NationStates Jolt Archive

But Angelino didn't antisipate that Cybertoria's team, had beened trained by Emperor Palpatine himself and were well traind in the darkside of the force and each member of Cybertoria's team used "Force Lightning" on Angelino's team to make their next score.

News flash: Cybertoria's makes 3000 replies

I think that means he should buy us all a round.

Ok, that's my joke for the month.

A "Hell no" replied Jeremy, and now back to the game, Cybertoria's use of Darkside powers, was helping them win the game there were cheers from the Cybertoria surporters each time the team scored points.

All the players suddenly pulled lightsabers, dropped the ball, and the entire game degenerated into a fierce melee.

There were no survivors, not even the spectators.

(Lets nix this whole game, eh? Nothing valuable or coherent is coming out of this.)

All the players suddenly pulled lightsabers, dropped the ball, and the entire game degenerated into a fierce melee.

There were no survivors, not even the spectators.

(Lets nix this whole game, eh? Nothing valuable or coherent is coming out of this.)

Drawing his dart gun swiftly, Otterby quickly reduced the players and the majority of the spectators, to snoring masses on the flaw as the strong tranquilisor took effect.

"I never did thank Byron for this," he reflected and called out "Thanks Byron, this thing really works", loudly.

Realising that the bar was now almost completely silent, Otterby took the opportunity to pull out his novel and do some quiet reading, accompanied by his customary Guinness.

Jeremy after regainig contionist, decided to "borrow" a bottle of Green Apple Snapps from Neville's bar.

Jeremy after regainig contionist, decided to "borrow" a bottle of Green Apple Snapps from Neville's bar.

Otterby's dart gun jammed as he prepared to "pacify" Jeremy and he thus bid the Strangers Bar a speedy farewell and fled downstairs into the still open crypt of the U.N. Gnomes.

This left a stunned and nervous looking Holt to face up to Jeremy.

"Why Jeremy", he exclaimed shrilly, "how lovely of you to offer me a drink".

And then turned and fainted, landing with a thud on the carpet.

Jeremy cursed Otterby, as he feel uncontious.

Jeremy cursed Otterby, as he feel uncontious.

Gurgle took another drag from the keg that served as his personal wineglass.

He had stayed out of the rugby match, fearing--quite justifiably, it turned out--that it would devolve into something even less civilized than a scrum. It wouldn't have been much of a contest if he had entered, anyway. Even force lightning couldn't penetrate his shiny bronze scales, and even men who could bench press a quarter ton would find themselves unable to lift a dragon that weighed in at several of them. With the cybertonians being the testosterone-poisoned bunch that they were, this was a formula for disaster.

Still, some effort at diplomacy was essential here. Most of the bar patrons, including the gnomes, were unconscious, and one of its curators had fallen into the gnomes' makeshift crypt. This, Gurgle concluded, was not condusive to the refilling of his keg at the appropriate time.

"You know, old chap," Gurlge said to the remaining curator as he, with his tail, lifted the fallen one out of the burial pit, "that Cybertonian fellow has been rather anti-social all evening long. Perhaps you might want to consider doing something like--oh, I don't know--charging his consulate for the liquor that he's stolen."

Holt came to his senses and saw that Jeremy was snoring away peacefully on the ground. Gurgle was remonstrating one of the curators who had fallen in the Gnomes Crypt. Taking his chance, Holt ducked under the right wing of the dragon and dived headfirst into the crypt, slamming the trapdoor behind him on the way down.

Varia was reading a plaque on one wall.

...this is not intended to turn into an extension of the boozy parties that some threads seem to. There's a certain decorum to be maintained in a Bar like this, even if your nation is a cross between Libya, Saddam's Iraq, Haiti and Zimbabwe...
She raised her eyebrows at the unfamiliar names.

...A few billiards tables maybe, possibly a dart board, a few private-looking alcoves, a menu catering to all tastes, beers from around the world on tap, most spirits known to man somewhere about, wood-panelled walls, leather chairs and a collection of old maps and portraits of old diplomats on the walls...
She looked around. What the hell happened?

As if compelled by some strange, otherworldly force Giordano kissed Neville against the wood-panelled walls.

Hannah and Stephanie suddenly both shocked back into movement. It had happened again, the dreaded 'where's the narrator gone?' syndrome.

Stephanie decided that work could always wait, she'd go back to playing patience. Getting out her pack of cards (http://test256.free.fr/UN%20Cards/cards.htm), she was heard to mutter, "Boy, this is getting unwieldy".

Hannah, on the other hand, was transfixed by seeing Giordano plant one right on Neville. "This certainly didn't happen last time I was here."

Angelina and her two guards woke up at roughly the same time. After staggering about for a few moments, the guards went into a panic. Angelina tried to calm them, assuring them that everyone had been out, not just them. Nevertheless, the guards started grabbing random people and interrogating them to make sure that no state secrets had slipped.

Even the UN gnomes were interrogated.

"You know, old chap," Gurgle said to the unconscious Otterby, "I was really
hoping that I wouldn't have to do this."

He put the man's unconscious body down, and uncurled his prehensile tail
from around it, and

::GURGLE::

Instant Smelling "Salts"

There was a second part to that daintiness spell.

Otterby's eyes shot open and he remained motionless and speechless for a long time. If one bent down to listen to him however, after a while, one could hear a faint voice saying:

"The horror, the horror".

OVer and over again.

*Ays the Thermidorean diplomat and a fellow diplomat from the Region of Gay walks in.

Seeing Giordano planting a kiss on Neville's lips, his eyes lit up! "See - i told you Neville was gay" he said to the other diplomat, "my Gaydar's never wrong, now pay up!"

Sighing, the second diplomat paid Ays, and winking at Neville and Giordano the two went to order a drink from an "unoccupied" bartender.

"As if compelled by some strange, otherworldly force Giordano kissed Neville against the wood-panelled walls.

"Overcome by conflicting emotions, Neville swooned gracefully onto a creased leather chair beneath a flaking portrait of an old diplomat. His long, dark eyelashes fluttered delicately against his translucent skin, the black velvet of his well-tailored coat subtly emphasising the manly beauty of his muscular form ..."

"Wow! Truly-really?" said Dicey.

"No, not truly-really," said Neville, annoyed. "It's fiction, dammit! I've been reading Euro's stickies and I really think it's helped my style."

"But he always says write about what you know," said Dicey mischievously. "So, Neville, are you gay?"

"I am ... discreet," Neville answered, repressively. "Giordano and I are Very Good Friends. Indeed, I have many Very Good Friends at the UN." His gaze wandered reminiscently around the room, lingering occasionally to exchange meaningful glances.

"I am also versatile," he added, barely audible above the alcoholic buzz from the extraordinary variety of multi-gendered sentient beings who were paying tribute to the Bar's on-tap beers from around the world and its selection of most spirits known to man.

Bast, following his gaze, looked unconvinced. "That's not physically possible," he observed. "Not that one, anyway. And certainly not that one; I mean, I give you credit for some taste."

Neville raised an eyebrow and examined his perfectly polished nails.

"Let us not be Catty," he told Dicey's Feline Advisor. "Stephanie ... Hannah ... Varia ... Giordano? Dicey? Perhaps you'd like to try this?"

The Barlord efficiently poured a curious magenta-and-navy liquid into various tankards, careful to ensure that the rising golden bubbles gave a satisfying, but not excessive, head to the enticingly scented potion.

"Where's Bahgum when you need him?" he mused silently. "I would have liked to try this on a Mother-In-Law first. But, after all, what are friends for?"

"Ohh drinks. What do you call this one?"

Without waiting for the answer he downed the girly looking drink.

"I liked the bubbles but it didn"t really do anything. No offence or out, luv."

Giordano distracted himself with a peach (fruit idiot) seemingly oblivious to the fact that the juices were running down his arm to ruin his shirt.

"Good God," said Rose, "it's finally happened. Giordano has developed an immunity to alcohol."

Varia supped tentatively at the vividly coloured beverage. Her apprehension subsided slightly - it was really quite lovely.

"Neville, dearest - what's in this? I'd like to know before I knock the rest back. Just in case."

... "Neville, dearest - what's in this? I'd like to know before I knock the rest back. Just in case."

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," said Nevile airily.

There was no way he was going to admit that it had been delivered to the Bar with an anonymous covering note announcing in magenta ink on navy notepaper that it was 'From A Well-Wisher'.

Besides, it was not as if he'd been irresponsible about it. He had given a truly hefty swig of it to Brother Tim's goat, which lived in the Bar's courtyard, and the goat was clearly none the worse.

In the light of subsequent events, it was, to say the least, unfortunate that Neville had not had a rural upbringing. He was totally unware of the digestive capabilities of the average goat.

Not, we must hasten to add, that any Findhornian goat could be termed an 'average' goat.

Otterby's eyes shot open and he remained motionless and speechless for a long time. If one bent down to listen to him however, after a while, one could hear a faint voice saying:

"The horror, the horror".

OVer and over again.

The dragon chuckled, and a sinful grin spread over his reptilian features. "Better stiffen the old upper lip, old chap," he said. "I can always try to ply you with an 'antidote.'"

Hannah and Stephanie both took one of the mystery drinks of Neville's.

"Truely delightful," Hannah mused after taking a sip.

Stephanie, on the other hand, decided it would be safer to wait and see what the effects of the magenta-and-navy drink. Something she was glad to have done, when she noticed Giordano and Varia turning magenta, and Hannah turning navy.

"Er, Neville? Seems your concoction has had a few side-effects..."

...she noticed Giordano and Varia turning magenta, and Hannah turning navy.
Giordano had first noticed his new colour when he went to lick a stray drop of peach juice from his wrist.

"This isn't very Goth"

Kaigan and Midori return to the bar, their unexpected business completed.

Kaigan has also changed out of his uniform and wears a navy blue kimono, black hakama and a haori over-jacket with the insignia of the Kirisuban army embroidered into it. Midori still wears her green kimono. they both still have their honour blades.

seeing the strange coloured delegates Kaigan and Midori wonder whats happened and order a beer each.

"Er, Neville? Seems your concoction has had a few side-effects..."

"Quite attractive, though," said Neville, who was evenly divided: magenta on the left side and navy on the right. "I wonder why it doesn't make us all the same colour?"

"We should time it to see how long it takes to wear off," suggested Dicey, whose new magenta colouration extended even to her formerly vivid red curls.

"If it wears off," Bast chimed in gloomily. He was, visually, the least affected: his white-furred parts had turned navy, but in the Bar's diffused lighting this merely made him look like an all-black Cat.

"You look cool like that," Dicey soothed. "You should go round crossing people's paths for luck. And if it lasts till New Year you'll be really in demand for First-Footing."

"Ye gods, a Pinko Pollyanna," Bast snorted.

"Well, it's done it's worst," Dicey said, unmoved by the insult. "And it tastes great. So set 'em up, Neville."

Giordano decided that he'd much rather be eating berries then peaches. Only oranges were left in the fruit bowl though. He took one look at Neville.

And then licked him.

"Blueberry… Raspberry… Blueberry… Raspberry…"

Kaigan & Midori get their beers and Kaigan raises an eyebrow.

he'd seen a lot of strange things already in his life and that was even before he got to the UN.

"Neville, whats up with muliti-coloured ambassadors?" he asks as he and his colleague take a seat at the bar.

Byron sat in cubicle 3 of the bars sumptious toilets after reading "war and Peace" in its entirity. Well that was crap he thought and he attempted to stand. He immediatly fell to the floor as his legs deserted him he had sat for so long. Oh crap! he extolled and decided to climb and hang from the cubicle untill the blood flowed back into his legs.

Aram Koopman walked back into the bar dejectedly after the long session on the Small Business resolution. Anger, hatred, sarcasm and rhetoric had all failed to prevent the inevitable, fluffy-inspired defeat. In a final humiliation, the ambassador of some insignificant Peoples Republic had scowled at him and told him to go and drink alone.

"Real men drink alone anyway," he thought to himself grimly as he sat down on a couch in the corner or the bar, grabbing a pink flash from his pocket.

Glutopian ambassador Barter Knot stood in the doorway and glowered disparagingly into the Strangers' Bar. Otterby was the only one who exuded any real class. He tended to present himself as something of a liberal in the debating chamber, but Knot was suspicious of his slavish faith in the 'free market'. Too many of the others looked like downtown second-hand car salesmen. To them, the opportunity for a corrupt business deal or two was probably the sole attraction of UN membership.

"Abassadors, indeed" he thought, "it looks like a crook's birthday party in the worst dive in Canal Street. Talk about seedy!"

He was about to turn on his heel when his eye caught that of a stylish woman in the far left hand corner, whose forced smile indicated some sort of vague moral discomfort with her surroundings. Perhaps she knew something, and she was beautiful enough to talk to even if she didn't.

He entered the bar.

meanwhile Midori Kasigi leaves the bar taking her glass of beer with her and locating a free pool table.

she racks up a frame and decides to get some practice in, breaking off and scattering all the balls.

Knot walked quickly through the crowd and approached the pool table. He picked up a cue and asked Kasigi for a game. Kasigi shrugged and nodded an unenthusiastic approval.

The ambassador from the nation of scholars soon demonstrated that his youth had not been mis-spent. Kasigi thought his incompetence was kinda sweet and warmed to him.

"You're a greenhorn around here, aren't you?" she said, with an air of mock superiority.

"That's right", replied Knot "and not just at pool. Our small democratic nation has just joined the UN. Lately, we have found ourselves under great ideological pressure from the outside, and pretty soon we must enter into trade relations whether we like it or not. That is complicated by the fact that we have large untapped oil resources".

"This bunch of gangsters who hang around here pretending to be politicians will soon be causing us trouble" he continued. "Tell me, what's the pecking order around here? And who are the nations a small social democracy like ourselves can trust?"

Glutopian ambassador Barter Knot stood in the doorway and glowered disparagingly into the Strangers' Bar. Otterby was the only one who exuded any real class. He tended to present himself as something of a liberal in the debating chamber, but Knot was suspicious of his slavish faith in the 'free market'. Too many of the others looked like downtown second-hand car salesmen. To them, the opportunity for a corrupt business deal or two was probably the sole attraction of UN membership.

"Abassadors, indeed" he thought, "it looks like a crook's birthday party in the worst dive in Canal Street. Talk about seedy!"

