Initiation Part 1 (the passing of the sticks)
@11 took a turn for the bizarre… As usual it was the thing that never happens. I don’t remember exactly where I was @11, but I do remember becoming aware of a rather intentional low grade radiation pulse beginning to affect everyone in the bar from the waist down. I would describe it as warm and tingly, coupled with a mild concern. The mild concern was hard to absolutely attribute to the radiation pulse since the room was also starting to fill with smoke.
It was initiate night @11. (more on this later) The gist however, as it turned out, was that the whole thing was a massively failed promotional gag causing the senseless death of countless ostriches. The infamous +1 @11 coupon which had been concocted by the establishment and orchestrated by none other than the, mystically barbaric, (said in a sing-songy voice to the tune of the lucky charms jingle ) enigma known as Numlock.
@11 was jumping, we were blasting, Coqnoir was playing, & every nook in the place was occupied to the sheer delight of the Establishment, and most of us knew that the craziest part- the whole Treeder-Skyfox incident was nearing crescendo. The truth is that more than half of the occupants were Robert Skyfox, which was beginning to be a problem.
Turin walks in and hands Numlock his +1 coupon.
“Grug”
“Sheetle this is Numlock. Numlock, Sheetle.”
“Grug”
“Well done Mr. Numlock. You are correct; she is the poetic anarchist that I’ve been observing. You seem to be busy tonight I will allow you to return to your duties. And I’m looking quite forward to tonight’s unfolding. Have Ms. Marzel and Treeder arrived?
“Grug”
Turin walks Sheetle over to the bar, and the Establishment sets two drinks down in front of them and proceeds to mark them into the tab book.
“Rather smoky in here Barkeep?” Turin Asks in his normal non-questioning manner.
The Establishment yells across the bar, “Numlock…. Can you get the fire in the sidebar under control? I think a small group of Skyfoxes are trying to send smoke signals in here.”
Numlock slides into the sidebar room where the smoke billowed from the archway.
“Grug” (with bouncer tone) and he points to the exit.
Soon all the Skyfox clones began to follow Numlock in single file towards the exit @11. As the precession neared the door, it swung open and there stood Ms. Marzel and Treeder. Seeing the precession heading towards them, Treeder joyfully panics at the crisis and runs in the opposite direction. Meanwhile Ms. Marzel, in grand contrast, calmly saunters towards the bar. Numlock, the Indians, and some others simply caught up in the moment precede full speed into the parking lot.
In cloned unison the mass of Skyfoxes let forth a terrifying Indian battle cry which, we think, translated to “Get Treeder!”
Treeder dove into the dumpster impaling himself onto a 12 inch blade held by the thumb and three fingers of the original Robert Skyfox. Engraved onto handle of the blade was an inscription “To my one and only, Rebus, may this dagger keep us safe. your friend and owner Jack Treeder.”
One by one, all the Skyfoxes lept into the dumpster. THUD BLANG THAWK. Some of the non- Skyfoxes caught up in the mob also leaped like lemmings into the dumpster.
Slamming down the lid, Numlock pulls a lever and dumpster lets out a terrible high pitched screech causing the alarms of all Illuminatis in the parking lot to trigger simultaneously into a pulsing symphony of universal disorintation.
The dumpster phased in and out and it was done.
Meanwhile inside @11, something even stranger was happening. There was no music, no Coqnoir, the bar was near silent. Apparently the drummer for Coqnoir found himself caught up in the frenzy and had unfortunately also been annihilated in the dumpster incident.
It was at this moment that Turin and Ericka each handed Numlock the Sticks.
“Grug”
“The icing is on the wall, Numlock” Turin replied
Numlock emptied his pocket full of the @11 +1 coupons and set them down on the bar, walks up to the stage and climbs behind the drums.
“This song is dedicated to Jack Treeder, time traveler and crisis man. Give us the beat Numlock!”
“Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug!”
They played “Wars & Religion” all night.
