The Crossroads of the Aether
Dear Ladies and Gentlemen, I hereby formally invite you to attend The Accepted Cog Saloon.
For all those worried about the time of day, do not fret. I have oft heard the saying "it is 5'oclock on Friday somewhere." Well I fed this data into my analytical engine, then plugged it into one of Mr. Steampunker's temporal iris machines. Once the crank on the tabulator was turned, Eureka, a temporal time shift bubble encased the saloon. Once you enter the doors of this place, it is 5 of the clock on a Friday afternoon, and you can pack up your worries and enjoy it like it is the weekend tomorrow.
What happens after you leave the temporal bubble is your problem, sorry.
Want a beverage or foodstuff that does not exist in England in the Year 18..? Do not fret. A well respected author I refer to a lot discovered L-space, that dimension created by the accumulation of knowledge into which all libraries in time and space are linked.
I reasoned that since once alcohol is consumed people seem to know everything, the same principles could be applied here, thus:
Alcohol=knowledge, knowledge=power, power = energy, energy=matter, and matter=mass.
Since mass has the ability to warp space, this formulae allowed me to punch through the barrier of space and time and link all places where alcohol is served via B-space, wherever and whenever they may be. So, request a food or drink, and I shall navigate the labyrinth of B-space to find you your desire (by removing it from another’s establishment) and return to you in mere moments. There is a karma in it all, as I have allowed other barkeeps entrance to the system, so we all borrow from each other.
So, come one, come all, park your air ships on the roof, shrug off your jetpacks and coats, wipe the coal dust from your cheeks, and come in for an evening of entertainment and lively discussion.
No offense taken. The absinth is lovely. Thank you kindly.
Hmm, that admiring chests comment may have been too forward. I offer my apologies mam, and shall remember to keep my inane chatter at a level much more becoming of a gentleman in the future. If i knew your taste in music i would offer you a link to a melody of your choice as a gift for your quiet perusal, however try this little song chosen randomly from my folder.
(P.S. I have never posted music so i have no idea if it works)
I do not think you too forward. I thank you none the less for the music. Music and a good drink can cure all my ills. Of course it is Thursday and I am already feeling sooo much better.
HUH? Oh... I seemed to have dozed off for a spell. What ever is the time? Five O'clock is it?!?! OH BARKEEP....
Hmm, what is happening in here?
If you all don't mind, I'd rather like to sit down and enjoy myself a nice, tall drink... a strong drink...
Ahh, it's been a long week, and it's barely half over!
Afternoon sir, thankyou for joining us. Sorry about the rowdiness in here just now, normally it is not so out of hand. A tall drink you say. What do you think Wally? A long iced tea with a generous measure of rum? Just the thing to relax after a harrasing week.
Thanking you dearly, Wally.
And yes, that sounds lovely, James. As for the ruckus in here, I don't mind... though it is an unusual change from the morgue.
Hm... it's been a while since I've been around this many people.
Erm, breathing people, that is.
give it enough time and they will be lying as still as your clientele, just snoring softly.
Another round gents?
another victim of The Accepted Cogs temporal hiccups.