He was about to turn on his heel when his eye caught that of a stylish woman in the far left hand corner, whose forced smile indicated some sort of vague moral discomfort with her surroundings. Perhaps she knew something, and she was beautiful enough to talk to even if she didn't.

He entered the bar.

Otterby spotted Knot entering the bar and instantly recognised him as the ambassador for Glutopia. The one he'd been debating against earlier about the merits of trade and the Small Business Classroom resolution. He'd been impressed by Knot's eloquence and persuasive arguing, but he'd still been pleased by the resolution passing. It would almost certainly do a lot of good for the Compadrian economy, which was sputtering and suffering from currency devaluation, high unemployment and a severe trade deficit.

He'd been stung, he remembered, by the accusation by Knot that he was one of the 'Chicago School', God, whatever Knot thought he was a liberal, just a pragmatic one who was trying to do the best possible for his country on the world stage. Anyway, what was wrong with a bit of trade, freer trade for that matter.

He decided that he'd offer Knot a drink, a toast to his spirited arguing earlier in the debate chamber. He wondered what was the ambassador's favoured tipple.

Otterby approached the pool table and offered Knot and Kasigi a drink.

Knot accepted, and asked for his usual large Laphroaig.

Kasigi didn't seem phased by Otterby, so this indicated to Knot that he might be OK, although the natural Glutopian suspicion of the outside world could not be entirely cast aside.

"Economic problems yourself, eh?" said Knot. "Whatever you have, we'll get soon because we're being sucked into globalisation like everyone else, no matter how hard we resist."

Knot asked Otterby the same question that he'd asked Kasigi. Who can a social democrat trust around here?

the young woman replies "for starters the Kirisuban ambassador. i'm his assistant and he was debating against the last vote as well.

we haven't been round here long ourselves Barter san" she replies reading the ambassadors name of his pass, "i'm Midori. Kasigi is my family name"

she lines up a long pot and mutters when the 4 ball jams in the jars of the pocket.

"your turn i believe" she says sweetly

she turns to Otterby and says "domo Otterby san for the drink. a refill will be nice"

Aram leaned forward whilst cradling his drink. With a contemplative frown he quietly listened in on the conversation Otterby was having with the Glutopians from a distance.

Otterby approached the pool table and offered Knot and Kasigi a drink.

Knot accepted, and asked for his usual large Laphroaig.

Kasigi didn't seem phased by Otterby, so this indicated to Knot that he might be OK, although the natural Glutopian suspicion of the outside world could not be entirely cast aside.

"Economic problems yourself, eh?" said Knot. "Whatever you have, we'll get soon because we're being sucked into globalisation like everyone else, no matter how hard we resist."

Knot asked Otterby the same question that he'd asked Kasigi. Who can a social democrat trust around here?

"What can you trust eh", Otterby replied, taking a sip from his customary Guinness, "well I'd say that any resolution dealing with the economic well-being of workers and consumers is usually proposed by those of a social-democratic nature and can be trusted upon to conform to our ideals. Equally, environmental and social law proposals usually follow the same pattern. The dodgy areas (if you can call them that) are the ones associated with free-trade and economics. I know you think I'm some kind of rabid economist obsessed with free trade and open markets. But I'm not entirely enslaved by the 'dark side'. I put in the anti-trust clause for the Automobile Free Trade Area. I supported the

The Transgender Equality Act

The Sex Education Act

UNCoESB

Adoption and IVF Rights

Labelling Standards

Fossil Fuel Reduction Act

Worldwide Media Act

Diplomatic Immunity

Representation in Taxation

Global Food Distribution Act

(he listed)

And I worked hard to try and shut down the arguments against the 48 hour week. It's not that I don't support these things, it's just that I view them as esential to the good operations of the world economy.

If you want people to trust, go for Ecopoeia, Love and Esterel, Venerable Libertarians, The Black New World, Mikitivity, those are among the best of the bunch when it comes to a progressive agenda. There's others, but those are the ones with the highest profile if you will.

Oh and Knootoss is a good chap, even if he is a little in thrall of Friedman economics.

Anyway, what do you think's going to happen to Glutopia as a result of being in the U.N."?

Aram leaned forward whilst cradling his drink...

Rose approached Aram.

"So the guy I was with sort of disappeared into the bathroom. Do you want me to get your next drink? You look like a girl sat here on your own."

while Midori watches Barter contemplating his next shot she says to Otterby "I've seen your name come up a lot while doing my ambassadors research. he's always had respect for you even although he occasionally disagrees with your viewpoints"

she drinks some more of her lager and puts the glass back down on a ledge.

"What can you trust eh", Otterby replied, taking a sip from his customary Guinness, "well I'd say that any resolution dealing with the economic well-being of workers and consumers is usually proposed by those of a social-democratic nature and can be trusted upon to conform to our ideals. Equally, environmental and social law proposals usually follow the same pattern. The dodgy areas (if you can call them that) are the ones associated with free-trade and economics. I know you think I'm some kind of rabid economist obsessed with free trade and open markets. But I'm not entirely enslaved by the 'dark side'. I put in the anti-trust clause for the Automobile Free Trade Area. I supported the

The Transgender Equality Act

The Sex Education Act

UNCoESB

Adoption and IVF Rights

Labelling Standards

Fossil Fuel Reduction Act

Worldwide Media Act

Diplomatic Immunity

Representation in Taxation

Global Food Distribution Act

(he listed)

And I worked hard to try and shut down the arguments against the 48 hour week. It's not that I don't support these things, it's just that I view them as esential to the good operations of the world economy.

If you want people to trust, go for Ecopoeia, Love and Esterel, Venerable Libertarians, The Black New World, Mikitivity, those are among the best of the bunch when it comes to a progressive agenda. There's others, but those are the ones with the highest profile if you will.

Oh and Knootoss is a good chap, even if he is a little in thrall of Friedman economics.

Anyway, what do you think's going to happen to Glutopia as a result of being in the U.N."?

"OK, Ambassador Otterby, no need to overdo it. I got you wrong, by the looks of it. Forgive me, we are a small independent social democracy, whose suspicion of the global 'free' market, as a 'race to the bottom' with powerful nations and corporations super-exploiting developing nations and out-competing manufacturing and driving down wages in nations such as ours, tends to be a little paranoid at times. And thanks for tips about friendly nations. I'll make a note of that for the future".

"I hope that partly answers your question. To a large extent we are here to protect ourselves as much as prosper. If we are to be sucked into globalisation, we want to know who our friends are."

"With that, I must leave you for the present and report back to President Sage. I hope to see you both very soon. Goodnight"

Knot smiled at Midori, who seemed to be disappointed that he had to leave so early. Or perhaps that was just Knot being optimistic.

As Knot turned to leave, he caught Aram Knootoss' unconcealed glare. He wondered if Otterby was right about this rather hard-bitten character.

while Midori watches Barter contemplating his next shot she says to Otterby "I've seen your name come up a lot while doing my ambassadors research. he's always had respect for you even although he occasionally disagrees with your viewpoints"

she drinks some more of her lager and puts the glass back down on a ledge.

"Why I thank him for the compliment", Otterby remarked, "I'm glad to hear that my infamy has gained admirers. I suppose I would say the same about your ambassador, a good fellow, though I do occasionally disagree with him on some points of principal."

"Anyway, you seem a charming young lady, mind if I buy you a drink?"

"thank you Otterby san" Midori replies "another lager would be nice".

she then walks round the table and bounces the cue ball of 3 cushions so it pots the jammed 4 ball indirectly.

Sir Edmund Allinvane strides puposefully to the bar.
"Threaten US, will they?" he is mumbling.
"Ah, yes. A pint of Balsack Premium, if you will. What's that? No Balsack Beers? Bloody hell. Alright; give me a glass of your best."

The bartender draughts a hearty stout into a thick pint glass. Something called Hearty and Hempy. Allinvane takes a full draw and swallows hard.

"Hmmm, a mysteriously familiar taste," he comments, "although I can't quite put my finger on it."

The Balsack Minister returns to his grumbling, "I'll not be threatened by some bloody terrorists. Not a Balsackian! No; it shall not stand! Regardless of what I said on the floor in the chamber. . . . Hey! This ale is pretty good! (He gulps another mouthful) what was I talking about, again?"

"Excuse me, bartender; have you anything to eat?" Sir Edmund inquires.

Kaigan notices the newcomer and says to him "they can cook almost anything here. the pizza is quite good although" as he looks up from his glass of beer.

then it hits him who he's talking too.

"Sir Edmund, i'm pleased to meet you informally. My name is Captain Kaigan Miromuta, the Kirisuban ambassador"

Aram had snorted a little as he overheard the conversation of Knot and Otterby. Some could hear him muttering "fluffies" as he moved one of his arms under the table as if to fetch something lying on the floor.

Rose approached Aram.

"So the guy I was with sort of disappeared into the bathroom. Do you want me to get your next drink? You look like a girl sat here on your own."

Aram Koopman abruptly turned his head as Rose began to talk - almost as if he had been caught doing something. The burning anger in his eyes melted away, however, as he recognised her.

"No thank you", he said politely with a light Dutch accent. If Rose had been there, she might have noticed that Arams imperious tirades in the General Assembly had been delivered almost universally with a somewhat British-accented tongue, as was the custom of Knootian diplomats abroad.

"It embarrasses me to say it, but I still have some drinks which I brought with me", Aram continued a little hesitantly after a moments silence. She couldn't help but notice that the Knootian cast a quick glance at a bag under the table.

"... but maybe I can offer you a drink, though?" he continued with a half-hearted smile.

Kaigan notices the newcomer and says to him "they can cook almost anything here. the pizza is quite good although" as he looks up from his glass of beer.

then it hits him who he's talking too.

"Sir Edmund, i'm pleased to meet you informally. My name is Captain Kaigan Miromuta, the Kirisuban ambassador"

"Ah, yes; Miromuta. I remember you. We met at some. . .thing somewhere, didn't we?"

Sir Edmund took another mouthful of the increasingly tasty beer and giggled just a little.

"Oh, sorry there, Captain. For some reason I'm feeling downright giddy. By the way, have you tried this Hearty and Hempy Ale? It keeps tasting better with each swallow. Although, it's got a flavor that is somewhat familiar, but I'll be bleeding hornswaggled if I can quite put my finger on it."

"Anyway, sorry if my grumbling bothered you. I'm in a bit of a stew over this Optischer business, you know. Bloody terrorists is all they are."

Kaigan smiles and says "i'll give that a try then" and orders a glass of ale.

while he waits for it to be poured he adds "theres so many debates and discussions. we all need to come here sometimes to relax.

I honestly think the ambassador from Optischer will soon find himself expelled if he keeps this up. Personally I think the days of dumping criminals and undesirables overseas should have been ended long ago"

Sampling his ale the oriental ambassador nods approvingly and says "this is good stuff"

"Right you are. The Blighters threatened to disappear some of our citizens' body parts if we didn't conform to their views on genetic engineering," Sir Edmund growled, "I'd like to give them a little genetic engineering up their buttocks, if you catch my meaning. Hmmmm, that didn't come out exactly as I meant it," Allinvane burst out into uncontrollable laughter.

After settling down, the diplomat wiped his handle-bar mustache and ordered another pint.

"Have I mentioned how good this Hempty and Meaty Ale is?" Again he burst into laughter. "I said Hempty and Meaty (chuckle) I meant to say Hempty and Meaty," he slurred, "I mean Humpdy and Meaty."

Again, his bellowing laugh filled the room. Then, with a soft sigh, he asked, "Say, what IS this delightful flavor, anyway?"

Kaigan drinks more of his ale and says "i've a pair of razor sharp swords in my office that could do quite a bit of organ re-arangement.

However the security people got a little nervous when they found out they had a pair of Samurai-officers arriving here. Until my government increases our UN budget it'll just be Ms Midori Kasigi and myself here"

Kaigan ponders the question of the taste of the beer and comes up none the wiser..

"It seems to me that a couple of Samurai wouldn't be a bad idea, considering the manners of some of these delegates. Maybe a couple of Ninja, too. I can think of one delegate who could do with a good karate chop to the throat."

Lord Allinvane takes another swallow of ale.

"Hmmm; chops. . . I wonder if they have lamb chops here. I haven't had a good lamb chop since the Boer War. Now there was a good fight. Quite boering, however."

Sir Edmund burst into yet another bout of uncontrollable laughter. Finally calming down, he said, "Perhaps I've had enough of this hemp beer. Tasty stuff, though."

"Say, bartender; would you be so kind as to place an order for a couple of lamb chops and curried rice for me, please? And an espresso."

The bartender scurried off to place the order.

"So, Captain; How have you found your time here at the UN? Anything exciting to report?"

"WHOOP! HELL yeah! I knew I smelled liquor! Barkeep, give me 6 Budweisers."

Mr. Special whips his head from side to side, causing his long, flowing mullet to waft about in a manner reminiscent of a Clydesdales mane. Upon recieving the Budweisers, he proceeds to drink them, one after another, in less than five minutes time.

"This place sure is boring. Where's the jukebox? Play some Zeppelin!"

He orders six more Budweisers and wanders aimlessly about the bar, trying to "borrow" a cigarette from various patrons.

"There's not any of them damned Yeldans in here is there? God I hate those arrogant sons of bitches!"

"Oh bloody hell. Who let that wanker in here?"

"Oh, great! My Lamb chops! Thank you, barkeep."

"Oh bloody hell. Who let that wanker in here?"
Stops in mid-stride, bumping unexpectedly into a shrine of some sort.

"What the hell is that thing? And who called me a wanker? I don't know what a "wanker" is but it sounds bad. And foreign. Our President, Ronnie James Dio, warned me about evil foreign types when he appointed me to this god-forsaken post. I need more beer! Barkeep!"

"Ahem; excuse me, um. . .sir? Have you tried the Hearty and Hempy Ale? It's really quite good. And pay no mind. A Wanker is a good thing."

Sir Edmund finishes his food, pays, and leaves.

"Hearty and Hempy Ale? Never heard of it. Sounds good though, I'll try a pitcher. Hey, we need some tunes! Who want's to hear some tunes? I got a boombox down in the car with some KICK ASS jams in it! I got Ozzy, Motorhead, Mötley Crüe, you name it. I'll go get it!"

He leaves and after a short absence, returns with an enormous boombox, and a beer bong.

Stephanie, momentarily distracted from her examination of her multicoloured acquaintances, noticed Aram.

"Uh... is anyone else worried by the sight of a noted pyromaniac in a room full of flammable liquid? Or have I got ambassadors confused again?"

