under that leg, you see that leg? is the Expulsion from the Garden of Eden, which is an aerial symbolization of Columbus, Ohio, with palm trees, of course." "And what is that?" "Oh. Well, that started out to be the Raft of the Medusa, but I don't know, it metamorphosed into a steamboat, representing his endless quest for beauty, and SHE. Plus great cars. The big stuff on the right -- you see that??" She saw that. "That is the Venus of Urbino, not that I got the legs right, but the spirit of Titian is there, except for the acrylics, he was not big on acrylics. But this is the best part --" And he waved to the far right of the massive painting. Mistress PP was busy trying to remember the number you dialed when you had an aesthetic emergency, so she simply nodded, and began backing away. "This is the Assumption of Catspaw into Glory!!!! You see the vast crowds of angels here, and the choir, and the way the beams of light strategically cover his private parts? You don't see the use of purple and orange like that much these days!" Suddenly she remembered the number, and ran for the telephone. |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Geoff the Duck Date: 30 Jun 01 - 09:25 AM Watching from the corner, Handnancy quietly took out an oversized handkerchief and began, as unobstrusively as possible, to scrape the green paint from his face. Much as he appreciated good painting, he had decided that this was an occasion to blend into the background. The paint on his visage would have been more likely to blend him into the foreground, perhaps even put him into the picture, and that was where the blood might fly!!!!! Once William was sure that all traces of artism had been extricated from his image, he returned to his pint, no longer a quiet pint, it appeared that not all the civets had been strangled before brewing, and one was definitely complaining about sharing William's glass. |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: JeZeBeL Date: 30 Jun 01 - 10:24 AM JeZeBeL sweeps back over to the bar to carelessly order another 6 pints of mlle pullu's finest beer, and spots Ian the Blue hanging off the edge.... "My dear, we can't have you looking like that, here let me buy you another drink (even if u aint legal in the american side of this bar)".... Ian the Blue looks up carelessly and grins a thank you, cos that's about all he's capable of at this time of night. She isn't quite sure, but maybe that's the sweet dulcit tones of a galacian tune being played on......oh, no it can't be....no don't let him in........ JeZeBeL runs to hide in the corner, just incase, as she remembers that she still needs to give this person money for accordion lessons....she hopes that he doesn't hear the people inside the bar over the accordion and carries on walking..... |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Ian Stephenson Date: 30 Jun 01 - 10:31 AM Ian the blue's head jolted. again. He awoke to realise that he had been staring again, at a naked man, and there was another blue chalk-mark on the tally on his right hand, and an empty pint glass and a folded blue straw on the bar in front of him. "How the bloomin nora did I get here??".. and as his bleary eyes cleared, he found to his amazement that all the naked mans' private parts were perfectly masked by rays of sunlight, and this man was standing perfectly still, and he was very small. once again ian the blue had not heard the most important part of the conversation. Having had his second epiphany of the day (the first happened while reading the scrawled handwriting on the wall of the gents toilets about the meaning of life.) he tried and immediately failed to get mistress's attention for another pale ale, and once again began staring, and stopped doing everything. ian the blue had fallen asleep. Again. |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: JeZeBeL Date: 30 Jun 01 - 10:37 AM Jezebel walked back up to the bar, having seen that Ian the Blue had fallen asleep.... oh, whata perfect oportunity.... She sniggers....brings her leg behind her............. and kicks the bar stool from under him. He falls to the ground with a thud, but somehow he still doesn't wake up. JeZeBeL is very annoyed by this. So she picks him back up puts him back on the stool, throws a bucket of cold water over him, which wakes him up...THEN kicks the stool from under him again. SHe orders him another drink and wonders off to her hiding place again...u know, just in case..... |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Ian Stephenson Date: 30 Jun 01 - 10:47 AM ian the blue's head had just jolted. "how the bloomin nora did I get here??!?" he mumbled. he had the distinct feeling that he'd been asleep again, but there were gaps in his memory...he'd remembered going to sleep, dry, and staring at a tiny miniture naked man. Now he was wet, and staring at the wooden planks that was the bar. the bottom of the bar. he stood up, sat down on the next stool along, and began doing nothing at all. ian the blue had fallen asleep. Again. |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Amos Date: 30 Jun 01 - 11:23 AM Two cheery voices floated through the swinging door on the summer breeze. "Ho! Mistress Jen!!" The sound of a plank whistling through the night air and landing hard on something soft could be made out, drifitng in from the general area of the gravel parking lot under the Coolibahs by the road. It was followed by a series of mighty grunts and the rusty rattle of gravel crunching in moonlight. The Kindly Ms Pushmipullu, attracted by the scent of danger combined with the vaguely comedic, dashed to the