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Ye Olde bAAR: Closed

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A crazy-eyed man with a disheveled white beard and hair sticking out every which way steps out of the shadows of RL to toss a dusty paperback novel on the beer stained countertop of the bAAR.

Savoy Wars by Faeelin

"You guys might want to take a look at this one if you missed it", he mutters before snatching a draft of Tire Bite and disappearing back into the shadows with the other lurkers.

Edit: Peter E.(no pelling sproblems there;) ),Secret Master, & Lt. Tyler, I missed your earlier posts until just a minute ago. I hadn't checked out the bAAR until now.:( Thanks for recommending my AARs...and the scotch.;):D I'm flattered...and... a little embarassed.:eek: Thanks again.:)
 
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Prufrock steps up to the bar.

"So I just got back from the EU1 AAR forum. Weird atmosphere... no drinking, no backstabbing. But it's QUIET... almost TOO quiet."

Prufrock observes the shouting crowds in the bAAR- the three mainstages, all occupied, the side rooms with other groups, the reviewer crowd hanging out by the popcorn machine...

"Well, maybe there is a certain charm to a sedate, mellow pace."

Prufrock turns back to his notebook.

"Hmm... Prufrock451. Pruf. Pruffie. P-451. Cliff. Cliff?"

*the sound of Guinness disappearing*
 
The bAAR mike was empty again. Craig rushed up on stage, cutting off MrT. Once that guy started talking, no one was going to get a chance:D. Craig stepped up, cleared his throat and said, "Just as a notice to all At the AARs is now open for business, and we've already had our first OT discussion. That's got to be a record or something.:D Anyway, check it out if you get the chance, and feel free to share your thoughts."

He stepped down. MrT bolted up to the stage, making sure no one else could steal his mike time. In the back Craig saw his fellow reviewers, shawng, Morlac, Secret Master, and Sharur. They were all getting piss drunk. Wasn't Sharur twelve or something? Oh well, anything goes at the bAAR.
 
Sitting at the bAAR with Shawng, Morlac, and Sharur, the Secret Master was taking a long pull from his Corona. He was feeling rather enlightened, which is what twenty Mexican beers in one sitting will do to you. His leisure suit was perfectly grotesque in the poor lighting of the bARR, which suited him to no end. While he would prefer his old hood, dark cape, and red contacts that gave an evil glint to his eyes, he had to admit that there was something truly disturbing to wearing such an outlandish outfit. And being truly disturbing was what Secret Master liked to do in his off-duty time. What he did while on-duty was none of your business, thank you.

He turned to his fellow drinkers and began to pontificate. Shawng, Morlac, and especially Sharur, had grown used to his long-winded diatribes regarding just about every subject. A partially completed college education, combined with alcohol and a lack of female attention, tended to produce said effect in him. They politely listened, even as they schemed how they were going to break in to the rambling to order more drinks. Sharur was even planning on how he was going to get the Secret Master to pay for his next drink.

"So anyway, there's this guy down in Sicily doing all this crazy stuff, ya know? Like he thinks he can muscle in one anyone's turf without paying the consequences for his actions. If ya ask me, his attempts to muscle in on Genoa are nothing but trouble. But considering who is backing Genoa these days, you don't wanna mess with them, eh?"

The others nodded in assent, as Morlac's hand went into the air to flag down Norgesvenn for more beer.

"But that's ok, because it doesn't matter to me none. Either Genoa will win, or Sicily will win. Either way, I still come out ahead and smelling like a rose. And since I am El Maestro Secreto, Mal Grande, I'm all good with that, homey."

Craig sat down at the table, looking at Secret Master with a slight smile on his face.

"Hey Secret, I got a question for you."

"Shoot, Craig."

"Do you normally mix accents and slang from entirely different countries and cultures when you drink, or is this just a special occasion?"

Secret Master glanced at his beer, which was empty.

"Well, that makes my 21st Mexican beer for the night. What do you think?"

"That it's just normal for you to be this strange when out at a bAAR of any sort when female attention is lacking, because you can get away with it."

Secret grinned as he pulled out his platinum corporate credit card. The credit card had a pyramid with a large eye on it.

"You will make a fine servant of the Secret Masters some day, Craig."