"This is gonna RAWK!"

He presses the "play" button and Van Halen's And The Cradle Will Rock erupts from the boombox speakers.

"YEAH!"

Grabbing the pitcher of Hearty and Hempy Ale, he fills the beer bong and consumes the entire contents in one gulp.

"Whoa. That stuffs kinda strooo...n...g...."

At this point, he sways momentarily and suddenly collapses, striking the boombox on his way to the floor, knocking himself unconscious. Mercifully, during the course of his fall he also hits the "pause" button.

before Sir Edmund leaves Kaigan replies "i'm enjoying the challenge of my new job. back home i'd be on the general staff of the 3rd defence army and on yet another military exercise"

when he leaves he says "I'll see you back soon i'm sure"


Kaigan then rolls his eyes, stops the tape carries the unconcious ambassador to a nearby padded chair and checks him over for a head wound finding nothing to concern him.

"he'll wake up on his own" he says to Neville and gets back to his ale.

Aram Koopman abruptly turned his head as Rose began to talk - almost as if he had been caught doing something. The burning anger in his eyes melted away, however, as he recognised her.

"No thank you", he said politely with a light Dutch accent. If Rose had been there, she might have noticed that Arams imperious tirades in the General Assembly had been delivered almost universally with a somewhat British-accented tongue, as was the custom of Knootian diplomats abroad.

"It embarrasses me to say it, but I still have some drinks which I brought with me", Aram continued a little hesitantly after a moments silence. She couldn't help but notice that the Knootian cast a quick glance at a bag under the table.

"... but maybe I can offer you a drink, though?" he continued with a half-hearted smile.

"Dutch, eh? I prefer the ones who invented Lego… And I'd rather not have a drink, if it's all the same, especially not after what happened to them lot… What have you got under there, a Tribble?"

The narrator would like to point out that the views expressed by Rose are not her own. Although she probably would rather talk to Lego most of the time.

"Oh, nothing in particular", Aram said with a slight sigh as he kicked the bag a little further under the table.

Knot had finished his mobile phone call to President Sage.

His initial report was mildly pessimistic but not entirely bleak. In this globalising economy, the beleagured forces of social democracy were indeed under attack by psychotic libertarians, anarcho-capitalists, 'free-market' fetishists and other criminal opportunists, but many nations still held social democratic principles in at least some regard.

Knot was in many ways a typical Glutopian. Excruciatingly well-educated, principled, haughty, moralistic and suspicious to the point of paranoia. A Quixotic nation indeed, tilting at the windmill of global change and its increasingly criminal entrepreneurs.

The disdain with which he looked at Allinvane and 'Mr.Special' was tempered by a suspicion that these two must be a lot more than just a blustering, drunken Hooray-Henry and a loud-mouthed heavy metal fan, otherwise they would not be in the position of ambassadors for powerful nations. Nevertheless, Knot's eyes automatically cast themselves skywards at the thought of a nation whose president was called 'Ronnie'. Even Kaigan's barbarous quips about sharp swords and constant allusions to militarism convinced him that he should not reveal all of his thoughts to Midori, sweet though she seemed.

All of these people knew about Glutopia's large (and largely untapped) oil resources, its illegal market in hi-tech arms and the pressure being placed on the small social democracy's economy.

Rose seemed harmless in a crazy sort of way, and Otterby seemed reasonably trustworthy. It was Koopman who bothered Knot. His hard-line anarcho-capitalist and military tendencies were well known in the debating chamber, and why had he been so keen to listen to the conversation by the pool table?

Knot decided to re-enter the bar and sit very quickly on the seat next to Koopman, so quick that he got quite a shock.

Knot interrupted Rose rather rudely and said directly to Koopman "So, that must have been an interesting conversation I was having with Otterby and Midori a little while ago ... and what's in the bag? Playing squash, are we?"

OOC: He has military tendencies? 0_o (Biography, which I think you saw (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Aram_Koopman) - info on Knootoss. (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Knootoss) Free market, yes. Anarcho-whatever, hardly. He doesnt just dislike your economic policies, he dislikes the UN at large. ;)

IC:

"Ah.. ah... wha?", Koopman stuttered somewhat surprised. The barrage of questions meant that he hardly knew what to say first. When he recognised Knot as the ambassador from what he thought of as a the tiny Federalist 'failed nation' however, his tone changed and he recomposed himself.

"I have no idea what you are alluding to, Sir", he said formally, turning his head back to Rose as if to ignore this unpleasant disturbance.

Rose sighed.

"For a politician you are very bad at being subtle."

Aram raised an eyebrow, and turned as if the remark was directed at Knot.

Varia caught Hannah's attention and tilted her head in the direction of the Glutopian.

"You hear him in the Business Classroom debate?"

Hannah shook her head and gestured at the Bar with a guilty smile.

"Let's just say that his commentary would be well received in my region, hmm?"

"Ah."

"Quite. And yet almost his first act upon entering the Bar is to approach the firestarter. One to watch, I reckon."

They supped contemplatively at their drinks. Varia gave her friend an appraising look.

"Navy suits you."

Knot kicked himself when Koopman so effortlessly deflected his rashly direct questioning. Koopman was obviously an old-hand, and Knot assumed that Rose's remark was perhaps an oblique attempt to suggest that Knot would get nowhere with such direct tactics. This was a room full of experienced diplomats, no matter how ornery some of them appeared to be, and Knot was forced to acknowledge his own inexperience. This would not be the last time.

"I apologise profusely" said Knot. "Please allow me to buy you and the lady a drink".

Knot had noticed Varia's approving looks and remembered Otterby's avice that Ecopoeia was a potential ally, and the offer of a drink for Rose and Koopman was partly an excuse to go to the bar and talk to her.

Koopman was experienced enough to guess this, but despite his disinterested look, he still kept his feet tightly around the bag as Knot rose from the seat.

Giordano distracted himself from the wonderful taste of the barlord to inquire after Rose. She was talking to Koopman. Damn. He sat next to Rose and tried to start up some vaguely meaningful conversation. He ended up watching Neville most of the time.

"Old boy," said Rose "you're in love."

"Nonsense!"

"Smitten?" said Rose.

"No, no."

"The tender passion?"

"No."

"Cupid's jolly little darts?"

"No."

"Spring fancies, love's young dream?"

"Nonsense!"

"Not even a quickening of the pulse?"

"No."

"A sweet despair?"

"Certainly not."

"A trembling hope?"

"No."

"A frisson? a Je ne sais quoi?""

"Nothing of the sort."

"Liar!" said Rose

There was another long pause "Rose," said Giordano at length, "I wonder if you can be right… I say! What's that under the table?"

"I say?"

"Sorry are we back in character now?"

[Co-written by Evelyn Waugh… Plagiarise? Me?]

Kaigan's mobile goes off and he says "sorry about this Neville, duty calls"

he speaks in his own language while he drinks his ale between talking to the woman on the other end of the phone line.

Anthony Holt was sitting glumly at the bar, his wedding honeymoon was due to start in two days time, but Otterby had insisted on him staying till the very last minute to help him with administration.

He sipped nonchalantly and after checking to see that Otterby was not around, slipped over to the pay-phone, not too far away from the Otaku shrine and dialled a number quickly.

And instants waiting and then:

"Ah, yes, hello, I'd like to book a flight to Tarkan, Compadria as soon as possible please."

A few minutes later:

"Are you sure that's the price?", Holt asked peevishly.

At that moment he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he saw the grim face of Leonard Otterby, twisted into a terrifying grin.

"You're not going anywhere Anthony, until you finish these notes on the 3rd agricultural sub-committee, Sunday, 27th of November. You hear me?"

"Oh course Mr. Otterby", replied Anthony, thinking at the same time ah, the course of true love never did run smooth., "You'll have it by the evening."

"Good man", Otterby replied and strolled off to the bar for another drink.

Jeremy decided to play a game of pinball, using the machine by the corner.

Rose took one look at Giordano. It was a look filled with disgust and the idea of revenge.

"A pinball machine?"

"I see it."

Rose pushed a blow torch towards Aram. But she didn't see anything.

Mickey Special was sick. Horribly, nauseatingly, gut-wrenchingly sick. In the past eighteen hours, he had consumed twenty-four long-necked Budweisers (six in the strangers bar), a half-pint of Old Crow, a 50 oz. bottle of Thunderbird, a 40 oz. Colt 45 malt liquor, and the pitcher of Hearty and Hempy Ale which sent him, finally, spinning off into oblivion. No food had he eaten. 77 Camaroians don't eat while they are drinking because it "interferes with their drinkin' ". Now, after a troubled and not particularly restful sleep in which he did not dream, he begins to stir.

"Wha...
What the fu...
Hey! Who turned off the tunes? I need a beer!"

He is Risen!

Jeremy had to keep tilting the machine, in order to score points on the game which was a vintage Star Wars pinball machine.

Kaigan now finished his call sees Otterby return to the bar.

after tucking his mobile phone into his belt sash he says "Ambassdor Otterby, at last we meet outside UN business. May I get you a drink?.

Kaigan Miromuta, the Ambassador from Kirisubo"

Kaigan now finished his call sees Otterby return to the bar.

after tucking his mobile phone into his belt sash he says "Ambassdor Otterby, at last we meet outside UN business. May I get you a drink?.

Kaigan Miromuta, the Ambassador from Kirisubo"

"Why that would be simply splendid," Otterby replied, charmed by Mr Miromuta's courteousy. "I'd quite like a Guinness 39 please, from the tap".

Kaigan orders and pays for the Guinness 39 with few Oban coins, the head of a fox dressed like a samurai on one side and a large '1' in roman letters on the reverse side.

He hands Leonard the Guinness and shrugs his shoulders saying "we don't seem to get that much time to enjoy ourselves. If we're not working in our offices we're debating something in the chamber"

"Let's just say that his commentary would be well received in my region, hmm?"

Knot was embarrassed that he had shown his inexperience in front of Rose and Koopman. Absorbed in his embarrassment, he forgot about the bag under Koopman's table.

He headed to the bar and nodded to Varia in his usual stiff and nervous way.

"So, tell me about your region, do you have plans to resist the global dominance of the so-called 'free-market?" he said, kicking himself almost immediately that he had forgotten yet again to go through the expected niceties. Sometimes it was hard being a Glutopian. And being a novice diplomat made it even worse. ".... errr .... errr .... after I have first bought you both a drink. What'll you have?"

Byrons legs finally after what seemed like hours strapped in an acupuncturists dungeon of pain, were back in action. He looked in the mirror in the Bathroom and straightened up his tie, Put on his Black Nehru styled Jacket and looked remarkably fresh for a man who had sat for two days on a toilet reading a novel, and hung on the cubicle for four hours.
I need a Drink, Some good food and some good company he thought to himself as he strolled back into the main bar. On entering the Bar he first noticed Aram Koopman, Rose, Giordano, Otterby and the Kirisuboan Delegate. An interesting mix of people he thought and decided to join them.
On his way over he caught the eye of the beautiful Voilet Bracket, now snowed under with work as it seemed Neville had been shocked into some state of barmans confusion by the amourous Giordano. As neville seemed to fuss and fluster about Violet was taking the strain so to speak as orders for food and libation flooded to her by the thirsty and hungry barflies. She smiled gently at Byron, the horrific eposode with the cat now forgiven, and stopping all serving she asked "same again?" "Yes Please Violet" replied Byron "and perhaps i could get a drink for my company?" "No Problem Esheram" she Replied with a smile.
Byron turned to the group of People sitting around Aram. " Drinks are on the way! so whats been happening while I was away?"

Lynx Raven Raide, the leader for The Lynx Alliance and UN Ambassador walks up to the bar.

"Ten Quick F's please, Bartender!"

after drinking the shots, he staggers out of the bar and slumps in the gutter. the rest of the patrons look equally amused and put off by this....

Kaigan orders and pays for the Guinness 39 with few Oban coins, the head of a fox dressed like a samurai on one side and a large '1' in roman letters on the reverse side.

He hands Leonard the Guinness and shrugs his shoulders saying "we don't seem to get that much time to enjoy ourselves. If we're not working in our offices we're debating something in the chamber"

"I know", Otterby replied nodding, "I sometimes feel as if I'm being deluged with paperwork and debates and it can really get very tiring. But why else did I join the U.N. team anyway, the hard work is part of the job. Still, you've got a good point".


Byrons legs finally after what seemed like hours strapped in an acupuncturists dungeon of pain, were back in action. He looked in the mirror in the Bathroom and straightened up his tie, Put on his Black Nehru styled Jacket and looked remarkably fresh for a man who had sat for two days on a toilet reading a novel, and hung on the cubicle for four hours.
I need a Drink, Some good food and some good company he thought to himself as he strolled back into the main bar. On entering the Bar he first noticed Aram Koopman, Rose, Giordano, Otterby and the Kirisuboan Delegate. An interesting mix of people he thought and decided to join them.
On his way over he caught the eye of the beautiful Voilet Bracket, now snowed under with work as it seemed Neville had been shocked into some state of barmans confusion by the amourous Giordano. As neville seemed to fuss and fluster about Violet was taking the strain so to speak as orders for food and libation flooded to her by the thirsty and hungry barflies. She smiled gently at Byron, the horrific eposode with the cat now forgiven, and stopping all serving she asked "same again?" "Yes Please Violet" replied Byron "and perhaps i could get a drink for my company?" "No Problem Esheram" she Replied with a smile.
Byron turned to the group of People sitting around Aram. " Drinks are on the way! so whats been happening while I was away?"

"Ah Byron, good to see you, well I was just talking to my friend Kaigan (you don't mind if I call you that do you?) here about the pressures of work at the U.N. What do you reckon? Are we over-worked by our national governments?"

"i prefer Kaigan anyway" Kaigan replies and starts on a Guinness 39, "i never really liked titles. I'm used to the work but its harder when all you have is one assistant.

