Ambrosia Software Web Board: The Officers Club Bar #5 - Ambrosia Software Web Board

Gee, this reminds me of the good ol days when there was the first Officers Club Bar. Hmm, as I recall we almost hit a thousand posts or so before admin decided to start choppin em up.

"Anyway" he begins as he slides into a bar seat "how long has it been since anything interesting has happened here?"
He twirls his thumbs in mused silence, sighs, and continues. "... Or maybe its lack of anything interesting that's most interesting. It would appear this board has... been shot."

Somebody in the back slurs out "U ain't seen no *hiccugh*.... smokin' gun."

"How about it Cicion?"

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[url="http://"mailto:Jonathan@Woodburn.cc"]mailto:Jonathan@Woodburn.cc[/url]Jonathan@Woodburn.cc
Working on the "Undisclosed Project"

Yes, me ol' place reached 1008 posts before andrew closed it because its size was distorting space-time. We're also coming up on the need for a new bar. Just a reminder to let me start it.

Anyway, who else thinks a new RPG might be good? And where have all my patrons gone? Darkk and co. haven't posted here in a while.

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-Traek Cicion, barkeep extraordinaire
"General Veers, prepare your men!"

"Oh, he is around." Zeta says with a slight distant look in his voice. "They're all around... someplace. It's just that it's a little cacophonnes subject."

Zeta looks around the bar. Everything is in remarkably good order. Aside from a few hundred chared phazer blasts in the east wall, everything has been thoroughly spit-shined.

"Can I get a bottled water?" He smiles.

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[url="http://"mailto:Jonathan@Woodburn.cc"]mailto:Jonathan@Woodburn.cc[/url]Jonathan@Woodburn.cc
Working on the "Undisclosed Project"

Another one of these BlueyGreens®©™ please...,
... Say, are you sure this is the non alcoholic caffeine enhanced variant? Tastes strange, a taste I've not tasted since...

Anic sniffs for tendrils of the FORCE

Hmm, do you have any dry roasted peanuts?

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Oh, so it is another bug hunt then...

Sure! We've got some other varieties of dry roasted plant too. Take your pick. *Pours the BlueyGreen and swirls it around, looking into it.* Yeah, I'm pretty sure this is the right kind. Maybe it's the cosmic dust that's passing through the system.

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-Traek Cicion, barkeep extraordinaire
"General Veers, prepare your men!"

Zeta begins to wonder whether or not he's going to get a bottled water. Then begins to wonder, why would he want one? Is it safe?

Speaking of safe, "...is there a reason why there's a cocked gun underneath this counter?" Zeta ask.

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[url="http://"mailto:Jonathan@Woodburn.cc"]mailto:Jonathan@Woodburn.cc[/url]Jonathan@Woodburn.cc
Working on the "Undisclosed Project"

LCA looks at the BlueyGreen®©™ as it is set down on the bar counter.
"Hmm, yes I guess you're right there. Could be the cosmic rays and all...
... or maybe its just time to move to the double strength variety"

Anic regards the vast selection of Dry Roasted snacks on the HoverDisk™ Bar Display...
"Um, are the Dry Roasted Snozzberries®©™ salted?"


While Cicion gets out the dictionary to translate the ingredients panel on the pack of Dry Roasted Snozzberries®©™ ("The snack with the uuuuuhhh" - very popular on the Salrillian worlds due to its artery clogging properties :cool
LCA greets the person in the next seat,
"So Zeta, what do you reckon this Undisclosed Project that's hitting all the headlines is then..."

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Oh, so it is another bug hunt then...

Zeta's left eyebrow slides up his forhead as a sarcastic grin spreads across his face. "Well, let me think...."

Cicion is busy mumbling off ingredients when suddenly he sneezes.
"Bless you." Anic says.
"Huh? Oh. No, that was the name of one of the ingredients." He continues, this time squinting at the fine print.

"Beetles."
"Beetles?" Anic asks quizzikly.
"Yeah. Beetles. Itty bitty ones. Like the one over there." Zeta responds pointing near a slumped patron currently spazzing out over counter.

Anic looks around just in time to see the man sucked into a pinpoint on the counter. A loud crunch splits the silence as the last toe dissapears.

