Ye New Galactic Bar & Grill & Phong's Head Cantina - After Hours

[Gryphin]

:: Grabs, mac and saxon, steps through the escape hatch GrowlTigga had left exspressly for this purpose and steps into Earch, Circa 2003, Brighton, MA, City Side bar and Grill, orders up GTs favorite knowing he will be along shortly.
Orders a nutty brown ale, sits and waits to plan the next business venture ::

[dogscoff]

*Dogscoff lies broken on the cantina floor, staring death in the face for the third time that fortnight. The missiles screaming down through the stratosphere, and he watches them philosophically.

"Life sucks, then it's over" he muses.

"And then it sucks all over again. And again."

He decides he can at least get one more chuckle before being hideously exploded into bits. He reaches painfully into his back pocket and pulls out his "exorcism for dummies" book. He quickly steps to the appropriate page and performs the necessary rites. There is a horrific scream and a swirling vortex of wind and debris. He smiles, happy ikn the knowledge that Ragnarok has now been banished to eternal agony and damnation.

[David E. Gervais]

...psssssst Gt,.. down here,.. I wasn't sure if it's permitted to post a new message here, so I just edited this one to make contact! (Yes I know I'm a genius!)

Is the Cantina oficially closed? or are you pulling our collective vorpal legs?

hmmm,.. I just had an idea, what if a new thread was started where no-one was allowed to post more than once. We would always edit the original post to place new Messages. It could prove interesting, then again it might just be the ultimate in chaos! LOL

Sorry, I'm babbling again, well, what's up? Is it safe to post new Messages? And what about ordering drinks, I'm starting to get real thirsty!

Cheers!

[ March 14, 2003, 22:58: Message edited by: David E. Gervais ]

[dogscoff]

*dogscoff sneaks quietly toward the door...

[primitive]

Sob Sob Sob

The terrible tiger, the loveable lynx, the grim grimalkin, malicious mouser, cantankerous carnivore, sob sob sob.... is no more.

No more blowing of the horn, no more mounting of hapless animals, no more cartoon violence, mo more red hot poker cannon, no more no more... sob sob sob

And worst of all, buried by those Gregorian monks before the primitive one had a chance to skin him. What a terrible waste of a perfectly good hide.

[mac5732]

mac sitting with Saxon, Gryphin and Memphisto at the City Side Bar and Grill, discussing the demise of the cantina and the ghostlyness of GT, orders brewski's all around and toasts the now begone Cantina.... while they wait for all the other members to arrive both in flesh and some in spirit.. eyes start to water, wind is broken in memory of the good times, what will be next.... who knows.......

But until Then

100 bottles of Beer on the wall
100 bottles of beer
if one should happen to fall
99 bottles of beer on the wall
99 bottles of beer........

tick, tick, tick

[Growltigger]

BOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!

The green and pleasant land surrounding the cantina is bLasted to atoms by the missiles.....

The conflagration Lasts for hours, a firestorm sweeps its away across the cantina sterlising it to such an extent that even the health and safety inspectors would not find fault (well, maybe the radiation and the ash may cause some concern for the food licence).

The fires subside, all is quiet.

The ghostly shades of Gryphin and Growltigga materialise in the wreckage. A popping sound can be heard as Growltigga pulls out an ethereal bottle of Vive Cliquot Ponsardin from a mystic ice bucket. A ghostly tray of canapes appears in his hand.

"Yup, done it again, second time around and the universe is ours (again). What d'ya reckon Gryph old boy, shall we retire from the restaurant and leisure business or do we fancy third time lucky?, I mean, the only survivors from this one is Barry and those reserve FBW's I hid in the Tigg-Scoff bunker"...

Gryphin leans close and whispers in his ear

[Stone Mill]

Striding forward with his steed, clad in his aminal skin loin cloth, Primitive surveys the desolate lands of a once familiar haunt. His woman, also dressed in a fur bikini, clutches his oiled chest as they ride.

It is all laid waste. Just craggy rocks, sand, and a rushing tide against sedimentary shattered particles.

Primitive grunts as he ponders. Amazing. No sign of civilization at all. Wait... He dismounts his horse. Something is peculiar.

Around the bend of a jagged cliff, a meaningful form protrudes. Primitive staggers closer.

His eyes buldge in disbelief and his teeth clench as he chokes.

"Damn you... "

Primitive falls to the ground.

"YOU MANIACS-- YOU BLEW IT UP!"

"DAMN YOU-- DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!"

Wind coldly caresses Primitive's pained face as he looks on...
the shattered remains of the Galactic Bar's Phong, buried ominously in the terrain.

...

[ March 15, 2003, 00:17: Message edited by: Stone Mill ]

[primitive]

Ahh,
So thats what I was doing

I had this strange dream I was floating in the astral plane, not knowing up from down, life from death, my Kylie clone from my Naomi clone.

Thank for putting it all straight

[Gryphin]

Primitive,
This is for you, sorta a "big boom" present.
http://www.windingstream.com/se/SePi...bsforpeace.jpg

Steps close to GT, holds up my glass to classy ghost. To the non future. A great ending to a great thread.

[ March 15, 2003, 00:41: Message edited by: Gryphin ]