I couldn't manage without Midori. She keeps me organised"

"Ah Byron, good to see you, well I was just talking to my friend Kaigan (you don't mind if I call you that do you?) here about the pressures of work at the U.N. What do you reckon? Are we over-worked by our national governments?"Well honestly and speaking on a personal level no! You see his Majesty, King James of the VL has basically decided international diplomacy is where it is at and has ensured we have a huge Budget to develop and grow international friendships. I have a Huge staff who ensure all my time is taken up with interacting with other Delegations and entertaining them. That is why you will often see me purchasing a nights drink for the entire members of the Bar on the Realms Tab. In fact, Neville could say otherwise but i think its the largest tab here in the bar for any Regions Delegation to the UN. Other than that it also gives me more time to debate in the General Assembly where I tend to be selective of what i will comment on.
So to summarise no i am not overworked here in the UN and i have plenty of time to read a good or bad novel whilst sitting in a quiet place. :D
I do however have a question for you Leonard? why is Holt still here? Is he not due to be wed soon? If you wish i will get some of my staff to assist him so he may get away sooner?

"i prefer Kaigan anyway" Kaigan replies and starts on a Guinness 39, "i never really liked titles. I'm used to the work but its harder when all you have is one assistant.

I couldn't manage without Midori. She keeps me organised"
We are indeed lucky Kaigan san. My personal Assisant, Sophia Grey, has become invaluable to me. I would be lost if she left.

Sir Cyril entered the bar and looked around. One ambassador was slumped in a gutter, another was playing pinball. So, nothing particularly unusual. He strided up to the bar and ordered a double of the Wellington XO. He did the conversion in his head, and as he payed he exclaimed

"Outrageous! Four shillings and ninepence-halfpenny for a brandy. Why, back in Port Sir Richard, you can get a bottle of the stuff for twenty shillings!"

Angelina enters the bar once again, conspicuously without her guards.

She sits down at the table and orders a Long Island Iced Tea, and waits for Kaigan to get free.

"we certainly are Byron san" Kaigan replies and notices Angelina arriving in.

He waves over to her and beckons to her to join them.

###

meanwhle on the pool table Midori continues to practice her double shots content with life.

Sir Cyril entered the bar and looked around. One ambassador was slumped in a gutter, another was playing pinball. So, nothing particularly unusual. He strided up to the bar and ordered a double of the Wellington XO. He did the conversion in his head, and as he payed he exclaimed

"Outrageous! Four shillings and ninepence-halfpenny for a brandy. Why, back in Port Sir Richard, you can get a bottle of the stuff for twenty shillings!"
Byron winked at a confused looking Violet and jumped in. "Why Sir Cyril, Won't you join us and let me and the Realm Pick up the cost of your drink? It would be My pleasure if you would Join us?" In Fact, let all tonights drink be covered by His Majesty, King James' Benevolence. A toast to His Majesty's Good Health!

Angelina walks over with her drink and joins Kaigan and crew.

"Kaigan, where are your manners? Introduce us."

Stephanie decided to steadfastly ignore Aram. At least until he started another fire. Instead, she decided to introduce Hannah to some of the newer patrons of the Bar.

"Hannah, this is Prince Esheram Byron of Venerable Libertarians, and the Kingdom of Hibernia... have I got that right? Byron, this is my new assistant, and former Chairwoman of Enn, Hannah Sikura. She's currently navy blue as a result of a rather strange drink Neville served up."

"fellow ambasadors may i introduce Princess Angelina Gallo, the ambassador from the nation of Galloism.

Angelina, may i introduce Byron san from Venerable Libertarians, Leonard Otterby from Compadria and Sir Cyril from Cobdenia."

Byron bowed as international VL protocol directed and he first took Hannah's hand and kissed it followed by Princess Angela's. The pleasure is mine and may i get you ladies a drink? perhaps one that does not irritate the pigment?
Addressing Stephanie he replied, "Nearly. But if you wish to be exact I am actually from the Hibernian Principality of Templar Crusaders, Representing the Region of the Realm of Hibernia as nominated Delegate and Chief negotiator for the Delegation of the Realm to the UN By his majesty King James the first, King of the Venerable Libertarians and Benevolent Overlord of the Region of the Realm of Hibernia." Byron laughed at lady Stephanies stunned look and commented, "It can be troublesome to have printed on my Diplomatic Business card."

"Why thankyou, Your Highness, it would be a pleasure"

He walked up to the amassed group:

"I say, how about a game of Mornington Crescent? I'll go first"

He pondered for a second

"Stepney Green"

"Oh, and we're playing the Cobblethorpes 1960 Beeching execution variant"

"That," Stephanie muttered to Hannah, "is why most of us just call him Byron. Saves a lot of time.
"Byron, I'll have my usual Ennish Shandy."

Hannah, on the other hand, decided to keep up the blueness. "A Bahgumnian Blue Brandy for myself. I'm so glad Neville stocked up on the drop before the disappearance of Bahgum."

"Why thankyou, Your Highness, it would be a pleasure"

He walked up to the amassed group:

"I say, how about a game of Mornington Crescent? I'll go first"

He pondered for a second

"Stepney Green"

"Oh, and we're playing the Cobblethorpes 1960 Beeching execution variant"

"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with this game. What are the rules?"

"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with this game. What are the rules?"
Im not entirely confidant that even Sir Cyril Knows. :D

"You'll pick them up as you go along", claimed Sir Cyril

"Now, Stepney Green!"

"You'll pick them up as you go along", claimed Sir Cyril

"Now, Stepney Green!"

Angelina pauses for a moment, thinking about this game.

She immediately tackles Sir Cyril and proclaims "3 points!"

"No, no, no! Basically, the object of the game is to say the name of an Underground station or street in London. The first person to say Mornington Crescent wins; there are more rules such as when you can say the name of certain stations, and which stations you are allowed to say after the first station, that sought of thing. But you'll pick it up..."

Noting no change in his compatriot, the dragon spies a cinnamon pastry beneath the bar. Reaching his long, forked tongue into the case, he deftly removes one of the pastries without touching any others. Then, he samples its flavor. A bit sweet for him, but...it'll do. He gulps it down.

Under the auspices of his daintiness spell, his metabolism cranks up into high gear. In two minutes time, he is completely ready.

::GURGLE::

...and everything within 50 feet smells just like a fresh, delicious cinnamon pastery.

Mr. Special notices the dragon for the first time.

"Whoa, a dragon! Cool. So that's what Hearty and Hempy Ale does for ya? Gimmee another pitcher!"

Byron bowed as international VL protocol directed and he first took Hannah's hand and kissed it followed by Princess Angela's. The pleasure is mine and may i get you ladies a drink? perhaps one that does not irritate the pigment?
"Old boy…" said Giordano

"Don't even start…'

Knot was embarrassed that he had shown his inexperience in front of Rose and Koopman. Absorbed in his embarrassment, he forgot about the bag under Koopman's table.

He headed to the bar and nodded to Varia in his usual stiff and nervous way.

"So, tell me about your region, do you have plans to resist the global dominance of the so-called 'free-market?" he said, kicking himself almost immediately that he had forgotten yet again to go through the expected niceties. Sometimes it was hard being a Glutopian. And being a novice diplomat made it even worse. ".... errr .... errr .... after I have first bought you both a drink. What'll you have?"
Varia was somewhat taken aback by the blunt manner of the Glutopian's introduction and felt the distinct sensation of having been ambushed when Hannah was whisked away by her compatriot.

"Ah... well, I think I've had quite enough of this," she said, indicating the drink that brought an alarming magenta hue to her complexion. "Um, Ecopoeia is renowned - in the Strangers' Bar, at least - for its single malts. A Glenpincoe (http://diden.net/~maga/images/glenpincoe.jpg) would be lovely, please. I couldn't help but hear you mention Laphroaig in the debating chamber; perhaps you might like to try a wee dram of our very own Coille Dubh? It's a little too peaty for me, but might appeal to your tastes."

As usual, Knot froze nervously, seeming to go into a momentary trance while his mind tried to process the unfamiliar rituals of social intercourse. He was much happier in a university library and spectacularly competent in a formal debating chamber, but his feel for the social side of of life was as undeveloped as Koopman's grasp of global economics.

"Oh .... errr .... yes ... right" he said, quickly plunging his hand in his pocket as the solution to his problem made its delayed entry into his consciousness.

"That'll be one Glencinpoe ... errr ... I mean Glenpincoe, and one Coille Dubh".

Knot tried to give 'Coille Dubh' a Celtic inflection, but failed miserably and blushed at Varia's giggle.

"And make 'em large ones" he said, with a Humphrey Bogart impression that sounded more like Jerry Lewis. "Errr ...... please".

"Very nice" he said "more like a Lagavulin than a Laphroig, sharper and more woody; less peaty but very nice all the same".

"tell me, do you have many peat bogs back home?" A look of total despair permeated Knot's face. Of all the clumsy things he had said to people, that ranked pretty high.

"Old boy…" said Giordano

"Don't even start…'

"Don't worry Giordano. I can handle this."

Angelina turned towards Byron and waved her hand in front of his face.

"You don't want to hit on me."

She paused for another moment and then added, while waving again,

"You want to jump off the roof of the Stranger's Bar."

Kaigan chuckles and drinks more of his guinness 39 while he tries to work out the rules himself and what Angelina is up to..

snip *Adaine walked up to Knot and Varia* "a coille duhn?" * he said in correct Gaelic looking at Knot's drink, "I'll have one too." * downed it in one go* "so, how are you? nice weather were having" * he said with out his grey eyes moving from Knot's face amused*

A gait, once familiar to many, announced the return of Hodgelett as she glanced suspiciously over her shoulder for her secretary, hoping fervently that he was not following her, and wandered across the Strangers' Bar towards the bar itself.
She sat down gratefully on a stool and went to turn her gadget off..."I think I've managed to have all my colleagues thinking I'm busy with someone else in a pretty knot, so I'll have a couple of hours to unw...good grief!" she broke off as she lifted her head.
After a momentary pause she tried to draw the most logical conclusion. "Well, I seem to have come in the middle of fancy dress party or something, I do apologise but I obviously didn't receive the memo, must be somewhere under all my superflous papers. What exactly is the cause the magenta and navy is celebrating? Oh and where did you get that face-paint - there's a nation that says its dangerous for foreigners to visit as they stick out too much unless they often paint themselves orange, and that looks like it would do just the job, in a different colour of course."
She paused for breath. "I must be trying to fit a week's gossip in one hour, my time to stop talking, and start drinking, a coconut rum with pineapple and cranberry please Neville."

As usual, Knot froze nervously, seeming to go into a momentary trance while his mind tried to process the unfamiliar rituals of social intercourse. He was much happier in a university library and spectacularly competent in a formal debating chamber, but his feel for the social side of of life was as undeveloped as Koopman's grasp of global economics.

"Oh .... errr .... yes ... right" he said, quickly plunging his hand in his pocket as the solution to his problem made its delayed entry into his consciousness.

"That'll be one Glencinpoe ... errr ... I mean Glenpincoe, and one Coille Dubh".

Knot tried to give 'Coille Dubh' a Celtic inflection, but failed miserably and blushed at Varia's giggle.

"And make 'em large ones" he said, with a Humphrey Bogart impression that sounded more like Jerry Lewis. "Errr ...... please".

"Very nice" he said "more like a Lagavulin than a Laphroig, sharper and more woody; less peaty but very nice all the same".

"tell me, do you have many peat bogs back home?" A look of total despair permeated Knot's face. Of all the clumsy things he had said to people, that ranked pretty high.
Varia inwardly cringed in sympathy with the hapless Glutopian and supped at the Glenpincoe while composing herself. She licked tingling lips and allowed herslef a slight smile of appreciation as the soft spirit slowly warmed her.

"Ah, our peat bogs are restricted to the south-western regions of the main island, Viriditas. Coille Dubh is prized for its unique character; most whisky we produce is closer in character to, ah, Highland and Speyside malts. Glenpincoe is very soft, slightly sweet - like a Glenmorangie, perhaps. It's not our best by any means but it's good for when you want something gentle."

The Glutopian seemed to settle a little while she talked. Clearly he's on firmer ground when discussing whisky, she thought.

At this point Adaine sidled up to the Bar. Varia found herself, again, taken aback by an abrupt greeting. Knot seemed to withdraw a little at the new arrival's wry grin; she frowned and decided to intervene.

"Well pronounced, Adaine, certainly better than I could manage. I'm afraid that whisky producing is very much the preserve of the Ochayeopoeians of southern Viriditas. My knowledge is pretty limited, other than knowing that I like the stuff; my deputy, Mathieu Vergniaud, knows next to nothing."

----------------

OOC: some background may be helpful. Wiki entries:

Varia Yefremova (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Varia_Yefremova)
Mathieu Vergniaud (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Mathieu_Vergniaud)
Ecopoeia (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Ecopoeia)

*waves shyly*

Hello, I am painfully new here, but perhaps too eager to dive in headfirst (perhaps a product of not having slept for nearly 24 hours)...


*sits back and watches the scene play out*

*Adaine walked up to Knot and Varia* "a coille duhn?" * he said in correct Gaelic looking at Knot's drink, "I'll have one too." * downed it in one go* "so, how are you? nice weather were having" * he said with out his grey eyes moving from Knot's face amused*

"Very well, thank you" said Knot.

"And yourself".

Good heavens, thought Knot, I'm getting the hang of this social stuff.

"And which proud nation do you represent?"

Varia inwardly cringed in sympathy with the hapless Glutopian and supped at the Glenpincoe while composing herself. She licked tingling lips and allowed herslef a slight smile of appreciation as the soft spirit slowly warmed her.

"Ah, our peat bogs are restricted to the south-western regions of the main island, Viriditas. Coille Dubh is prized for its unique character; most whisky we produce is closer in character to, ah, Highland and Speyside malts. Glenpincoe is very soft, slightly sweet - like a Glenmorangie, perhaps. It's not our best by any means but it's good for when you want something gentle."

The Glutopian seemed to settle a little while she talked. Clearly he's on firmer ground when discussing whisky, she thought.

At this point Adaine sidled up to the Bar. Varia found herself, again, taken aback by an abrupt greeting. Knot seemed to withdraw a little at the new arrival's wry grin; she frowned and decided to intervene.

"Well pronounced, Adaine, certainly better than I could manage. I'm afraid that whisky producing is very much the preserve of the Ochayeopoeians of southern Viriditas. My knowledge is pretty limited, other than knowing that I like the stuff; my deputy, Mathieu Vergniaud, knows next to nothing."

"Ah yes", replied Knot, delving into his memory.

"Your good self and Mr. Vergniaud served together as delegates for the Anticapitalist Alliance. How are the fortunes of the alliance these days?"

"Your good self and Mr. Vergniaud served together as delegates for the Anticapitalist Alliance. How are the fortunes of the alliance these days?"
Giordano, never one to let a bad joke pass by, answered for Varia.