As the Barkeep walked up to Ericka and Turin, I walked over and sat next to them. “What’s with all the dead ostriches in the parking lot? “
Ericka pointed to up side down coupons left on the bar.
They read “Ostriches may expire without notice. THE ESTABLISHMENT”
It was initiate night @11. (more on this later) The gist however, as it turned out, was that the whole thing was a massively failed promotional gag causing the senseless death of countless ostriches. The infamous +1 @11 coupon which had been concocted by the establishment and orchestrated by none other than the, mystically barbaric, (said in a sing-songy voice to the tune of the lucky charms jingle ) enigma known as Numlock.
@11 was jumping, we were blasting, Coqnoir was playing, & every nook in the place was occupied to the sheer delight of the Establishment, and most of us knew that the craziest part- the whole Treeder-Skyfox incident was nearing crescendo. The truth is that more than half of the occupants were Robert Skyfox, which was beginning to be a problem.
Turin walks in and hands Numlock his +1 coupon.
“Grug”
“Sheetle this is Numlock. Numlock, Sheetle.”
“Grug”
“Well done Mr. Numlock. You are correct; she is the poetic anarchist that I’ve been observing. You seem to be busy tonight I will allow you to return to your duties. And I’m looking quite forward to tonight’s unfolding. Have Ms. Marzel and Treeder arrived?
“Grug”
Turin walks Sheetle over to the bar, and the Establishment sets two drinks down in front of them and proceeds to mark them into the tab book.
“Rather smoky in here Barkeep?” Turin Asks in his normal non-questioning manner.
The Establishment yells across the bar, “Numlock…. Can you get the fire in the sidebar under control? I think a small group of Skyfoxes are trying to send smoke signals in here.”
Numlock slides into the sidebar room where the smoke billowed from the archway.
“Grug” (with bouncer tone) and he points to the exit.
Soon all the Skyfox clones began to follow Numlock in single file towards the exit @11. As the precession neared the door, it swung open and there stood Ms. Marzel and Treeder. Seeing the precession heading towards them, Treeder joyfully panics at the crisis and runs in the opposite direction. Meanwhile Ms. Marzel, in grand contrast, calmly saunters towards the bar. Numlock, the Indians, and some others simply caught up in the moment precede full speed into the parking lot.
In cloned unison the mass of Skyfoxes let forth a terrifying Indian battle cry which, we think, translated to “Get Treeder!”
Treeder dove into the dumpster impaling himself onto a 12 inch blade held by the thumb and three fingers of the original Robert Skyfox. Engraved onto handle of the blade was an inscription “To my one and only, Rebus, may this dagger keep us safe. your friend and owner Jack Treeder.”
One by one, all the Skyfoxes lept into the dumpster. THUD BLANG THAWK. Some of the non- Skyfoxes caught up in the mob also leaped like lemmings into the dumpster.
Slamming down the lid, Numlock pulls a lever and dumpster lets out a terrible high pitched screech causing the alarms of all Illuminatis in the parking lot to trigger simultaneously into a pulsing symphony of universal disorintation.
The dumpster phased in and out and it was done.
Meanwhile inside @11, something even stranger was happening. There was no music, no Coqnoir, the bar was near silent. Apparently the drummer for Coqnoir found himself caught up in the frenzy and had unfortunately also been annihilated in the dumpster incident.
It was at this moment that Turin and Ericka each handed Numlock the Sticks.
“Grug”
“The icing is on the wall, Numlock” Turin replied
Numlock emptied his pocket full of the @11 +1 coupons and set them down on the bar, walks up to the stage and climbs behind the drums.
“This song is dedicated to Jack Treeder, time traveler and crisis man. Give us the beat Numlock!”
“Grug, Grug, Grug, Grug!”
They played “Wars & Religion” all night.
As the Barkeep walked up to Ericka and Turin, I walked over and sat next to them. “What’s with all the dead ostriches in the parking lot? “
Ericka pointed to up side down coupons left on the bar.
They read “Ostriches may expire without notice. THE ESTABLISHMENT”
posted by Nicholas Holt at 4:23 PM
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