"Ew! Yuck." Anic exhales. "I can see why it's so undisclosed."
"I never said that's what the project was." Zeta states as he takes a sip from the, now gone, patron's glass.

Cicion quietly swipes the patron's wallet.

"But, I suppose I should mention something."

Anic leans in, and Zeta continues in a quiet whisper "There's talk within certain unspoken circles of exposing the project. Now, rumor has it that it might have something to do with the ancient Egyptian tombs, Sargatanus, and a stalwart female pilot, but that's only rumor. I suspect this is the work of the fabled Vixan"

Overhearing the conversation (as most bartenders do), Cicion stops mumbling glances in the group's direction.

Cammander Anic leans back into his stool, arms wrapped across his chest, as he considers the chip of info.

"Why, you looking for her?" Zeta asks with a smile.

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[url="http://"mailto:Jonathan@Woodburn.cc"]mailto:Jonathan@Woodburn.cc[/url]Jonathan@Woodburn.cc
Working on the "Undisclosed Project"

*Teleports in and, remebering to give all of his weapons to cicion <lol, remember when i tried to shoot you and you went and locked up my circuits>, gets a pangalactic gargleblaster (hehe) on the house

been a while, hasn't it?

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They're Everywhere!
-B.O.B.

Hey, TG! It has been a while. Good to see you again. Bar's been pretty slow lately but it seems to be picking up steam bit by bit. Love your sig.

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-Traek Cicion, barkeep extraordinaire
"General Veers, prepare your men!"

Anic wakes up.
Ugh, headache, must be a hang over, or all those time eddies that hang out here.

Hm, Barkeep, a glass of water to celebrate my two hundreth post please.

..., and some chalk, if you have it...

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Oh, so it is another bug hunt then...

*Pours a glass of fresh, clear water taken from the glaciers on the planet below. * Here y'are, Anic. How would you like that chalk?

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-Traek Cicion, barkeep extraordinaire
"PS: If nothing's working around here, it's because I'm laughing so hard."
-Durandal

Round of Dr Pepper, Cicion. Hard to believe how hard it is to come by in Atlanta.
Stupid Coca Cola mega-conglomerate...

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"In literature as in love we are astounded by what is chosen by others." Andre Maurois

Darkk, old boy! Coming right up. *Opens the special dr. pepper-for-darkk fridge and pulls out a chilled glass picher of the nectar and a chilled glass. The amberlike fluid flows into the frosty glass with a sparkle and Cicion passes it over to Darkk.

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-Traek Cicion, barkeep extraordinaire
"PS: If nothing's working around here, it's because I'm laughing so hard."
-Durandal

"Hi all!" im back from my nightmare of no internet conection *shudders*

its good to be back (it was not that long was it?)

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[This message has been edited by 9024 (edited 10-04-2002).]

humm, my sig did not work??

Wait, now it is.

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"It's not an angry mob,' he anounced.
'Ook'
'It's an orang-utan carrying a stunned dwarf followed by a troll. But hes quite angry, if thats any help.' - Men At Arms Terry Pratchett

[This message has been edited by 9024 (edited 10-04-2002).]

Chalk?
!
What chalk...,

Oh er yeah the chalk,
grainy please, type six grating I think.
And make it green chalk of course.

The clear water settles inside the glass as it is placed on the counter...
... a moment later a tiny hurricane rises on the left side of the glass,
spindles its way across the surface of the water, turns left halfway there
and then after a pause, lurches back in the direction it came from to crush harmlessly against the side of the glass.

Pretty good water you have there...

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Oh, so it is another bug hunt then...

Yeah, it's top quality stuff. *Hands Anic his chalk in a small dish.* Well, we're almost at 200 posts. As soon as we hit that barrier I'll post the next bar.

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-Traek Cicion, barkeep extraordinaire
"PS: If nothing's working around here, it's because I'm laughing so hard."
-Durandal

"Ah, DP. It feels so good. Uhhh..."
Darkk falls off his chair, with an odd smile on his face.
He wakes up a few minutes later.
"Wow. It tastes a lot better after all that blasted coke."
"Why'd you drink coke?"
"You think you can get much else on a campus so close to Coke world HQ we navigate by it?"