"Shared equally amongst all members."

Giordano, never one to let a bad joke pass by, answered for Varia.

"Shared equally amongst all members."

:) And the same for its troubles?

*i sit down calmly when suddenly a man enters the room* -What is it? i ask
*the man wispers something in my ear*
-Do nothing for now,i say
*the man salutes me and leaves the room. i take a sip if my brandy*
-Do you play chess? i ask the man next to me.
-No actually i dont. He says
-Well good for you Neither do i... would you like to play a round of chess with me?
-No thank you im really bad at chess.
-Ok well thanks anyway. would you like a drink? (i say with a bit of sadness in my words)
-No thank you
-Ok im am getting tired of you. *i wave my hand and two men enters the room. they grab him and leave the room. i drink whats left of my brandy and breaths afterwards. i stand up and leave the room*
THE END

Jeremy of Cybertoria started downing glass after glass of moonshine.

Jeremy of Cybertoria started downing glass after glass of moonshine.
"Moonshine? You mean corn likker? You got moonshine in here?"

Mr. Special proceeds to drink moonshine straight from the jug.

"Just like Granpappy used to make!"

Kaigan chuckles and drinks more of his guinness 39 while he tries to work out the rules himself and what Angelina is up to..

(OOC: Jedi Mind Trick. Even Dark Jedi must amuse themselves sometimes.)

:) And the same for its troubles?
Varia paused for thought. Perhaps diplomacy is called for here...

"Um, well, mostly. Though my workload has lessened considerably since we completed our second term. It seems that many of the original 'powers' - for want of a better term - have stepped aside... ah, grown introspective, shall we say? The likes of Ecopoeia have expanded their influence to fill the void."

She sighed. "Nowadays it seems that Ecopoeia is the only Alliance nation to participate in the UN forum debates. I'm sure there are are some East Hackney diplomats somewhere. Drunk on Comrade Morgan's (http://diden.net/~maga/images/oldhackney.jpg), no doubt. Other than that, the ACA's influence in the UN is historical: The Rights of Labor Unions (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/The_Rights_of_Labor_Unions), Reduce Black Market Arms Sales and The 40 Hour Workweek (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/The_40_Hour_Workweek) were the product of our work. Well, in connection with affiliated anticapitalist organisations. There's also Freedom of Conscience (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Freedom_of_Conscience), our own contribution." Varia blushed slightly, though her magenta complexion obscured her embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I feel that I'm bragging. Tell me about Glutopia."

"Incidentally," Otterby proclaimed to no-one in particular, "has anyone seen where Anthony's gone, I was rather beastly to him earlier and I was going to say sorry."

He looked decidedly forlorn.

"No-one?" He repeated.

"I'll by the first person to tell me whichever drink they choose, with a side-order of whatever snack they would prefer", he said, hastily looking to bribery for an answer to his problem.

Varia paused for thought. Perhaps diplomacy is called for here...

"Um, well, mostly. Though my workload has lessened considerably since we completed our second term. It seems that many of the original 'powers' - for want of a better term - have stepped aside... ah, grown introspective, shall we say? The likes of Ecopoeia have expanded their influence to fill the void."

She sighed. "Nowadays it seems that Ecopoeia is the only Alliance nation to participate in the UN forum debates. I'm sure there are are some East Hackney diplomats somewhere. Drunk on Comrade Morgan's (http://diden.net/~maga/images/oldhackney.jpg), no doubt. Other than that, the ACA's influence in the UN is historical: The Rights of Labor Unions (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/The_Rights_of_Labor_Unions), Reduce Black Market Arms Sales and The 40 Hour Workweek (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/The_40_Hour_Workweek) were the product of our work. Well, in connection with affiliated anticapitalist organisations. There's also Freedom of Conscience (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Freedom_of_Conscience), our own contribution." Varia blushed slightly, though her magenta complexion obscured her embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I feel that I'm bragging. Tell me about Glutopia."

"Oh well" replied Knot "Glutopia isolated itself from the world a long while ago, resisting globalisation and escaping the wars and occupations during the era of oil depletion. With a temperated climate, diverse natural resources and a relatively small and very well-educated population, we tried to establish 'a social democracy in one country'. We have grown accustomed to our stability and moderate wealth, so it is not economic difficulties which have made our population restless for change and contact with the outside world; it's more - how can I put it - loneliness and curiosity, I suppose. Perhaps our people are tired of cycling back and forward to universities and craft workshops. We established some minimal trading links and business innovation, and now, with our young people fixated on the glitzy images of consumerism, we feel pressure to join the global village - or perhaps the global viper's nest would be more appropriate."

"Could it be that Glutopians are .... well .....how can I put this? ... bored?"

"Good evening Otterby. Please join us."

"Oh well" replied Knot "Glutopia isolated itself from the world a long while ago, resisting globalisation and escaping the wars and occupations during the era of oil depletion. With a temperated climate, diverse natural resources and a relatively small and very well-educated population, we tried to establish 'a social democracy in one country'. We have grown accustomed to our stability and moderate wealth, so it is not economic difficulties which have made our population restless for change and contact with the outside world; it's more - how can I put it - loneliness and curiosity, I suppose. Perhaps our people are tired of cycling back and forward to universities and craft workshops. We established some minimal trading links and business innovation, and now, with our young people fixated on the glitzy images of consumerism, we feel pressure to join the global village - or perhaps the global viper's nest would be more appropriate."

"Could it be that Glutopians are .... well .....how can I put this? ... bored?"

"Good evening Otterby. Please join us."

"With pleasure Knot," replied Otterby, "you wouldn't happened to have seen Holt anywhere would you"?

((Roses sudden dialogue interjection threw me off a bit so I am not so sure how to place Aram at the moment. I'll just try and muddle through supposing that you are all sitting about as you were.))

"I'll have a Pink Bunny Cola I suppose", Aram had said with a quiet nod when Knot had made the offer of a drink. He wasn't sure at all sure that the Glutopian had actually understood him though, seeing as he had walked away to the bar without saying anything and was now busily engaging in conversation.Then suddenly Rose had turned away from him to talk to Giordano; a conversation he had looked at with one eyebrow firmly raised.

Prince Byron seemed to be more interesting, merry figure. Usually such merry-making would annoy the Knootian and indeed as the introductions were made he just sat quietly at the table. The drinks offered, however, had loosened his tongue a bit and he almost eagerly participated in the toast to His Majesties health.

"Incidently," he said, raising his voice when there was a moment of quiet in the group at large, "My government is planning to give me with some sort of sidekick junior ambassador". He looked around with a mysantropic grin. "A lady apparently. It is just my rotten luck that they have to be sending some sort of intern to babysit the office."

Neville, how much would it cost to rent out part of the bar for an ocasion?

((Roses sudden dialogue interjection threw me off a bit so I am not so sure how to place Aram at the moment. I'll just try and muddle through supposing that you are all sitting about as you were.))

OOC: Sorry. Gi came to sit with Aram and Rose. Then he left to make a stupid joke.

IC:

"A woman you say? Just once I'd like to have a conversation without the emotional problems of my boss getting in the way. Would you ever make your subordinate wear your pants?"

"My pants are my own. I do not share them", Aram replied with what appeared to be absolute seriousness. He tilted his head slightly to see if Rose was wearing pants.

Sir Cyril realises he is sitting with a group of people, having just day dreamed about Dame Elizabeth Cutler-Newington for quite a while. He hid the crease in his trousers with his glass of Brandy, and spoke.

"I say, what the bally hell is going on?"

"My pants are my own. I do not share them", Aram replied with what appeared to be absolute seriousness. He tilted his head slightly to see if Rose was wearing pants.
"My dress is my own," Rose replied, "but in the right circumstances I can be persuaded to share it."

"My dress is my own," Rose replied, "but in the right circumstances I can be persuaded to share it."

Hearing this, the "crease" in Sir Cyril's trousers increased noticably in size, and tipping over the Cognac that he had placed on his lap to camouflage the previous crease...

Rose watched Sir Cyril suspiciously.

"Aram, I think that man is getting rather excided at the thought of you in my dress."

Aram snickered as he saw Sir Cyril throw cognac all over his lap.

"Perhaps one of us should share their pants or perhaps dress with the unfortunate mister Cyril, as it appears that he has soiled his own", the Knootian said dryly as he turned his head back to Rose.

"Or should I get him a towel?"

"Don't worry Giordano. I can handle this."

Angelina turned towards Byron and waved her hand in front of his face.

"You don't want to hit on me."

She paused for another moment and then added, while waving again,

"You want to jump off the roof of the Stranger's Bar."

Byron got a glassed look in his eye and his smile dropped right off his face.
"I Fancy some fresh air" he droned in a monotone voice. He stood up and walked outside. On leaving the bar he instantly smiled again. Nevilles doo dad from the acme Company had kicked in as soon as Angelina had raised her hand and had nullified any consequences of the Jedi mind trick. Byron lit a cigarette and made a few calls only stopping at the florists in the UN Foyer. He reentered the Bar with a flourish and walked straight up to Angelina handing her the dozen black roses he had just purchased. "Dinners at 8 my dear on the UN roof. I believe the roof views are amazing and if it all goes badly you can do your jedi trick on me again." Smiling he sat again and finished his G39.

Rose sat watching Byron's display with a glint in her eye that can only be described as mischievous.


"Or should I get him a towel?"

"Perhaps I should help him with that."

A towel was easily found and Rose got to work drying the unfortunate Sir Cyril's trousers.

"Better?"

"With pleasure Knot," replied Otterby, "you wouldn't happened to have seen Holt anywhere would you"?

"I'm sorry, I haven't."

Knot ordered a Laphroaig, a pint of Guiness for Otterby and a Glenpincoe for Varia, and stood smirking at Sir Cyril's little accident.

Aram, too, watched on in amusement at Roses little display.

"Yes, thankyou. Urm, I had better go to the bathroom. Be back in a moment", Sir Cyril said to Rose, as she towelled him down, just before running out of the room.

now fully relaxed Kaigan drinks his guinness and contemplating the call he had recieved.

the foreign office was going to send him a deputy ambassador but he has argued that he needed a secretary and it would be better to promote Midori who knew how the UN worked.

While more decisions were being made back home he watches his unaware assistant practicing her trick shots.

Now that he was getting to know other ambassadors he felt right at home and smiled when he seen Byron giving Angelina the black roses.

His phone goes off again and he answers talking in his own language to the foreign office who had got back to him quicker than he thought it would take them to.

"I'm not a hallucination, Special," Gurgle says, drawing near the man, "and, if you want to get your tunes back, you might want to think about tapping on the 'pause' button...again."

With that, he turns his attention to Kaigen and company.

"By the way, is it true that the Hempy and Hearty Ale has actual tetrahydracannibinol in it?"

Astounded at his great good fortune to experience a visual and auditory hallucination, Mickey Special sits down to ponder the meaning of it all.

"Wow. I mean, that's just..wow. 'Tap on the pause button again'. Yeah. Or, or, I could hit 'play'. But...we're gonna need some mellower tunes now"

Mickey Special rummages around in a filthy backpack filled with tapes, CD's, beef jerky and (strangely) 8-Tracks.

"Yeah, this'll hit the spot!"

He inserts a CD of Pink Floyd Meddle into the boombox, reduces the volume slightly, and presses "play".

"Hey, uh, Neville? Could I have a glass of juice? Thanks."

"Yes, thankyou. Urm, I had better go to the bathroom. Be back in a moment", Sir Cyril said to Rose, as she towelled him down, just before running out of the room.
Rose returned to Aram. Smirking.

"Well that was rude."

Half an hour later, Sir Cyril reappeared.

"Sorry about that, my dear lady. Medical condition. Honestly"

Rose put on her best smile and grabbed Sir Cyril's hand.

"Come sit with us darling. Mind that not-very-suspicious-looking bag of Aram's. Tell Neville what you'd like to drink and then tell me all about yourself. The interesting bits, at lest."

"Well, I suppose I've had a fairly ordinary life for a career diplomat. I attended an all girls bar me bording school in Cobdenia - those were good times - and Port Sir Richard University. Shame that my school days had to catch up with me; the cost of all the children is rather enormous, so I joined the Foriegn Office, like my father before me, and his father was in the British Imperial Office. One of the oldest diplomatic families around. First post was to Persia; got one or two good stories about the Shah"
he could see Rose frown slightly. All diplomats had a good story about the Shah of Iran. "but I shan't bore you with them now. Then there was Moscow, where I met my late wife Tatiana. After that they sent me to negotiate with Archduke Alexander Kapranos. That ended badly. I shot him. Had a slight war because of it. Then some chap in a Police Box and wearing a long scarf turned up and caused the slight tear in the space time continuum to spring up. Anyway, after that I was sent to Omigodtheykilledkenny, but we had to close the Embassy because apperently I wasn't female, despite my education, and they sent me here to replace Arthur Featherstonehaugh-Michelwhaite-Cholmondsey-Cholmondsey-Smythe, the Governor's son. And the rest you know from our tete a tete's in the basement. Anyway, what about yourself?"

It took Rose a while before she managed to breathe let alone form a response.

"My father was a radical. My mother was of no significance. My wife is truly horrible. My boss steals my trousers. I've dunk too much wine and I would really appreciate it if you'd join me in one of the toilet cubicles."

"My dear Lady, I must admit I come from a time that is not so, how shall I say, liberal in these aspects of life. But what the hell. Let's go"

As Rose and Sir Cyril left for the bathroom Giordano decided this would be the perfect time for a flashback.

FX: spangley lights and creepy music as we go back in time

Giordano sighed as Neville came towards him. It had never been this hard for Des. Although she looked significantly better in corsetry. But - he reasoned- he did have the nicer arse.

"It's so much more subtle than your PVC mini-skirt," the Barlord continued approvingly. "Though, to tell you the truth, I've always imagined you in black velvet. Restrained, you know. Aristocratic. Gentle, yet with a core of steel."

But Giordano didn't rush to change. He decided, instead, to leap over the bar and kiss Neville. Or at least drunkenly attempt to suck his intestines out through his mouth. Afterwards he found himself strangely dizzy - probably from lack of oxygen - and passed out on the floor.[

He ended up watching Neville most of the time.

"Old boy," said Rose "you're in love."
FX: spangley lights and creepy music as we return to the present day bar.

"Neville. I was wondering. If you would… perhaps we could… If you'd marry me."