He put all the drinks on his tab. Considering Sharur was a minor, it was just criminal enough to be written off as a tax deduction for his organization.
 
LT ran up to the mike at the bAAR.

"Hi <HICK>! I just got back from Eochaid's drunken good time in France. A pagan France, dedicated to bacchanalia. How great!

<HICK>

"But oh yeah, my real reason to come up here is:

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY heagarty!

"For a present, we went in and got you some fake teeth!" :D

<HICK>

"And how them Gluttonic Knights doing?"

<HICK>

*CRASH*

"Damnit, somebody pick up LT off the stage," grumbled Norgesvenn.
 
Tony's story

So, Don Messina call me early in da mornin' you see. And dat not usual for da Boss. 'Tony', I said to meself, 'da Boss hafta say ya sumefin really special'. Dis whatta think whenna enter Da Boss room:
"- Ha Tony, come Son, sit there."
So, I sit there, cos' I'm not gonna argue wit da Boss.

"- I want to tell you about a dream I had last night. Do you know San Gimignano ?"
And sure, I know San Gimignano. Dis is near Sienna. And Siena was annexed 'n became a part of Don Messina's turf just after 1471. So, sure I know San Gimignano. We were dere during the war, we set up a camp, play craps, whacked some of der Boys... One of da Capos even take a picture:

san-gimignano.jpg


"- In my dream, we were in a big town. Bigger than Napoli, Firenza or even bigger than Vennezia or Roma ."
And dat is really big, 'cos all the cities da Boss in talkin' 'bout are da biggest cities in all of Italia.

"- And like in San Gimignano, there were towers all over the town, could you imagine Tony ?"
And yes, I can: A big city, bigger than all the cities I know, withat big towers all 'round. OK.

"- But in my dream, Tony. The towers were not in stone but in glass."
Ha, dat is more difficult to imagine ya know. Towers in glass, nottin stones. Dat's more difficult. But I was talkin' to da Boss, ya remember. So, who am I to argue wit da Boss dream. I try to imagine towers in glass. OK.

"- And you know the strangest part of my dream, Tony ? We were in that city. Sitting in a Ristorente. And the pasta were Al Dente, and as good as la Mama is cooking pasta. And that place was called Little Italia."
Now, dere I said to meself: 'Tony, da Boss, he ain't mad. 'tis just a dream of da Boss. So, if da Boss is happy wizziz dream, da Boss is happy. And if da Boss if happy, Tony son, ya're happy too'.

"- Do you understand my dream, Tony ?"
And dere I said:
"No, Don Messina. But if dat city exist and make you happy. And if da Pasta are cooked Al Dente. Molto Bene, we'll find dat city for you Don Messina."

And da Boss seems very happy wiz my answer, and he let me go prepare da Consiglari da Capos. But I tell you, I think I was lucky to answer what I answered.

Tony finished is glass and leaves the bAAR...
 
Originally posted by Lt. Tyler
"Damnit, somebody pick up LT off the stage," grumbled Norgesvenn.
Click to expand...


Kurtbrian, lurked in the corner waiting for someone to show him attention, so that he might tell them about his coming project.

He was certain that, this time they would see how magnificant he really was.

Failing to find anybody that found him interesting, he walked towards Norgesvenn, on the way he tripped over something.

A smile grew on his face as he realized that he had found someone who didn't run away...

---2 hours later---

Darkness....

Blablalblalnblaaablaaa....badboy...blabla......Tordenskjold...blablabla...lousy swedes......blablabla....

Lt. Tyler wondered where he was....

yadda...yadda...yadda.....Crusades....yadda.....Denmark.....yadda yadda...

Finally he remembered talking to Norgesvenn and then darkness

What had happened? had he died?? And if so was this hell and who was that anoying character yapping away??

He opened his eyes and to his relief he was still at the bAAR, but relief turned to horror as he noticed that he was sitting next to kurtbrian!!! In Public!!!!

His social life was in ruins. Nobody wanted to be asociated to that weird character...

Lt- Tyler staggered to his feet and mumbled a quick 'gotta go' and ran out the door to escape...

:D
 
Heagarty looked at the false teeth suspiciously. He appreciated the thought behind the gift, by Good God! Were these...used?
:eek:

In the spirit of the evening, Heagarty picked up Lt. Tyler's bar tab, since Shawn had already picked up Lt. Tyler and returned him to a booth.

