The Poly Pub Thread

[jsorense]

"How do Ming and rah stay 1 step ahead of me?" thought jsorense as the "Ahhhhhhs" from The Great Gig in the Sky bathed him in their sublimity. There was only one thing to do now. He had to pump Mrs. Civ for more data. There was something about that woman that just didn't add up. She always seemed breathless and in a hurry. She did love to dance though. Maybe, just maybe, he could hold her in his arms one more time before the questioning.

[jsorense]

This time Aeson let him in to The Poly Pub without a hassle. It was another Tuesday night and the mosh pit was in full turmoil. Was it a dance or was it a brawl? Let Aeson sort it out, after all, it was his job. Glancing up jsorense noticed that Mrs. Civ was still hanging out in a booth, still studying her books, still anxious and still too distracted to observer his arrival. Worrying about the coming interview jsorense walked to the jukebox, dropped in a quarter and pressed the buttons for a sentimental favorite; Emmylou Harris' "Save the Last Dance for Me."

[jsorense]

As jsorense turned from the jukebox and started toward the booth through the vociferous crowd he found that his path was blocked by a tall nattily dressed man: none other than the elusive Mr. Sidmeier.
"You're coming with me jsorense, or should I call you Agent Jay?" he asked seemingly politely.
"Sorry Mad Monk, but I have an important appointment to keep." offered jsorense.
"Keep your hands away from your pockets, dude. I'll be the one keeping that appointment." He flashed a coal black automatic to show that he meant it. "You see me and Mrs. Civ we have a lot to discuss. And my plans don't include the crude moves of an old washed up IIIS flatfoot like you."
All jsorense could do was smile with the confidence he didn't feel and head in the direction The Mad Monk pointed, back into the lare of Ming the malificent and rah the beast. The jukebox began to play "Psycho Killer."

[jsorense]

Unfortunately for The Mad Monk the only way across the pub was directly through the mosh-pit. He tried to keep jsorense under control through the gyrating, contorted and flying bodies. It was like a hellish high-speed game of Twister and in the middle of the swarm jsorense made his move, actually a whole series of them. First he kicked back hard and down with his cowboy boots, the thick heels smashing into thin loafers. As cartilage popped he threw himself back into the surprised arms of his captor in a move he had learned from his tango with Mrs. Civ. They crumbled into a heap that seemed only natural in the frenzied pit action. In the confusion he leaped up and ran for the Exit. "What's wrong with this place?" he breathed. "It used to be such a nice quite bar." jsorense dove through the door and made tracks down the dark, rain-soaked street.

[jsorense]

Getting up her courage Mrs. Civ bit the bullet and hurried over to The Mad Monk and helped him to his feet and over to the booth. As they sat down MikeH materialized and took their drinks orders.
"Thank you Mrs. Civ., I hadn't expected to meet you in this manner." Said Sidmeier.
"You certainly took your time. Are you shy?" Murmured Mrs. Civ. "What's your beef with jsorense?"

[My Wife Hates CIV]

Has anyone seen my wife'?

[jsorense]

Has anyone seen my wife'?

Mr. Civ asked Aeson at the gates to The Poly Pub.
Playing dumb and fishing for a tip the husky bouncer offered, "Well, I don't know, sir. Whar is her name, whar does she look like and how is she dressed?"
Mr. Civ did a double take and then reached for his money clip. He had to get inside the bar and didn't feel like playing any games. Well, maybe he did like games but now was not the time. Anyway, it was high time for another drink.

[jsorense]

After Mr. Civ paid his "entrance fee" he was nearly bowled over by an old guy in cowboy boots running out of the pub.
"Must be bad octopus." commented Mr. Civ as he crossed the threshold into the unknown and unknowable. He longingly observed the mosh pit but there was no time for that now, he was on a mission to find the love of his life, the mysterious Mrs. Civ.

[jsorense]

The first thing Mr. Civ did after he cleared the anarchy pit was to make a bee line to the bar. MikeH was again holding down that particular fort, polishing the already spotless ale glasses.
"What will it be, mate? Looks like you're in a hurry." said the bartender who did look a lot like a book keeper from Reading.
"Give me a rum and coke friend." stated Mr. Civ. Then shuffling through a wad of cash he added, "I'm looking for a woman."
MikeH put his elbows on the bar and grinned a big Limey grin and said, "Well who isn't, govnor?"

[jsorense]

Laughing uproariously at his own lame joke MikeH started to work his mixology magic humming "Rule Britainia."
"'ere ya are, mate." smiled MikeH as he plunked down the drink. "What'll it be next old boy?"
Looking over his drink Mr. Civ decided he could trust the joker and asked him, "Has a lady with two bags of books come in here?"
"Books you say? We don't get much of that here at Poly." mused MikeH. "But if anyone did they would be sitting right over there."
Mr. Civ looked in the direction indicated and there she was sitting in a booth with some strange man in deep conversation. He rushed over to the booth and demanded, "If you don't come home to dinner soon the brussel sprouts will burn!"
Startled by her husbands sudden appearance Mrs. Civ looked up with wide, appreciative eyes.
"Give us a kiss, sweetie." she purred.
"My Wife" exploded from the juke box rousing the once moribund mosh pit.

[jsorense]

Meanwhile jsorense was booking it down the street until he found his Pinto. He dove in and raced, well maybe you couldn't exactly say 'raced', down the boulevard. A familiar feeling arose in jsorens's stomach, he was hungry. Time for a 'time out' from the investigation and time for a run to White Castle. Time for more tunes on the food old 8-track. How about a little of "Who's Next."

[jsorense]

After polishing off a couple of dozen tasty mouthfuls of gustatory heaven jsorense returned home to his apartment for a shower, shave and a change of cloths. For his next foray to The Poly Pub for a climactic showdown he chose his clothing carefully: torn jeans, Jesus boots, faded denim shirt, peace beads and a bandana tied over his head. In other words he looked either like a 1960's hippie or a 2010's teenager. He checked his S&W .38 and slipped it into his man-purse. It clinked against a pint of Boodles gin.

[jsorense]

jsorense arrived in front of The Poly Pub in a roar and clatter of a knocking four-banger. All was strangely quiet for a 'Wet T-shirt Thursday'. Even the rainbow colored neon sigh was off. Puzzled jsorense crossed the "Police Line Do Not Cross" yellow tape that festooned the front doors which were cocked-eyed and off of their hinges. The interior of the club was dark, a lot darker than usual but it was evident by they echoing footsteps that the place was empty. Not only empty but stripped and vacuumed. Like some giant spaceship had beamed the entire contents, including the patrons, up, out and way far away.
"I'll be damned!" sighed jsorense. "I've never seen anything like this."
The Great Bodhivastu Jukebox commented with The Doors "The End."

[jsorense]

^Bump^

In case anyone missed this masterpiece of interactive fiction.