It took Rose a while before she managed to breathe let alone form a response.

"My father was a radical. My mother was of no significance. My wife is truly horrible. My boss steals my trousers. I've dunk too much wine and I would really appreciate it if you'd join me in one of the toilet cubicles."

Arams jaw dropped down as he watched Rose and then Cyril.

"I..." he began, but then he shut up again, looking at the merry Prince from Venerable libertarians.

Rose returned to Aram and forced out a smile. She found her way onto the seat next to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Christ… So what is this Pink Bunny stuff?"

Knot's observations of the comings and goings in the bar invoked his Glotopian snobbery. After relaxing a little in the company of Varia and Otterby, he returned abruptly to 'uptight mode'.

Disgusted by the lack of decorum in the bar and the collapsing of the boundaries between public and private conduct, he bade them both goodnight and headed for the exit.

"This lot in charge of the crucial and fragile fabric of international relations?" he thought. "Terrifying. I think I'll go back to my quarters and finish off reading that World Development Movement report on water privatization".

Hmmph.

As Rose and Sir Cyril left for the bathroom Giordano decided this would be the perfect time for a flashback.

"Neville. I was wondering. If you would… perhaps we could… If you'd marry me."

If Neville had got around to serving her her drink, Hodgelett might have spluttered into it. Fortunately, Violet had been collecting empty glasses from the other side of the room and Neville seemed to be in an absent minded state.
While she'd never seriously considered Neville's proposal it was surprising how much shock and, (could it be...?) jealousy the gentleman in question aroused.

having finished his conversation with the Kirisuban foreign office and secured Midori's promotion, Kaigan is happy.

he beckons over his assistant and in Kirisuban tells her the good news. she bows, smiles and then hugs her boss.

Noting the presence of the others including Gurgle and Mr Special, Kaigan taps his beer glass to get everyones attention.

"I would like to announce that my assistant Miss Midori Kasigi is now the Kirisuban deputy ambassador to the UN. i hope you will join me in this little celebration and to wish the best for Miss Kasigi in her new job"

Midori looks blissfully happy and drinks some of her lager to steady her nerves.

Arams jaw dropped down as he watched Rose and then Cyril.

"I..." he began, but then he shut up again, looking at the merry Prince from Venerable libertarians.
Byron raised an eyebrow and replied....
"Sorry Buddy, You aint my type!"

OOC. What a carry on.:D

Narrator-forgetfulness-syndrome strikes again!

Hannah and Stephanie suddenly shocked back into movement, just in time to hear Giordano's proposal.

"Ye gods," Hannah spluttered, "what's been happening round here while I've been at Enn? First the barman gets a name, then starts doing his own actions, and now he's being proposed to!"

As he headed toward the door, Knot passed by what seemed to be a large pillar with strange bronze tiles on it.

"Well, it certainly took you long enough to get to me," a tenor voice said from nearby. "You know, I was thinking that maybe we could negotiate a trade arrangement or two. I noticed that you're a very nuts-and-bolts sort of diplomat, and thought that we might have a better go of trying to do something diplomatic than merely making small talk. So let's form alliances. My nation, Dastardly Stench, is literally drowning in natural gas, and we're looking to see if we can export some of it. We also have a robust information technology industry. Do you think that there is something that we might have grounds to negotiate? Might it be a better use of your time than reading manuals in your compound?"

It wasn't a pillar. It was a front leg. Fortunately, its owner didn't seem intent on pressing the issue. In fact, the owner had a polite smile on its face, jagged teeth and all.

Gorgias walked into the bar and stared around in wonder. He had been to countless international events and ceremonies, but had never before seen such an array of personalities, peoples, and cultures.

Marvelous, he thought.

Strolling over to the bar, he took a seat near a woman who appeared to be in some state of shock.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" he asked her, while at the same time looking around for a bottle of wine to help him properly settle into this new place.

[OOC: If any of you remember the nation Nargopia (yeah right), then you'll be pleased, angered, or (most likely) indifferent to the news that I have returned. I missed you guys!]

[edit: does anyone know why my nation name has the [NS] prefix? Just wondering.]

"This lot in charge of the crucial and fragile fabric of international relations?" he thought. "Terrifying. I think I'll go back to my quarters and finish off reading that World Development Movement report on water privatization".

Hmmph.
OOC: Oooooooooh, don't get me started! Tanzania, Sierra Leone... gnashing of teeth!

And 'Nargopia' is a familiar name to me, at least.

The-Republic']Gorgias walked into the bar and stared around in wonder. He had been to countless international events and ceremonies, but had never before seen such an array of personalities, peoples, and cultures.

Marvelous, he thought.

Strolling over to the bar, he took a seat near a woman who appeared to be in some state of shock.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" he asked her, while at the same time looking around for a bottle of wine to help him properly settle into this new place.

[OOC: If any of you remember the nation Nargopia (yeah right), then you'll be pleased, angered, or (most likely) indifferent to the news that I have returned. I missed you guys!]
[edit: does anyone know why my nation name has the [NS] prefix? Just wondering.]

Byron strolled over to the Member for the nation of The-Republic. "Greetings Friend, You seem vaguely familiar to me. Have we met before? Forgive me, I am Prince Esheram Byron, Representing the Realm of Hibernia. Allow me to Buy you a drink. Whats your Poison?"

Gorgias turned to look at the man who had addressed him.

"Hello Prince Byron. Yes, I met you when I accompanied Phaedro to the Realm, requesting admittance to your region. Nice to see you again, and thank you for the drink offer. Hmmm, I've been looking through the wine menu, and... ah! There it is, a nice glass of Assyrtiko, something to remind me of home if you wouldn't mind."

The-Republic']Gorgias turned to look at the man who had addressed him.

"Hello Prince Byron. Yes, I met you when I accompanied Phaedro to the Realm, requesting admittance to your region. Nice to see you again, and thank you for the drink offer. Hmmm, I've been looking through the wine menu, and... ah! There it is, a nice glass of Assyrtiko, something to remind me of home if you wouldn't mind."
"Oh yes! Now I recall." Byron turned to Violet Delighted to have another Member of the Realm In his company. "Violet, two glasses of Assyrtiko and bring the bottle please. Neville seems somewhat distracted after Giordano's Proposal. If you need a hand in the Bar i can call Sophia to give you a helping hand." Violet produced two Glasses and the Bottle of Assyrtiko and poured. Byron raised his glass aloft. "To Friendship and Prosperity!"

"Oh yes! Now I recall." Byron turned to Violet Delighted to have another Member of the Realm In his company. "Violet, two glasses of Assyrtiko and bring the bottle please. Neville seems somewhat distracted after Giordano's Proposal. If you need a hand in the Bar i can call Sophia to give you a helping hand." Violet produced two Glasses and the Bottle of Assyrtiko and poured. Byron raised his glass aloft. "To Friendship and Prosperity!"
"To Friendship and Prosperity indeed!" exclaimed Gorgias, raising his glass to Byron's before taking a generous drink. I must say, this bar here is quite exciting. How often do you visit?"

The-Republic']"To Friendship and Prosperity indeed!" exclaimed Gorgias, raising his glass to Byron's before taking a generous drink. I must say, this bar here is quite exciting. How often do you visit?"
As the International Public face of the Realm i must admit I rarely leave By order of His Majesty. You see King James is of the View that the more public the Hibernian face the better the advertising for the Realm. Personally speaking i just enjoy the company and the realm has a wonderful delegation based on the 40th floor with newly renovated offices that leaves me with very little to do here. Perhaps i should introduce you to a few of the more colourful members of the bar.
Byron turned to the others. "Those two ladies represent the Triumvirate of Enn, The dragon there is here from the nation of Dastardly stench, That fellow over ther looking for his cohort is from Compadria. The Old Confused looking gent is the rep for Cobdenia. This will take all night" Byron laughed.
"Follow me, I will have them introduce them selves."

Gorgias rose, taking his glass with him, and followed Prince Byron, eager to meet these interesting international personalities.

"Very well, thank you" said Knot.

"And yourself".

Good heavens, thought Knot, I'm getting the hang of this social stuff.

"And which proud nation do you represent?"

Avarhierrim, the land of rolling hills and white horses, Where all citizens are assaisans, mercenaries or spies. well you've got the right answers but remember my questions.

Rose returned to Aram and forced out a smile. She found her way onto the seat next to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Christ… So what is this Pink Bunny stuff?"

Aram tilted his head slightly to look at Rose with something that actually seemed to resemble a smile.

"A very special cola", he told Rose with a pleased grin, "If you drink it, you'll just want to 'hop' to the store for more, they say. But I could just order us two and you can try it out."

The Knootian raised his hand and snapped his fingers loudly with a meaningful look towards the bartender. When he was sure to have his attention he raised two fingers, first, and then formed his hand in a boyscout gesture that represented a rapbit if cast upon the shadow of a wall...

"Its not going to turn me a funny colour is it?" said Rose, "I'm having a bit of a rough day as it is…"

"Neville. I was wondering. If you would… perhaps we could… If you'd marry me."

Neville had been enjoying a magenta-and-navy haze in which all events seemed equally entertaining. When the navy half of him disapproved of Rose's wanton carryings-on, the magenta half urged him to loosen up. When the magenta half became so enthused that it seemed likely to make the disastrous declaration, "I am Happy!" (thus introducing all sorts of Kawaiian theological complications), the navy half trod heavily and painfully on its toe. All was in balance, and Neville's mind was free to roam.

Consequently he had more or less figured out the source of the mysterious brew. He had been expecting something of the sort ever since he had one-upped The Building Manager in the battle over the Kawaiian shrine. It would probably turn out that the magenta and navy colours represented that worthy's favourite sporting team, and that they would fade with time. That would even the score without actually hurting anyone, which was entirely in keeping with the benevolent struggle the two pursued ...

Neville had reached this point in his meditations when the meaning of Giordano's words hit him. The colour fled from his face (which was, objectively speaking, one way of getting rid of it). He cast a despairing glance at Hodgelett, wondering if he could get away with the 'already spoken for' line. He, Neville, was proposer, not proposee, material.

Then he realised: this was a Life-Changing Moment. A decidedly pleasant vista opened before him. Gio, dear Gio, was already a valued playmate. How would it be to join lives, go hand-in-hand into the sunset, stand black velvet shoulder to black velvet shoulder against the Dark, have a strong right arm that would catch the Banner with the Strange Device when his own grip faltered and failed ... a tender smile curved the Barlord's sensitive mouth ...

And the phone rang.

Neville raised the instrument reluctantly. It was the voice he had, unknowingly, dreaded: The Ubarlord. Anguish creased his manly features. His dreams fled on tattered wings. In broken tones he answered Giordano: "Gio ... I must not. I am a Barlord. I cannot break my vows." His head bowed, he whispered, "I am Sworn to Unchastity."

Catching a look of blank incomprehension from his would-be spouse, he explained, "How could I put you through that, my dear? Each night, as you cast off the toils of office and turned your thoughts to sweet dreams of home, you would be wondering ... who (or rather, whom) shall I find him with tonight? What shall I find him with tonight? How many? Shall I find him at all? The iron would enter your trusting soul ... you would become bitter, twisted ... a butterfly broken upon a wheel ... No, Giordano, I cannot do it! For your sake, I cannot do it!"

The nobility of that last statement caused a slight spatter of applause. It died instantly as the phone rang again. Again Neville answered.

He put it down shakily. "It has been pointed out to me," he said, "that if I remain unmarried, I will not be breaking my vows. Uh, Violet, would you watch the bar for a while?"

(In the interest of our For General Exhibition rating, CUT to out-of-focus shot of silhouettes, indeterminable in both number and gender, walking dreamily along a beach at sunset.)

OOC: Welcome back, Nargopia, from a fellow addict. Or possibly NS Fellow Addict.

Kaigan introduces himself and the new deputy ambassador to the the newcomer.

"my name is Kaigan Miromuta, the Ambassador from the Empire of Kirisubo and the young lady is Miss Midori Kasigi, the newly appointed Deputy Ambassador.

I hope we can work together in the future"

Midori bows in Kirisuban fashion and gives Gorgias a broad smile.

Kaigan introduces himself and the new deputy ambassador to the the newcomer.

"my name is Kaigan Miromuta, the Ambassador from the Empire of Kirisubo and the young lady is Miss Midori Kasigi, the newly appointed Deputy Ambassador.

I hope we can work together in the future"

Midori bows in Kirisuban fashion and gives Gorgias a broad smile.
Gorgias smiled at his new colleagues.

"A pleasure to meet you both. My name is Gorgias, Speaker to the UN for The-Republic. I've heard impressive things about the Empire. I too hope that we can work together in the future."

Gorgias was excited to meet these new interesting people, and was about to ask whether the Kirisubis might be interested in establishing an embassy in The-Republic when his phone rang.

"I'm so sorry, I'll be right back," he said to Prince Byron and the Kirisubian representatives.

"Gorgias here," he spoke into his phone. "Yes... oh, excellent, very good... I shall register the vote as soon as I can... you too... goodbye."

Returning, he apologized again before inquiring about the possible embassy establishment.

kaigan smiles and says "theres no need to apologise. i have the same problem as will Midori once our foreign office makes this official"

in perfect unaccented English Midori replies "pleased to meet you Gorgias san". she pulls over a spare bar stool for him and adds "I'm sure we would be interested in exchanging embassies. we don't have a major overseas presence yet and our government wants to show its face more on the world stage"

"Well!...Well I never. This place never fails to surprise me." Hodgelett took a sip from the drink that had finally appeared at her elbow. It seemed to bring her back to reality if un-reality is where she'd been. The fact that Neville seemed to be off somewhere clicked and she dimpled a smile at Violet as she bustled past.
"Do you need a hand honey? I'm sure I can divert my bustling squirrels a little longer and being behind a bar again would be a refreshing change frankly."
With the permission of an answering grin, Hodgelett sent a few contradictatory messages in various directions from her gadget and hopped behind the bar.

"Well!...Well I never. This place never fails to surprise me." Hodgelett took a sip from the drink that had finally appeared at her elbow. It seemed to bring her back to reality if un-reality is where she'd been. The fact that Neville seemed to be off somewhere clicked and she dimpled a smile at Violet as she bustled past.
"Do you need a hand honey? I'm sure I can divert my bustling squirrels a little longer and being behind a bar again would be a refreshing change frankly."
With the permission of an answering grin, Hodgelett sent a few contradictatory messages in various directions from her gadget and hopped behind the bar.