Fake teeth were nice, but before the evening was over the prosthetic he'd need would be a new liver.

"One Jack, one Dewars, and one Amstel," he ordered, partly because he needed three drinks, partly in tribute to a favorite AAR which was mysteriously missing from the LibrAARy. Or perhaps not so mysteriously...:D

So was there a birthday wish, on this, the anniversary of his 16th birthday? No, but there was a birthday question.

What ever happened to that Baden Haiku?

Now THAT was creative.

Speaking of creativity, he had to come up with some new character to fill a temporary role in the Gluttonic Knights AAR. An explorer. Explorers didn't seem to fare too well in his AAR's, which is why the role was temporary.

He looked deeper into the bottle for inspiration.
 
Shawng1 looked over at Lord Durham, who was still having trouble finding his false teeth.

"Dread Sovereign, have you seen the new Papacy AAR?"

"Shmapacy AAR? Really?"

"Umm, yeah, I think. Given your past service in that area back in EU1 days, I thought you might find it enjoyable."

"Thure, one question..chou seen my teeth?"

Shawn took a napkin and reached behind the bAAR to take them from where Norgs had hidden them. One could never know he was capable of moving so deftly, no one but LD even noticed.

"Here you are."

"Oh, thansh." He said, putting them in. "Gotta go.."
 
"That Lt. Tyler...". Norgesvenn chuckled to himself, while nodding at kurtbrian, who was reading a biography of Tordenskiold. Not only had Lt. Tyler been as drunk as a sailor, but he'd made a complete fool of himself offering heagarty some false teeth.

As if the glutton of knights needed teeth. Most good food can be made into a stew, and eaten through a straw.

Some AARs were being reviewed. Flicking through the "Arts" section of The Daily TelegrAARph (only works for British English :D ), he noticed Craig Ashley having received a pretty good review. That was good.


His other job, the one outside the bAAR was taking his toll. No new strokes of genius or strokes of lack of genius had been added by him in any AAR for ages. Norgesvenn sighed, and poured himself a litre of single malt to relax. At least he'd finished his Venice stint.

shawng1 was hanging around the bar, and Norgesvenn suspected he was looking for a spoon or something. shawng1 was quick when moving, so Norg never noticed.

"I need a cigarette", he thought. Then he thanked God for not living in California when lighting it.
 
"Sorry Norgs, can't help you with the ciggie." Shawn said. The good thinng about living with a halo around one's head...no one ever thought you'd do anything wrong. Not that retrieving LD's teeth for him really was in any case.

"BTW, Norgs, is CM4 supposed to be out before Christmas where you're at? Just checking."
 
Rictus pushed open the door and staggered into the bAAR, whereupon an almighty silence settled onto its patrons. He looked around, gazing at each of the drinkers in turn, before advancing to the bar itself. Norgesvenn eyed him warily. Rictus pulled out his wallet, complete with shiny new notes and called airily and excitedly to the rest of the pub:

"God damn, I passed my exams, let's party! Drinks are on me! For the first round."

And everyone began a rousing chorus of 'we're off to university' for many a few seconds. And Rictus was happy and drunk.

Huzzah.
 
LD raised his scotch and toasted the young Jedi Knight for passing from Jedi High to Jedi U.

After knocking back the amber liquid, he reached into a rucksack and pulled out one of many sets of false teeth. They were a great gag, seeing as he still had all his. Now, where could he hide these? Hmmm, that guy J. Passeportout looked like a candidate. When he wasn't looking, he'd toss them into the double bass, along with one of MrT's toupees and a jar of Warspite's liposuctioned fat.

Now, what else could he do? Ahh, there was shawng... now where was that false nose and glasses... damn, Secret Master was wearing them again...
 
MrT comes into the bAAR. IT’s been a while since he was last in, and he’s looking surprisingly “down” and tired…more so than you’ve seen in quite a while. Dragging himself over to the window table, he motions to Norgesvenn with a nod.

The bAARtender lifts a pint glass but then stops, seeing T’s head shaking emphatically. Setting the glass back down, the Norwegian lifts a pitcher instead – casting an inquisitive gaze over in T’s direction and surprised to see the man’s head again decline the vessel. Sighing to himself, he suddenly knows what’s required.

