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Hardly anybody noticed Eochaid, but before he left, a man in dark clothes, call him from aside:
"- Hey, buddy ! You should have linked your ad ! And you should add it to your signature. If you respond as a reader in a thread, writers curious about yours will check it from there. PM me if you need."
In then turns back to his drink, and mumble to himself:
"- Well that my piece of advice, but who cares..."
Ignoring the noises around, he desperatly tries to concentrate on various scribbled pieces of paper on and surrounding the low table in front of his stove. Paragraphs have been written and crossed unmercifully all over.
 
"So, she said to the bloke, 'I'll do it' and this fag starts having a go at her. Well, me and Terry weren't having that and we went to try and geddim..." Rictus' speech slurred for a while, as he gesticulated to nobody, "an' it took abooout eight people to hol' us offim. Daaaaamn straight." (<- True story)

Rictus finally noticed the emptiness of the pub. Wearily, he pulled himself to his feet and eyed Norgesvenn, who was innocently cleaning a glass.

"Where is evvveweryone?"

"Well, Cat Lord was in here earlier. Giving hints about linking and sigs. Eochiad also made an appearance with his AAR. Craig Ashley also seems to be getting a fair bit of attention. As is Dragonheart. So, as usual, it's just you in here, you drunkard."

"Whassat?"

"Nothing."
 
"So LT, are you happy with yourself? You've made us all a bunch of bar flies."

"What's the matter Norgie, are we not tipping you enough? Or was it that tequila that knocked you on yer ass this weekend?"

"Well, that tequila sure did a number on me, but that's not such a big deal. Worse is the news from Backpack. Did ya hear?"

"No, nothing's wrong I hope."

"Well, not really. But it seems that real life pressures are forcing him to take a bit of a hiatus, from the Venice collaborative, and from starting any new solo AARs."

"Man, that stinks!"

Right at that moment, Backpack entered the bAAR.

"Backpack!" the whole crowd said in unison, as he strolled over to the empty stool beside me.

"Norgie," I said. "I want to buy this gent a drink! Get him his scotch! And put that song on the jukie!"

The sound of a fiddle came from the jukie's speaker, and The Devil went down to Georgia played for the bAAR crowd.

Everyone sang together, stopping their conversations and raising their drinks

"...I done told you once you son of a bitch, I'm the best there's ever been!"



Hope you'll visit the forum at least once in awhile Backpack!

LT
 
*staggers in*

*points at four feet of unoccupied bar space*

Harp's, Harp's, Prairie Fire, Irish Car Bomb, Prairie Fire, Jager Shake, Dead Nazi, Honeybrau, straight Bailey's, Guinness.

*cracks knuckles and opens notebook entitled IMMORTAL NARRATORS*

Demonic possession... aliens... encyclopedias... song lyrics... demons... third person... vampires... professors lecturing... mystical beings... leprechauns... crap.

*flips past section marked EX-GIRLFRIENDS and copies the list into the IMMORTAL NARRATORS section*

*gnaws pen fretfully*

Is it possible? Is it possible? Hm.

Wait! I've got it! I've got it! HAHAHAHAHAAAAA!

*goes down the line drinking* ahhh.

*falls over*

Can you light this cigarette for me? My motor skills just died.
 
Craig walked into the bAAR. He saw LD passed out on the floor. MrT hadn't noticed and was still talking about calvary tactics in the mid 15th century. He did that a lot, even his AAR The Rivers Run Red.

A couple other bAARflies were competeing for Trixie's attention. Prufrock and Peter Ebbesen nearly came to fistacuffs, not over Trixie but some something called a K'morg. He heard the word "gark" too, but had no idea what that all meant.

The mike was empty. He stepped up and cleared his throat.

"Attention. Attention? Yo, put a sock in it people!! There's a new idea in town fellas. AAR reviews. Just like Roger Ebert, but without the gratuitous pictures of some fat guy. Problem is I'm in no way able enough for the task," the room shouted out its agreement, "so I need a few reviewers. Shawng has already voluntered, but I need more. If any of you are interested . . . and qualified (though looking around the room he wondered about that last part;) ) let me know on the Feedback thread. And for the rest of you, if you could take a second when you're sober (who knows when that would be) to answer a couple of questions I have regarding this little endevour, that would be great."

He stepped off the stage. No one threw anything or tried to maim him, so he counted it a success.

"Hey, bAARtender, give me a shot of Goldschlager. Make it two."
 
shawn sat in the corner and sipped a Steinlager. He say Craig come in, "Hey, if you want a completed AAR that's a short read, Dragonheart just finished his. Pretty good gameplay as Austria too. Need to check it out. I don't normally like log-style AARs, but that one's not bad."

"Thanks for the tip."

"Anytime."

He heard a voice up above in the rafters whisper back, "Anytime...Anytime....Anytime."
 
Cat Lord looks at Craig getting off the stage. He couldn't really believe what he just heard or read from him recently.

Thread for reviewing ? Reviewing like reviewing for scientific papers or new theatre plays and new movies.

He turns to the other vets around.