Tavern door and quickly stepped into the parking lot. She reappeared a moment later with two flushed and angry looking short and roly poly men, each being held a good foot off the floor by her no-nonsense grip on their shirt-collars, leaving two pairs of very small feet kicking and swinging in the settling dustcloud. "I'd say you BOTH needed to learn some manners!" she remarked firmly, and they both looked up at her from their suspended positions, their eyes wide with surprise and simulataneously began to crinkle up their faces in looks of absolute remorse and chagrin. Their sheepishness, reflecting from their wide blue eyes and their round little faces was intense and sincere-looking and their remorse was so palpable that the KeepMistress could not stay angry, and shook them lightly with a laugh. They each bowed briefly toward her fromt he waist, and the two of them turned and sidled off, settling at the far dark end of the bar where they clambered up on a pair of high stools, removed their propellor-beanies, and waited politely for the Keepstress to take their orders. When she did they ordered seltzer water. |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Peg Date: 30 Jun 01 - 12:29 PM (sidling in wearing a pair of sunglasses) Anyone mind if I sit in the corner with a pen and notebook? Do join me if you want, but sleep deprivation and this hot weather have sapped my conversational abilities... Oh, and a wheat beer with lemon for me... and maybe a garden burger? When do the songs begin? (humming "I Live Not Where I Love" under her breath) Peg
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: JenEllen Date: 30 Jun 01 - 12:34 PM (Oh, Hessy, you'll have to share that recipe! Sounds like it could become a tavern staple..) "Never a dull moment," she thought to herself as she set twin seltzers on the bar and retreated to the battered payphone at the back of the tavern. The number! As casually as possible under the circumstances, she retraced her steps and once again walked behind the bar. There. By the Nerf baseball bat 'Peacemaker', a tiny case with 'In Case Of Aesthetic Emergency- Break Glass' printed on it's lid. She returned to the phone and dialed the number....several different tones led her briefly to believe that the call was being routed to another planet, when a voice startled her out of her reverie.
"Neil Young CEN-tah......" the voice chirruped So she held, but just barely. The muzak drifting into her ears was none other that the rare recording of Neil Young and Paul McCartney doing "Ivory and Ivory" from the Wings Over the Cesspool album, followed by the advert for the upcoming tour, don't miss it...
She was ready to hang up when the voice chirped again:
She shivered as she looked at the monstrosity behind the bar. "It's a painting..." she started.
"So what do I do now?" asked Pushmi
"He isn't by chance drinking Luwak is he?"
She hung up the phone feeling not one bit confident about the entire experience. She casually tip-toed over to the table and sat across from the beer-battered brush hound. ~Mlle PP
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: JeZeBeL Date: 30 Jun 01 - 12:47 PM "Hmmm, garden burger....I have never made one of them before" people can hear mlle pullu saying from the bar.
Several comments start flying around like: "Is that a veggie burger?" So everyone looks at Peg sat in the corner to explain what a garden burger is. JeZeBeL, whilst busy playing lazy summer tunes on her trumpet, looks down at her glass, to realise it is yet again empty.....she puts the sparkly brass trumpet down and tells everyone to guard it with their lives....and saunters, well, maybe staggers, across to the bar again. When she gets there, she sees that Ian the Blue has yet again fallen asleep, so she pulls a pair of scissors out of her pocket and proceeds to chop off his hair, well he did say he needed a hair cut. Inside JeZeBeLs magickal bag, she finds some hair paint and wax and the likes of face paint. "We're going to have to do something about this half blue face of his" she points out the mlle pullu. Well, out comes the blue hair paint and she slaps a bit of that on....then proceeds to put wax in it and spikes it all up. People are looking around in sheer amazement at the masterpiece that is being created before their eyes. JeZeBeL is working fast, hoping that the young lad doesn't wake up before she has finished.... More green and blue hair paint comes out..... Then she shouts to the bloke with the long white beard and hair in the corner, who has a very strange accent from the north of england, if she can borrow his banjo a second. He frowns and nods and puts another fag in his mouth. JeZeBeL brings the banjo back towards Ian the blue and smashes it over his head. People stand back and look in amasement... "I don't believe it....it's, it's, it's the mudcat logo!!" And lo and behold, on top of Ian the Blues head is the fish jumping out of the banjo. JeZeBeL apologises to Bill, and says she'll buy him a new one. Bill says no worries as she passes hima pint of coca cola. Ian the Blue is still asleep. Everyone cheers and applauds at what JeZeBeL has created. "A beer for everyone" shouts JeZeBeL. And she sits back in her corner and picks up her whistle to play. |
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Subject: RE: MUDCAT TAVERN: WELCOME HOME PARTY From: Amos Date: 30 Jun 01 - 12:51 PM [Macaroni MOSAIC? Charles in a SPEEDO??? Seigried and ROY??? Jesus H. Christ, gal!!! How many planets did you eat for breakfast!!! ROTFLMASO!!!. Love, Dumendee Leda Gemini, |
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