#barhumor

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 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…

All of the tables are pushed together in the middle of the pub floor. All of the regulars, including Hugo, are passing around a rather large photo album. Pictures of the pub during the noughties. Rufus barks a laugh, “And we were a little naughty!” Medusa rolls her eyes, “Someone has to say it, might as well have been you.” Larry snorts, “Do you kiss Rena with that mouth?” The book slides to…

Another night…another decade in the glen behind Sprinkles Mystic Pub. The still has donned a block colored, button down shirt and a ten gallon cowboy hat for no apparent reason. It refuses to elaborate. The woodland creatures are all doing the Watermelon Crawl. A squirrel shows off a barbecue stain on a white tee shirt from the dumpster behind Deirdre’s Desire Den like it’s a badge of…