Gurgle the dragon smiled at the new "barlord," a mischievous grin. "If you're going to do that, my dear, I'm going to make you work." He brought his ale keg--now empty--over to the bar and, though it would be difficult for a human to lift, much less control, he all but effortlessly placed it on the bar using his teeth to hold it.

"Fill 'er up," he said. "And, perhaps, while you're at it, you might get me to talk with that Mr. Kaigen. I hear he's looking for reciprocal embassies, and Dastardly Stench is certainly looking for the opportunity to make new allies."

While Midori talks with Gorgias, Kaigan heads to the bar with his empty beer glass and orders a green tea with Violet.

he bows to Gurgle the dragon and while he waits for his tea he says "Gurgle you never do things by half"

(In the interest of our For General Exhibition rating, CUT to out-of-focus shot of silhouettes, indeterminable in both number and gender, walking dreamily along a beach at sunset.)
When Neville returned to the bar he was without Giordano. He had decided it was probably best to return to New Manchester. And if he stopped of in HotRodia on the way he may just have time…

If only he could convince Desdemona.

Dastardly Stench']Gurgle the dragon smiled at the new "barlord," a mischievous grin. "If you're going to do that, my dear, I'm going to make you work." He brought his ale keg--now empty--over to the bar and, though it would be difficult for a human to lift, much less control, he all but effortlessly placed it on the bar using his teeth to hold it.

"Fill 'er up," he said. "And, perhaps, while you're at it, you might get me to talk with that Mr. Kaigen. I hear he's looking for reciprocal embassies, and Dastardly Stench is certainly looking for the opportunity to make new allies."

"We'd be more than happy to establish an alliance with your nation, Gurgle", said Otterby, "I'm sure both Compadria and Dastardly Stench could benefit enormously from such a linking".

Dastardly Stench']Gurgle the dragon smiled at the new "barlord," a mischievous grin. "If you're going to do that, my dear, I'm going to make you work." He brought his ale keg--now empty--over to the bar and, though it would be difficult for a human to lift, much less control, he all but effortlessly placed it on the bar using his teeth to hold it.

"Fill 'er up," he said. "And, perhaps, while you're at it, you might get me to talk with that Mr. Kaigen. I hear he's looking for reciprocal embassies, and Dastardly Stench is certainly looking for the opportunity to make new allies."

"We'd be more than happy to establish an alliance with your nation, Gurgle", said Otterby, "I'm sure both Compadria and Dastardly Stench could benefit enormously from such a linking".

Dastardly Stench']Gurgle the dragon smiled at the new "barlord," a mischievous grin. "If you're going to do that, my dear, I'm going to make you work." He brought his ale keg--now empty--over to the bar and, though it would be difficult for a human to lift, much less control, he all but effortlessly placed it on the bar using his teeth to hold it.

"Fill 'er up," he said. "And, perhaps, while you're at it, you might get me to talk with that Mr. Kaigen. I hear he's looking for reciprocal embassies, and Dastardly Stench is certainly looking for the opportunity to make new allies."

"We'd be more than happy to establish an alliance with your nation, Gurgle", said Otterby, "I'm sure both Compadria and Dastardly Stench could benefit enormously from such a linking".

"We'd be more than happy to establish an alliance with your nation, Gurgle", said Otterby, "I'm sure both Compadria and Dastardly Stench could benefit enormously from such a linking".

"Excellent!" the dragon replies. "When can we get started? My support staff has industrial reports and currency ratings and all the things that make the bean counters so very happy! I'll arrange a meeting! I propose a toast to the prospect of a better future together!"

"We'd be more than happy to establish an alliance with your nation, Gurgle", said Otterby, "I'm sure both Compadria and Dastardly Stench could benefit enormously from such a linking".

"Excellent!" the dragon replies. "When can we get started? My support staff has industrial reports and currency ratings and all the things that make the bean counters so very happy! I'll arrange a meeting! I propose a toast to the prospect of a better future together!

"Eh, do you often repeat yourself?"

While Midori talks with Gorgias, Kaigan heads to the bar with his empty beer glass and orders a green tea with Violet.

he bows to Gurgle the dragon and while he waits for his tea he says "Gurgle you never do things by half"

Gurgle returns the man's bow with deep respect.

"You, sir," he replies, a gentle grin playing across his features, "are very observant."

Turning to Gurgle, Gorgias said, "I must say, good sir, that with all of the international gatherings I've attended, I've never had the pleasure of meeting a dragon. My name is Gorgias, The-Republic's Speaker to the United Nations, and it is a pleasure to meet you."

Kaigan's tea arrives and he drinks a little from it.

he says to Gurgle "since everyones trying to establish embassies with each other would it be possible to arrange a meeting for the end of the week. With Midori returning to Kirisubo for a few days I doubt i'll have the time before then"

he sighs and mutters "I hope my new secretary arrives soon"

"Eh, do you often repeat yourself?"

"I think it's just an after effect of your gas Gurgle, no offence intended."

Test!

Test!
Looks like its fixed :D

OOC: So there was a Bug in the Bar? That explains a lot that's been going on, and I don't mean just double posts.

It was buggy for me; for some reason I could access every page except for the last one.

Hannah and Stephanie, having rid themselves of various bugs, decided it was time to liven up the bar, the same way they'd done many a time before.

"Anyone for Twister?"

"I think it's just an after effect of your gas Gurgle, no offence intended."

"I see. I get the daintiness spell to stop things from repeating, so...things start repeating...

"Maybe I should have the spell removed, no offense intended."

"Its not going to turn me a funny colour is it?" said Rose, "I'm having a bit of a rough day as it is…"

"Nah", Aram said reassuringly as two flasks were brought in. "It is a bit sugary sweet, though, so it takes some getting used to. I'm sure you'll love it though."

The barkeep put a bottle with a furry pink bunny on label in front of Rose, and another one in front of Aram. With a quick move of his hand the Knootian got out an opener from the pocket of his jacket, opening Roses bottle with a plopping sound.

Hannah and Stephanie, having rid themselves of various bugs, decided it was time to liven up the bar, the same way they'd done many a time before.

"Anyone for Twister?"
"Count me in!" said Gorgias, excited to make new friends, but also somewhat nervous because he didn't know exactly what "Twister" was.

"Nah", Aram said reassuringly as two flasks were brought in. "It is a bit sugary sweet, though, so it takes some getting used to. I'm sure you'll love it though."

The barkeep put a bottle with a furry pink bunny on label in front of Rose, and another one in front of Aram. With a quick move of his hand the Knootian got out an opener from the pocket of his jacket, opening Roses bottle with a plopping sound.

Aram put up bemused smile rather than resistance when she tilted his head back and opened his mouth. She poured the drink into his mouth. Either by chance or by design some ended up on his bottom lip.

Suddenly feeling shy she buried her head on his shoulder.

Hannah and Stephanie, having rid themselves of various bugs, decided it was time to liven up the bar, the same way they'd done many a time before.

"Anyone for Twister?"

"Count me in", called out Otterby, "do you know Compadrian twister by any chance"?

"Count me in", called out Otterby, "do you know Compadrian twister by any chance"?
If its anything like im suspecting it to be, I'm twisting the dial.:D

"Count me in", called out Otterby, "do you know Compadrian twister by any chance"?
"Does that involve otters?" Stephanie asked of the Compadrian.

"Well yes, in a way, you see Twisting is an ancient sport in Compadria, used to settle regional disputes, cement agreements and decide who got what after a spot of looting. Its rules were finalised in the 15th century. Basically:

1). You have a special twister board, measuring 8 squares by 8. There are four colours: Red, blue, green and brown.

2). To decide who goes first, an otter is tossed in the air. A player guesses before hand how many times it will bounce after hitting the ground (we use a breed called the Rubber Otter for this purpose). If two players get the same number or are equally close, the process is repeated as many times as necessary.

3). To decide what squares you have to position yourself on, a dial is produced, with four equally divided parts.

4). It is spun vigorously and an otter placed on it. The colour the otter's on is your colour.

5). You then toss the otter in the air to determine how many squares you have to establish contact with. This time, it's the number of times an otter squeaks before landing that determines the number (we use a species called the Tin Whistle Otter for this).

6). The player then tries to adopt the necessary positions. If he fails, he has to buy a round for everyone within a 10 metre radius of him.

"Those are the rules in short. What do you think"?

"Sounds fun. But we usually go with Ennish Contortionist Twister."

"Sounds fun. But we usually go with Ennish Contortionist Twister."

"How does that work"? Asked Otterby, eyes raised at the prospect of learning a new version of Twister.

Gorgias' brain was in overload. Not only had he just heard of the game of Twister mere minutes ago, but now he'd been exposed to three variations of the game before playing it once!

He made a mental note to introduce this "Twister" to The-Republic as soon as he returned home.

"How does that work"? Asked Otterby, eyes raised at the prospect of learning a new version of Twister.
"Well, it's normal Twister, but extra points if you manage to get yourself into a knot that requires medical assistance, or the Jaws of Life, in undoing. If it requires both, you instantly win."

Byron decided to sit the twister out, no matter what form of rules it employed. The only thing he wanted twisted was the knot in his impeccably tied tie. He sat down with his thoughts and asked Violet for a G39.
She arrived soon after with the drink and placed it in front of him. He watched her move away and remembered when he had first noticed her in the bar, his first order for a drink ensuring she got a job.
His mind reminisced of old colleagues no longer in the service of the UN as their nations ceased or were glassed. Where were they now?
Where were Iron Pig and his Bandages? Where was Wade the Penguin? Where was Nargopia? A recent visit to the madman of Bowdigity leaving aid and food parcels revealed the wasteland that once was the noble and respected region of Bowdigity had been all but consumed by desert and scrub. If it was not for the crazed Nation of Poco loco Peros the region would have disappeared totally into NS history. What happened to the nation of New Matrix and the eagerness of its young delegation? He thought of DLE, Asshelmetta (YGSM) and in his own region the nations of Grand Cali and Irlynn. Those he remembered fondly having been told of the tale of how the three nations of Venerable Libertarians, Irlynn and Grand Cali had left the Exodus and formed the Realm.
Byron felt old, tired, and weary. Perhaps it was time to pass on the delegation of the realm. Concentrate on National and international affairs of his Regency.
He watched the young Georgias. Perhaps he considered, Just perhaps. Byron stood and walked back to where the twister had kicked off.
Georgias was after throwing an otter and was about to get knotted around Stephanie of Enn as Byron approached. "Comfortable Stephanie?" Byron asked smirking at the obviously uncomfortable delegate who was wearing a dress more suited to a cocktail party than the sport of Compadrian Tarka Twister. Still she was a gamey old bird for getting involved he thought.
"Georgias" he called, "Perhaps we should have a chat? You seem interested in UN politics and are active. I was wondering if you would like to take up the open job representing the Realm as International Diplomatic Liaison. Basically you are the Delegates right hand man and ultimately eventual replacement here in the UN. Come have a chat with me and we can discuss it some more when you have finished your game." Byron turned and headed back to his pint. Violet Bracket was at the Bar and greeted him with a smile. It was time to prepare. The King of Venerable Libertarians was not going to live forever.

Where was Nargopia? A recent visit to the madman of Bowdigity leaving aid and food parcels revealed the wasteland that once was the noble and respected region of Bowdigity had been all but consumed by desert and scrub. If it was not for the crazed Nation of Poco loco Peros the region would have disappeared totally into NS history.:( ;)
[OOC: Thanks for the tribute/eulogy. I owe ya one.]
"Georgias" he called, "Perhaps we should have a chat? You seem interested in UN politics and are active. I was wondering if you would like to take up the open job representing the Realm as International Diplomatic Liaison. Basically you are the Delegates right hand man and ultimately eventual replacement here in the UN. Come have a chat with me and we can discuss it some more when you have finished your game."Upon hearing his name, Gorgias twisted to face Byron. This weight shift caused him to go crashing to the mat, almost dragging Stephanie along with him. Somehow, though, she was maintaining her balance, at least for the moment.

"I say, my good prince, you do know how do expertly distract a young aspiring politician from a good game of Twister," he laughed. This open position sounds quite intriguing. I'll inform my Philosopher-King of your offer, and we'll be certain to discuss the matter with you as soon as possible."

[OOC: We'll be responding to the offer either via telegram or the regional message board, VenLibs, so keep an eye open there.]

"There's not any of them damned Yeldans in here is there? God I hate those arrogant sons of bitches!"

Mr. Special is escorted from the bar by a pair of friendly agents from the Committee For State Security. He is placed in the trunk of The People's Limousine and taken away to parts unknown.

"Nothing else to see here. Please continue with your drinking. All is well"

Yeldan Foreign Minister Quynn Olver enters the bar accompanied by Hæila Wythåefþ, the UN ambassador, and Aüþgæþ Spøtyiú, the CSS attache. Wythåefþ and Spøtyiú go off to a booth alone while Quynn approaches Prince Byron.

"Byron my old friend! I've been meaning to make it down here and lift a pint with you. What are you having? G39 is it? Excellent! G39's all around and put it on Yelda's tab."

Yeldan Foreign Minister Quynn Olver enters the bar accompanied by Hæila Wythåefþ, the UN ambassador, and Aüþgæþ Spøtyiú, the CSS attache. Wythåefþ and Spøtyiú go off to a booth alone while Quynn approaches Prince Byron.

"Byron my old friend! I've been meaning to make it down here and lift a pint with you. What are you having? G39 is it? Excellent! G39's all around and put it on Yelda's tab."
:D

Well hello my fine delegates. i am Dinky McGonall, official delegate, Hurleyland. i have brought our finest product (Hurley Hanta Bud). For those who unwind with Ganja, come, laugh and be merry.

MR. Dinky McGonall

Well hello my fine delegates. i am Dinky McGonall, official delegate, Hurleyland. i have brought our finest product (Hurley Hanta Bud). For those who unwind with Ganja, come, laugh and be merry.

MR. Dinky McGonall

"Why welcome to our humble water-hole Mr McGonall", said Otterby cheerfully, "I think I'll try some of your Hurley Hanta Bud if I may? Oh and are you interested in Twister"?

Well Sir, puff puff give and it is to you. i prefer to indulge in this irish car bomb here and watch the futbol game. Go Hurleyland United!!!

Hannah got up off the twister mat (with some difficulty, due to her arms and one leg being plaited together). She decided that she'd leave Stephanie to the game, and hobble over to the Yeldans and Byron.