"- These young lads. Aren't they getting too serious ? It's a game after all. I mean, we do that for pleasure not social recognition, don't they ?
- Arf ! Let them do. Maybe some of them want to become critics in real life after all. Don't you want to be a writer yourself ?
- No. I mean, maybe, but I do not take that THAT seriously. Well, none of my business after all, you're right. They gonna do what they gonna do.
- Yeah ! Remember there is an Editor on your back and we want to read the following of your own work.
- Damn, you're right. Gosh ! My thread has been buried to the bottom again. Time to update."

He gathers his papers around and rushes out the bAAR...
 
"Damnation!". He spilled the beer yet again. Finally, Norgesvenn had gotton someone to cover for him in the bAAR and he could have "a few" beers again. So far those "few" beers had resulted in little more than a stained t-shirt (one of those MrT-shirts, actually) and an overdraft due to extensive use of VISA.

"Scho... howsch itgo-*hick*ing?"

"Yeah, yeah... we've all heard that "Cardinal Fang II" thing. Do something new, okay?"

Norgesvenn felt awfully sober all of a sudden.

"What? I'm schlosched, drunk, hammered... I went to the set where Lord Durham and associates are film-*hick*ing. They had drinks..."
"What kind of drinks?"
"Sort of Portuguese ones. Aragornese too".
"Argaronese?"
"I think so. I'm not all that certain..."
"How 'bout 'Aragonese'?"
"Yeah, that's the stuff!"

----

The barmaid looked disapprovingly at the short, fat man she was covering for. He seemed to prefer the name "Norgesvenn" over "Cuddly-Wuddly".

"To think I left Rex Luther for this one...", she thought while absentmindedly serving Cat Lord a drink.
"Oi! I was first!", Rictus exclaimed.
"Silence, or I'll flash you", said the Midnight Rose.
Rictus thought this over. Those baps of hers would almost certainly make him pass out again. And Ebbesen wasn't too keen on people passing out all the time.
"Right... take your time!"

----

"How did you get the Midnight Rose to cover for you?", the bouncer said.
"I sort of scripted it..."
"You? Script?"
"Well, yes... I used Havard's bible..."
"Oh... I see..."
"Worked out nicely, really. Although I see the bAAR lost a few stab points?"
"Yep... I've been fighting aliens, rebels... well, you name it..."
"You survived, though!"
"Fortunately! Then again, it was expected".
"Yes... I never thought otherwise. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to release the vassal... I might even need the aid of the Midnight Rose..."
 
Shawng1 sat in his corner with Prufrock. Tonight he enjoyed a tall Hefeweizen.

"Good to see you found a way to stop that nasty sack of bones from taking over the world like he always wants to do."

"Yep, and I only needed to cheat and edit the files to do it." (hiccup):p

"Well, all's fair in love and war, and EU definitely falls in the second category, cheers." (clink)
 
A lone man was sitting the corner, nursing his Shiner Bock while he sat, silently contemplating his leisure suit. He knew it was completely out of style, but he didn't care. In spite of the flashy colors and ridiculous clothes, there was an air of pretension and haughtiness surrounding him.

When the beer was suddenly empty, he stood up and went to the bar and found himself next to MrT. The man in the leisure suit could not see his face, but the odor of Smithwicks was unmistakable.

"How ya doin' MrT?"

T turned around with a skeptical expression on his face. Normally he was a friendly fellow, but the man in the leisure suit had interrupted his communion with Smithwicks without being the bringer of small denomination bills for use with certain female entertainers. That was almost sinful in the eyes of MrT.

"And who might you be, stranger?"

"Why, don't you remember me? I'm Secret Master."

MrT scanned him with his eyes before replying.

"Nah, you can't be. Where's your dark and ominous clothes? The hood over your face so we can't see you? The constant flitting about in shadows?"

The man in the leisure suit pointed to his name tag. It said, "Hi! My name is...... Secret Master."

"Is that really you? I hardly recognized you. What's with the new clothes done in really bad taste?"

"Well, it's a long story. Suffice to say, the Big Man Downstairs is having us do some updating of our image. I am supposed to be a kindler, gentler Secret Master now. It's a devil of a time to get used to. I still have my old clothes in a backpack somewhere, in case I ever need them."

MrT took a long pull from his Smithwicks.

"Was all that wordplay really neccessary?"

Secret looked very guilty as he replied.

"No, not really."

Secret took his new Shiner with him back to his corner of the bAAR and contemplated the possible consequences of Sharur becoming a poweful member of the forum. It would be a shame for him to be turned to the dark side of writing his own solo project....
 
The usual barflies were there. Norgesvenn had to work this time. The script of having the Midnight Rose tending the bAAR had cause several CTDs lately, and having released quite a few vassals, Norgesvenn wasn't all that unhappy being back behind the bAAR. After all, he should've been behind bars ages ago. Not in front of them.