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"In literature as in love we are astounded by what is chosen by others." Andre Maurois

"Redecorating again eh?
This bar must be doing well; and to think, the price of the drinks has never gone up. Reposting will give you a chance to clear away that pile of skeletons in the closet I suppose..."

A polar ice cap was forming nicely in the centre of the glass of water, with the water at the edges evaporating up the sides in keeping with certain laws of thermodynamics. The vapour then began to fall as snow on the ice cap creating a mountain range.

LCA sprinkled a bit of chalk on the water around the ice cap. The chalk sank neatly to the bottom of the glass, giving the liqid a blue chill.
Ahh, Salrillian ChalkedIceWater®©™
Nothing like it in the multiverse!
Drinks the water.

"Will you also be getting rid of the old Hagrabiscuit Vending Machine when you repost the bar,
you know the one that keeps reappearing after it gets thrown out...?"


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Oh, so it is another bug hunt then...

Well, I'll see about that, Anic. Enjoy your drink. It sure seems to be enjoying itself.

*A patron walks in. A drink picks him up and drinks him.* Looks like the reality stabilizers are on the fritz again. Better go down and check. *Cicion opens a hatch in the floor and climbs down a ladder, promptly appearing on the ceiling.* Dang it! *Jumps upward and promptly appears in the engineroom belowdecks.* There we go. I'm going to tinker a bit down here, so if any odd stuff starts to happen don't worry.

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-Traek Cicion, barkeep extraordinaire
"PS: If nothing's working around here, it's because I'm laughing so hard."
-Durandal

LCA engages Temporal Surreality Defense Shield,
and propptly vanishes!

oops!

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Oh, so it is another bug hunt then...

"hey look at that!, pink elephants! things are realy getting wierd here" 9024 shouts as walking skeletons dance in a swerling blue and pink vortex, eminating from the center of the bar table.

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" it's not an angry mob,' he anounced.
'Ook'
'It's an orang-utan carrying a stunned dwarf followed by a troll. but hes quite angry, if thats any help.' - Men At Arms Terry Pratchett

*His voice calls up from belowdecks.* How're things up there? I'll be tinkering with this thingamajig for a few more minutes, so hang on!

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-Traek Cicion, barkeep extraordinaire
"PS: If nothing's working around here, it's because I'm laughing so hard."
-Durandal

Herbert Fink crawls into the bar with his usual flair, whiskers trailing slightly behind his thin gray mane. He had just left his job at the old Cheese Satis-Factory, and had decided to take the first dip into his retirement money whereupon he entered "The Bar".
His old friends had talked of it in a nastaligic tone recalling happy memories. The emblazened letters shining from above the door read "The Officer's Club", but somehow, the oily, crazed patrons and skeletons hurling about the room made Herbert think that he had aquainted himself with truly mad mice.

Tail whipping back and forth as he manuvered around the floor, he began to wonder why everyone was seated on the ceiling. And, furthermore, why any architect would put seats and tables up there as well.
Then suddenly, it hit him. Actually just at the tip of his tail.

"Dag' gonnit! I'll tear you to pieces if I have to!" Yelled Cicion from the basement above.

- WHOMP!! -

Left foot squashed, Fink screams and cringes in mortal pain as a large black, and heavily oiled footprint evaporates onto the ceiling on top of the mouse.

- WHOMP! WHIP! FLAP! WHIZZ!-

Another four prints appear on the ceiling just around the darting Herbert. He gasps uncontrollably as the prints get closer and closer. He can feel his heart pounding his chest and- and! ......

- SLAM!!-gooshhh..... drip drip... drip... -

Herbert's entrails spray around the room. His tail falls pathetically on the counter above-or, shall I say, below.

"Did I get it?" Cicion calls up.

Tears well up in Anic's eyes, his lower chin trembles...

"Poor thing.... sigh." Anic continues "You lunkhead! Be careful down there."

"But did it work?"

Cold mettle clanging against barstool, Marvin sits down next to Anic with utter depression. "Uh,... no! Keep working!" Anic yells out.

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