1000 Post Club

[Interference]

Is that cos you're still stuck in your room looking out the window, HJ?

[Hilarious Joke]

Ha! I've actually moved out of my parents' place to live with onebigpotato and another friend. So it's going to be a bit harder to do that (but I still intend to).

[springs]

Looks at date; new month.

Revealing Mr. sexy pilot May, the grandaddy of them all (he is, sadly, now, but boy wasn't he lovely 25 years ago....) Mr. Han Solo.

(I nearly met him on my canal boat trip down the Llangollen, but he had to go early there was so much publicity. Bah!)

[Ursa major]

* Wanders in. He's not incognito as such, but he's decided to wear neither his new robes of office nor all the high-class bling that goes with them. *


A glass of Vimto, please. And hold the ice.

[springs]

*orders glass of fizzy wine* (well it is friday)

Say, Ursa, is that the rarely seen, hard to believe 10000 post-robe behind your back. Swanky....

[Mouse]

He's naked?

10k! Wowsers.

[Ursa major]

No, not naked, Mouse**. Except in comparison. I'm just wearing the standard Italian suit, silk tie and shirt, hand-made shoes.... I don't want to look over-dressed or ostentatious.









** - Who else would make such a comment?

[Gary Compton]

Walks in half cut, well it is Friday and been down the club since two.

Looks round. "Who's the two birds siting at the table." I asked

'It's Mouse and Springs,' the barman said.

Things are looking up. I adjusted my tie. My mate saw me and came over, "Nice Italian suit" I said. "And a matching silk tie and shirt - bang tidy fluffy boy."

"Cheers,' he said in a bearly believable voice.

"We're in here," I told him as I studied the eye candy.

My mate smiled, I went to lean on the bar, but the barman had lifted the bartop to go to the loo.

I fell over and me hair went into a mess - what a plonker I felt.

My mate stood there like a dogs dinner, looking round as if nothing had happened, The lemon curds laughed as they got stuck in to their cocktails.

Time for a sharp exit!

[Ursa major]

*Ursa looks at the deserted bar. *

Beats me what's happening to the music. Suddenly it went flat, and now it's sharp. Very unnatural.

[Clansman]

*Clansman opens bar, sets it back into place, grabs bottle of Laphroaig, and pours a good double measure. Okay, triple measure. Sips it slowly.*

Aaaaaaaaah. That's the stuff.

[anivid]

Entering and asking the whiskey drinker :
« What’s happening here ?
- did the oily Italian just stick a knife into he back of that Pinnocchio with the nose in the floor ?? »

[Grimward]

*floats out of the sconce network, a very pedestrian (taking some liberties here!) entrance nowadays, apparently*

I certainly hope not. He's needed for Shrek 4000...

*Greets the returning relieved *cough cough* barkeep with a request for a Captain's and Coke, restraining the urge to let fly with an "Arrrrrrrr"*

[anivid]

Grumpf-grumpf ??
« Oh, it’s the old locals sitting in here – keeping their own company – cause they’ve been communicating too much J
He-he – just came in for a glass of water.
Wouldn’t dream of disturbing your circles.
After all, Aladin belongs in Nature J

[Clansman]

Hmmm. Must have Grimward on the door again to keep out the sub-1000 riff-raff.

This IS an exclusive club, after all.

(said in my best impersonation of Thurston Howell III)

Grimward: Captain's and Coke *slides tumbler down the length of the bar to the fiery apparition's outstretched appendage*

[Grimward]

Ahhhh, thank'ee kindly, Mr. Clansman sir.

*Properly fortified and invited, attempts to resume his post*

"Hmmmmph."

Aw, come now door, no smiles for your old buddy?

*retching noises ensue*

Can't blame a fireball for trying.