The Troll's Head

[stu neville]

The dust covers are all off, the jukebox rejigged to accept bitcoin, the pool table re-napped and the pumps and optics all ready for action. The staff are these days robotic and will automatically respond, in order, to all of your requirements, but I will from time to time be behind the bar.

Ladies and Gentlemen - - the Troll's Head is open once more for business. Make yourselves at home.

 

[Yithian]

*Wipes dust from body, staggers down from the attic with the mother of all hangovers*

Good God, I hurt. Where's Melf?
I'm pretty sure that he mixed my last drink about eight years ago.

Evenin', Stu.

(Good timing, incidentally. I'm actually somewhat sloshed have been entertaining new neighbours with a hideous mingling of lager, wine and rum.)

 

[stu neville]

Evenin' Yith.

Melf was poached by a large Manc chain of theme boozers - don't blame him, pay was far better. The Scruttocks Faintly Peculiar is on special tonight...

 

[Yithian]

Poached by the Mancs? *Grumble-grumble*

Yeah, Scruttocks wotsit, pint. And a pack of salt n' vinegar, Don't mind me by the jukebox.

You really need to scrape those overhead beams, they're positively furry.

 

[stu neville]

I'll get to 'em. Right - time to unleash the robo-barstaff! Click!!

*Windows theme sounds*

Oh blimey...

 

[Shady]

Wheres the rest of the troll at?

 

[Mythopoeika]

 

[Yithian]

Wheres the rest of the troll at?

Decomposed, beneath the bridge five miles back down the road.
Inverurie Jones couldn't carry the whole thing.

(May be an urban/rural myth)

 

[stu neville]

The rest of the troll is unceremoniously, spontaneously combusted in a fireplace next to its own armchair. Doesn't even see it coming (mainly cos the head is already on the spike outside..)

 

[stu neville]

Heavily decomposed, beneath the bridge five miles back down the road.
Inverurie Jones couldn't carry the whole thing.

...nah, not going there...

 

[stu neville]

Have to make tracks, chaps - the Robostaff will look after you. May be back later..

 

[Shady]

*jumps in the cosiest chair by the fire* Mine

 

[Coal]

*sits by fire with pint in straight glass and stretches out legs*

 

[ramonmercado]

*trips over Coal's legs*

 

[Shady]

And what pray are you doing in my lap Mr Mercado?

 

[Mythopoeika]

And what pray are you doing in my lap Mr Mercado?

I think he may have been dancing.

 

[Shady]

Well there i was just having a nice kip and i get a lap dance, is it free?

 

[Coal]

*trips over Coal's legs*

Oi, you spilled my pint!

 

[Shady]

Be careful Ramon, you'll be dancing on hot coals with that one

 

[Doc]

*transmats in from multiverse+1, looking scourged and singed, a snarling hamster eyeing the bar from each pocket. Muttering "Jerry=Bianca, Bianca=Jerry, Rupert was a bear", shoves a walnut into each gaping hamster maw, approaches the bar and says "pint o'Bells please mate" ..

 

[Frideswide]

a hideous mingling of lager, wine and rum.

do you want them to stop being neighbours? or is it that you drink it and they get to watch? *fascinated* :revelry:

 

[Frideswide]

The rest of the troll is unceremoniously, spontaneously combusted in a fireplace next to its own armchair. Doesn't even see it coming (mainly cos the head is already on the spike outside..)

I don't believe you :creepy: I see sausage rolls on the bar snack menu........

 

[Frideswide]

*jumps in the cosiest chair by the fire* Mine

selects cosy human-sized hang on the radiator hammock cat bed...... looks around for radiator..... :cry:

 

[Shady]

Sausage Trolls

 

[Frideswide]

Sausage Trolls

*scream* :rofl::rofl::rofl::rofl::rofl:

 

[ramonmercado]

Oi, you spilled my pint!

*have another. pours pint of extra bitter over coal*

 

[Shady]

Im not cleaning that up, nope

 

[Frideswide]

beer is a very good shampoo but you need to rinse it thoroughly.

 

[Rerenny]

Scene: Exterior: Night:
(distant sound of "lively" conversation...)
"in 'ere, 'sopen"
(sound of door creaking)
"yep, 'ere's fine...landy?!? pint of 'ur besy, good sire"
(sound of a body falling to the floor)
"'ur alright mate, we'll get her home, ur here permo? excellent! We'll be back on the morrow when she's rested!...come on angel, you go with the nice man in the stab vest, he'll get 'ur home...see you tomoz guys!!!!
(sound of a policeman carrying a happy wanderer home)

Yay, the pub's back!!!!!

 

[Rerenny]

Did Burnley win? BT owes me a pint!!