“You know it takes all the fun out of it,” he says as he inserts the needle and sets up the constant drip from the line he has run across the floor of the bAAR from the Smithwicks keg to MrT’s arm.

“Mandatory, my friend. It’s been a brutal week. Work’s been a bitch and I’ve barely done any reading. Can’t even find the time to write more than a couple lines either, so my novel’s been sadly neglected. Anyway, I thought I’d drop by for a quick keg and to give everyone my apologies for the temporary neglect. I guess I’ll have a pretty full weekend of reading ahead of me if I’m going to get myself back to where I’d like to be.”

Norgesvenn nodded, and headed back to the bar where MrT’s toupee had been carefully stored against his return. Flinging it Frisbee-like across the room, he called out in a loud voice…

“Look, a flying carpet!”

OOC: Sorry all. I’ll really try to catch up on all your AARs but I’ve barely had a moment this week to do more than pole my head in for a moment. Hopefully I’ll be able to rectify that over the weekend.

C.
 
Eochaid opened the door of the bAAR with one powerful kick. Immediately everybody stoped speaking and even the vets turned around to see what was going on. Wearing a big black leather trenchcoat and a white t-shirt reading "Go ahead punk, make my day!", Eochaid slowly walked in the saloon, looking into every customers' eyes in a very intense and creepy way. As if he was trying to cow people into submission.

Surprised by Eochaid's unusual roughness, Norgesvenn carefuly unhung the mirror behind the counter.

Finaly Eochaid jumped on a table in the middle of the room and began to speak with a booming voice:

"- Okay punks! Some of you here put the word on the street that Lord Durham needed fake teeth and MrT wore a toupee! This I will not allow!" Very slowly Eochaid takes a huge .44 Magnum out of his pocket and points it up so everybody in the room can see it.

"- This baby is locked and loaded guys! So if you want to say something silly, the question is: Do you feel lucky? Do you punks?"

For the first time in a long time the bAAR is completely silent. The only sound one can hear is the buzzing of a big fat fly just wandering in the room. Finally the fly stops and lands on shawng1's cheek. Satisfied by the lack of reaction, Eochaid continues his speech.

"- All of you know that Lord Durham and MrT are Canucks! So I'd like to point out to you some of the particular features of the Cannucks in order to make this gossiping stop! Here we go:

- Canucks have very long, sharp and solid front teeth that never stop growing. They use them to cut down the trees they need to build their huts in the forest (usualy not very far from a river, even if they only drink alcohol. Nobody knows why they do that)

- Cannucks are very hairy. Every male Canuck (and sometimes the females as well) is literally covered with a thick brown fur to keep him warm during the nine-month long canadian winter.

- Cannucks have a very powerful vocal organ. However they only use it to yell either "TIMBER!" when they cut a tree, or "BARTENDER, THE SAME!" when they are thirsty. When adressed they only mumble, but never say something actualy audible.

- Cannucks are excellent EU2 forum administrators and librAARians. Nobody knows why exactly, but we're all very thankful."

Eochaid jumps off the table and lands on the ground with a big THUMP.

"-Thank you for listening ladies and gentlemen and have a good time in the bAAR."

Eochaid walks to the counter and orders a beer. Norgesvenn gives him a draught beer before going back to cleaning the glasses.

"- Did I get to frighten you Norg?

- You wish kiddo... And next time you wanna stand on one of my tables, clean your shoes.

- Okay... sorry Norg.

- Where did you get your gun anyway?

- Well it's just a flag gun see..." Eochaid pulls on the trigger and a tiny red flag with "BANG" written on it cames out of the pipe of the gun

- By the way kid, you owe 25$ for the beers you had last week.

- Well Norg, I'm glad you mention it because unfortunately I don't have the money with me and..."

Norg doesn't look happy about Eochaid not having the money and starts walking around the counter to get hand on him. Eochaid runs out of the bAAR before Norg can catch him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PS: I hope that wasn't too scarry! And I also hope that canadian people around here have a good sense of humor. Otherwise it might not be a good idea for me to attend the 2003 AAR CON... :D :D :D
 
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