"Say, who's the bloke in the tracksuit?", he asked Rictus.
"Who?"
"The one in the corner..."
"Oh... well, I think he's some sort of Secret Master..."
"Really? The one behind the excellent 'The Lives of Famous Castillan Nobles' and the Union of Kalmar AARs?", Norgesvenn asked.
"That's what they say. But keep it a secret, okay?"
"It'll be kept more secret than Elton John supporting Watford and being gay, I promise!!"
"Good. Always knew you had the integrity of an average boy band, Norg!", Rictus smiled.

"So, have you read Edgar Francis' play?"
"What play?"
"The one about Venice!"
"That's Shakespeare, you moron"
"No, seriously, it's written by Edgar Francis!"
"Ah... thought you said J. Edgar Hoover... nah, haven't read it. What's it about?"
"Hell if I know. I've never understood art. Anything more complicated than 'Die Hard', and I'm at loss. But I like that play. I was thinking that we could stage it here at the bAAR", said Norgesvenn.
"You a poofter?"
 
The door flung up and a large man dressed in chain-mail under a red surcoat entered the room. Embroidered on his shoulder was a white cross. He went over to the bAAR...

- Say, bartender, would you pull me a cold one? Better make it a large one - all this sand in my throat makes me thirsty...

The bartender nodded at the man and started to fill a pint of beer.

- Are you new around here? I can't say I remember we've met?
- Oh, I pop in now and then - a bit unregularly maybe, but still. Last time I was here you must have had a day off. I was served by this lovely girl. Havard is the name, btw. I have just come back from a study trip to the east.

The bartender served the beer and cleared his throat:
- I see, and the *ehem* outfit?
- Oh, this! Just to make it easier to blend in in the field :)

Havard finished the beer in three large gulps
- Ah! That was just what I needed. Oh, well. I'll leave you for now, I need to go through my notes before I can continue on my work.

The man went over to the door, and disappeared in the night.
 
"Hey! Bartender!"

"Oh, sorry... well, I'm off duty this weekend. Have to see the old family, you know..."

"You wot? Where'll we get our drinks, then?"

"Ahem... the Midnight Rose'll cover for me. She's got better titties and a nicer tushie than me".

 
Norgesvenn quickly made his escape from the bAAR, knocking over, pushing aside and generally breaking everything in his path. Trixie frowned and shook her head.

"Naw, Norgesvenn got a much nicer tushie"

"Easy girl," Lord Durham warned, without removing his gaze from the gyrating strippers in front of him, "he has a girlfriend."

Trixie pouted.

Meanwhile, the rest of the bAAR eagerly awaited of Midnight Rose.
 
A man suddenly appears on a stool in front of the bar, though no one saw him come into the room. It was as though he had always been there.

Those in the bAAR who were not too intoxicated whispered amongst themselves, noting his strange clothes and odd mannerism.

At the point when their conversations were dying out, he proclaimed in a loud voice:

I've just come from Dai Viet. Such a shame the regime didn't last as long as it should have. It was quite an entertaining time. But then again, the Palatinate is also quite interesting this time of year.

Those assembled agreed and went back to their drinks.

"Strawberry Dacquerie please."

The bartender looked at the stranger and defensively he continued. "I'm a Girl Drink Drunk... so sue me."

M

 
In a quiet corner of the BAAR, sat a middle aged man silently drinking a nice bottle of Smithwicks. Stroph watched the comings and goings with amusement. He mused: "People come and go, but the BAAR lives on, forever."

He spotted a barmaid and called her over to order another.
 
"Fresh from the GD Battles, are you Shawng1?", I asked in my most menacing voice causing the paint to crack and the rats to momentarily stop licking the sugar from Prufrocks boots.

But he was a tough customer (but then I knew that from earlier experiences) "Sure", he replied, "My conscience is clean".

Tell me about it. If I could nick his halo we'd be capable of saving upwards of 60% on the electricity bill.

But let's face it. It just doesn't pay to mess with the Dutch. You'll end up in a coffee shop discussing the troubles with your neighbours - again - over a piece of cake. And coffee, of course. Goes without saying. They do make some interesting flavours of cake, though.

I let him through and turned down the wattage. If I couldn't nick his halo, at the very least I use it to my advantage for the moment.
 
An angry mob burst into the bAAR. They were dishelved and had the look of 17th century eastern european peasants, complete with torches and pitchforks. This was quite off considering the current date.

"Now then," said one voice from the mob, with an equally out of place screechy English accent, vaguely familiar, "We're on a scavenger hunt, we is! We're looking for the funniest posts you blokes 'ave seen in an AAR! And we're posting 'em at down at the old Sgt. Bloomfield's Place ! So get of yer cans and 'elp us find some, or we'll be back the bloody temperance league!"

With assorted huzzahs and an odd reference to Spam, the mob left as quickly as they came.

In the corner, heagarty looked up, muttered, "Damn", then continued to drink his scotch.
 
Shawng1 clinks glasses with heagarty and reminisces. "Ahh, the days before the long-forgotten wlak's heritage was rediscovered by Sgt Bloomsfield, the owner of the Floppy Hat (TM) . Why, I can't say I remember what life was like before we knew what the wlak was. Certainly we have all been enriched by its presence, especially on our plates.":p
 
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