#adulthumor

The pub is in a state of organized chaos. Tables scrape across the floor. Chairs are lined up in crooked rows facing the television. Karl passes out plates of tapas and bowls of popcorn with the grim determination of a kraken preparing for battle. “Last call before the show starts,” Hugo announces from his stool. “No one asked you,” Medusa replies. Behind the bar, Sprinkles finishes the last…

The Pub Reopens Larry is the first to walk in to the pub. The wood gleams. All the surfaces have been waxed and polished to a healthy….brown. Everything still looks the same, just–newer. Larry goes back outside and starts hauling in all the karaoke equipment he’d rescued from the floor. Medusa is looking rather lovely. Her alabaster skin has a healthy glow. Larry stops with a woofer in one hand…

It’s a little after dinnertime at the pub when Hugo walks in with a camera and hits record. “Sprinkles, give us yer best one-liner, mate.” Sprinkles is behind the bar, barely looks up from wiping down yet another spill and says, “First call to last, flat on ya ass.” Hugo chuckles, “Gilly, got a watery one-liner for the folks at home?” Gillberta straightens and lifts her chin. Her Ramones tee…

The glen outside Sprinkles Mystic Pub is insanely serene. Summer is looming with the great existential question of “To dehydrate or to not severely dehydrate the Earth…”. The bees are buzzing, the birds are tweeting, and the squirrels are squirreling. The brook is…well, babbling incoherently, because that’s what brooks do. The still is shining in the sun, the copper burnished in a most peculiar…

The Monthly Rapport by Elandro J. Gobiline I walked into Sprinkles Mystic Pub expecting there to be…more. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was expecting, to be honest. Just…more. I sat at the middle table for a better vantage point and was immediately advised to move. One patron leant forward and advised me in a low tone, “I wouldn’t sit there for long. Marge might take offense.” I joined the…

Somewhere between 2010 and 2019 something went horribly, terribly…sideways, and we were here for it. The musical strains of Something Just Like This by The Chainsmokers and Coldplay float through the glen behind Sprinkles Mystic Pub. Two confused squirrels sit in the Y of a tree trunk, contemplating their snack choices. A badger stops at his reflection in the copper still, obviously thinking…