"A G39? Don't think I've ever tried that. You must be the Yeldan delegation, I'm Hannah Sikura, until recently Chairwoman of Enn, now Joint Consul to the UN."

"Oh, it's Lord Byron's twist on a Guiness...not sure where the 39 came from though." Hodgelett said as she got back into the swing of pulling pints and set one down before the entangled young woman. The work was making her re-experience some of her wild youth - as wild as you can get in a country where the police and the older generation spent a lot of time looking disaprovingly down their noses - no matter how legitamate the activity.
"I still need the gossip, who's the young man who's besotted with the 'keep?"

Mr. Special is escorted from the bar by a pair of friendly agents from the Committee For State Security. He is placed in the trunk of The People's Limousine and taken away to parts unknown.

"Nothing else to see here. Please continue with your drinking. All is well"

Noting that the Pink Floyd is no longer playing on the Jukebox, Gurgle finds one of the agents in question and discretely removes him around a nearby corner, using his unique talents to ascertain the situation. When the agent returns, he reeks of flatulance--and he has been told that it is a magic smell that has been cast upon him and will last forever.

Mr. Special may be a moron, but that's no excuse for an act of war.

Within minutes, a special detachment of the Special forces of the Dominion of Dastardly Stench, the Silent But Deadly Brigade, have been alterted to the situation and are working with authorities to help avert an armed conflict. They are under special instructions that no one is to be harmed.

Finding Mr. Kaigan still at the bar, Gurgle then makes yet another attempt to strike up a conversation.

"So, Mr. Kaigen, just how was it that you came to be in service of your country's diplomatic corps? How did they find such a charming and competant ambassador?" he asks with a charming, nonchelant smile.

Kaigan drinks more of his guinness and replies "i think i know why. I served abroad as the commander of the Kirisuban forces attached to the Gatesville Soverign Protectorate. Then our first ambassador was recalled under strange circumstances.

I had an interest in UN affairs even then I suppose"

looking at the keg that Gurgle uses as a drinking vessel he asks "have you tried saki before?"

Hey who wants to join me in a old fashion irish beer song?

"A G39? Don't think I've ever tried that. You must be the Yeldan delegation, I'm Hannah Sikura, until recently Chairwoman of Enn, now Joint Consul to the UN."
"So pleased to finally meet you Consul Sikura! I've heard much about you from your days as Chairwoman, all of it good I assure you. I am Quynn Olver, foreign minister of Yelda."

Dastardly Stench']Mr. Special may be a moron, but that's no excuse for an act of war.
The Foreign Minister smiles.

"Don't worry about Mr. Special, no harm will come to him. We have...a 'relationship', shall we say, with the nation of 77 Camaro and with that Camaroian in particular. He'll be well taken care of and returned to his home"

Aram put up bemused smile rather than resistance when she tilted his head back and opened his mouth. She poured the drink into his mouth. Either by chance or by design some ended up on his bottom lip.

Suddenly feeling shy she buried her head on his shoulder.

Aram guzzled the shot down like a trained binge drinker, keeping his eyes fixed on the drink as he did so. With the final slurp he had to restrain himself not to burp loudly, but the drink was guzzling up his throat as she buried her head in Arams shoulder. With a smirk, Aram carefully stroked with his finger alongside his bottom lip to catch the drops of PBC before maneuvering it close to Roses mouth. Meanwhile, the Knootian slowly put his free arm behind the Black New Worlder.

Suddenly, from out of seemingly nowhere, several otaku from the HOCEK delegation run screaming through the bar, shouting, "RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!! THE SANRIO KITTENS ARE REVOLTING (http://www.nationstates.net/the_eternal_kawaii)!!!"

The Foreign Minister smiles.

"Don't worry about Mr. Special, no harm will come to him. We have...a 'relationship', shall we say, with the nation of 77 Camaro and with that Camaroian in particular. He'll be well taken care of and returned to his home"

The dragon lifts his tail in disgust.

"I might accept that coming from a Camaronian," he says, "but we of the Dastardly Stench enjoy a proud tradition of fierce independence. Certainly, you cannot expect me to trust the word of one of the gentleman's...escourts.

"Your agent is currently under the influence of a permafart. I can deliver an antedote fart within 72 hours which will reverse this situation. I will only do so, however, if I am provided with coordinates of this gentleman's current location, so that our Silent But Deadly brigade can verify that he is being treated within the guidelines established by international law, and the laws of this august body. Word from the Camaronian government that there has been no wrongdoing will also elicit an antidote, if the agent is willing to accept it.

"I'm sorry, but my superiors take International Law and the Geneva Convention VERY seriously, and have empowered me to act unilaterally to insure that these are maintained. Rather hypocritical if you ask me, but I'm still bound by the terms of my employment."

OOC: Just post something where the minister hands out some numbers, and the guys verify that things are going OK, and Gurgle will fix your guy up and stop bothering you folks. He's not really looking to start a feud.

Dastardly Stench']The dragon lifts his tail in disgust.

"I might accept that coming from a Camaronian," he says, "but we of the Dastardly Stench enjoy a proud tradition of fierce independence. Certainly, you cannot expect me to trust the word of one of the gentleman's...escourts.

"Your agent is currently under the influence of a permafart. I can deliver an antedote fart within 72 hours which will reverse this situation. I will only do so, however, if I am provided with coordinates of this gentleman's current location, so that our Silent But Deadly brigade can verify that he is being treated within the guidelines established by international law, and the laws of this august body. Word from the Camaronian government that there has been no wrongdoing will also elicit an antidote, if the agent is willing to accept it.

"I'm sorry, but my superiors take International Law and the Geneva Convention VERY seriously, and have empowered me to act unilaterally to insure that these are maintained. Rather hypocritical if you ask me, but I'm still bound by the terms of my employment."

OOC: Just post something where the minister hands out some numbers, and the guys verify that things are going OK, and Gurgle will fix your guy up and stop bothering you folks. He's not really looking to start a feud.

Overhearing this rather audacious speech delivered to his Foreign Minister, Aüþgæþ Spøtyiú joins the conversation.

~whispered to Quynn Olver~ "Comrade, perhaps it would be better if I.........<inaudible whispering>.......security matter........<more inaudible whispering>....Exactly."

He turns and speaks to Gurgle.

"I'm terribly sorry that this incident has caused you such obvious distress. I can assure you that Mr. Special is perfectly safe and happy. Unfortunately, we will be unable to divulge his coordinates as he is currently aboard a Yeldan transport enroute to his home. If you knew his exact coordinates then you would also know the coordinates of the ship. It would be a breach of security, I'm afraid. I'm sure you understand and I hope this reassures you.

Oh, by the way. I'm curious about something. Actually a couple of somethings. This 'agent' you keep speaking of, who is he? I only sent in a pair of agents and both of them left with Mr. Special. And what is the 'Geneva Convention'? We've never heard of it."

"Oh, it's Lord Byron's twist on a Guiness...not sure where the 39 came from though." Hodgelett said as she got back into the swing of pulling pints and set one down before the entangled young woman. The work was making her re-experience some of her wild youth - as wild as you can get in a country where the police and the older generation spent a lot of time looking disaprovingly down their noses - no matter how legitamate the activity.
"I still need the gossip, who's the young man who's besotted with the 'keep?"
"Guinness with a twist indeed. It is a special form of Guinness known as Brew 39 and has all the goodness of Guinness's Special Porter with none of the bitterness. Try it, Its quite a thing!"Byron picks up his G39 and sups it in large satisfying gulps.

Aram guzzled the shot down like a trained binge drinker, keeping his eyes fixed on the drink as he did so. With the final slurp he had to restrain himself not to burp loudly, but the drink was guzzling up his throat as she buried her head in Arams shoulder. With a smirk, Aram carefully stroked with his finger alongside his bottom lip to catch the drops of PBC before maneuvering it close to Roses mouth. Meanwhile, the Knootian slowly put his free arm behind the Black New Worlder.
Rose was amazed at how good Aram tasted. Sort of… but not quite… a definite kick… or maybe more… and… and Aram looked rather confused. Bugger.

She needed a drink and there was still a bottle of Pink Bunny Cola left. In a matter of seconds most of it was gone.

"Wow."

Rose, haveing left her nervousness in the bottom of the bottle, pulled Aram into a kiss.

"Do you know, that's the third time that happened to me. There must be something about this bar"

Suddenly, from out of seemingly nowhere, several otaku from the HOCEK delegation run screaming through the bar, shouting, "RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!! THE SANRIO KITTENS ARE REVOLTING (http://www.nationstates.net/the_eternal_kawaii)!!!"

The short, rather stocky young woman was sitting at a corner table nursing a large stein of dark beer. As the Ambassador-at-Large from Ausserland, she didn't spend much time at the UN, and this was her first time in this... uh... interesting establishment. She frowned as the people from The Eternal Kawaii ran through the room.

"Funny," she muttered to herself. "I never thought those kittens were revolting. I always thought they were kinda cute."

She gave a little shrug and took another swallow of beer.

The panicking otaku were fortunately quickly reined in by a pair of Happiness Policewomen sent to fetch them. One of the turned to the ambassador from Ausserland, and said, "Forgive our rather excitable brothers here. It seems our nation is under attack (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=458061) at the moment."

One of the struggling young priests screamed out as he was dragged from the bar, "IT'S THE END, I TELL YOU!!! THE END!!!!"

(OOC note: Feel free to chime in on the thread if you like. :) )

The panicking otaku were fortunately quickly reined in by a pair of Happiness Policewomen sent to fetch them. One of the turned to the ambassador from Ausserland, and said, "Forgive our rather excitable brothers here. It seems our nation is under attack (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=458061) at the moment."

One of the struggling young priests screamed out as he was dragged from the bar, "IT'S THE END, I TELL YOU!!! THE END!!!!"

(OOC note: Feel free to chime in on the thread if you like. :) )

Anthony Holt stared with a kind of mesmerised horror at the desperate young priest and shuddered as he thought about the consequences of such a plague spreading.

Wait, hadn't there been a shipment from Kawai due to arrive in Szchelystan Port, south Compadria today? Carrying a large number of...

He suddenly became aware that his pager was beeping urgently.

"Ottarkus preserve us", he whispered frightened and stood quickly on the nearest stool.

"Ladies, gentlemen, could I have your attention please, it appears that my beloved nation has also succumbed to this sudden "kitten apocalypse" due to the unforseen arrival of several thousand kittens in a shipment this afternoon."

He paused for effect:

"Soon, due to the inevitable spread of the animals, we shall all be affected by this global kitten pandemic".

He paused again.

"That is all, you may now panic".

Byron strolled into the bar with a look of worry on his face. He ordered a G39 and sat alone with his thoughts. The King was now in the worst state of health he had ever seen and the prognosis was not good.

Dr.: Your Majesty, we are of the Opinion that the kings health is failing rapidly and we have exhausted all our wisdom and knowledge. His time is near. Perhaps you should consider taking over.
Byron: I will take over when the King expresses his final Breath and not a moment sooner.
Dr.: But Highness I beseech you. His majesty is Unfit to rule. He will never be. His time is short.
Byron: Dr. Sinquest, I will not repeat Myself again. I will assume the responsibility when the man passes.

Byron was clearly upset by the Dr. He had watched his Uncle, His only kin in the world, practically die today. It was only a matter of time. He looked at his G39 and pushed it away. "Neville, A coffee if you will". Byron decided to remain sober as the king had no use for a drunk. He would have this coffee and leave for the Bedside of King James.


http://home.ripway.com/2005-12/534911/uma-member.PNGhttp://home.ripway.com/2005-12/534911/unog-member.PNGhttp://img.photobucket.com/albums/v716/Gepgenius81/buttons/Small%20buttons/TPP-member.pnghttp://img.photobucket.com/albums/v716/Gepgenius81/buttons/Small%20buttons/una-member.pnghttp://img.photobucket.com/albums/v716/Gepgenius81/buttons/Small%20buttons/IRCO-member.png

"Byron," Gorgias said to his friend, "If you need anything... you know. These are tough times for everyone in the Realm, what with the King's state of health and all. Your uncle... he's a good man. He was a good king, and because of him, the Realm has grown into a good and just region. I have complete faith that when the time comes, you'll continue to lead this region the way he has."

Gorgias was torn between so many emotions right now... sadness at the failing health of the king, frustration at the current vote count on the UN Resolution, excitement at having just learned that the Philosopher-King was to authorize his acquisition of a new post in the Realm. While he was never a heavy drinker, he couldn't help but feel the urge to drown his sorrows.

And so, naturally, he ordered "a coffee for me too, Neville. Thanks." These were times to be there for friends, not times to recede into drunkenness.

Midori slips out again leaving Kaigan with Gurgle.

The deputy ambassador needed to arrange meetings for a VIP vistors in Kirisubo as well as other arrangements which needed taken care off.

Angelina Gallo reenters the bar, again with her bodyguards conspicuously missing. She orders a Saki and stands at the bar.

Just then, a man dressed all in black enters the bar, and pulls a blaster.

Immediately Angelina Gallo reacts, pulling the blaster out of his hand and then holding him in midair with the force. She holds him with her left hand, and sips the Saki with her right.

She turns to the would-be assassin and asks "Now, what can I do for you?"

The assassin gurgles something unintelligible, and Angelina turns to Kaigan. "Did you catch that? No matter, what do you think we should do with him?"

Overhearing this rather audacious speech delivered to his Foreign Minister, Aüþgæþ Spøtyiú joins the conversation.

~whispered to Quynn Olver~ "Comrade, perhaps it would be better if I.........<inaudible whispering>.......security matter........<more inaudible whispering>....Exactly."

He turns and speaks to Gurgle.

"I'm terribly sorry that this incident has caused you such obvious distress. I can assure you that Mr. Special is perfectly safe and happy. Unfortunately, we will be unable to divulge his coordinates as he is currently aboard a Yeldan transport enroute to his home. If you knew his exact coordinates then you would also know the coordinates of the ship. It would be a breach of security, I'm afraid. I'm sure you understand and I hope this reassures you.

Oh, by the way. I'm curious about something. Actually a couple of somethings. This 'agent' you keep speaking of, who is he? I only sent in a pair of agents and both of them left with Mr. Special. And what is the 'Geneva Convention'? We've never heard of it."

OOC:

From a previous post:

Noting that the Pink Floyd is no longer playing on the Jukebox, Gurgle finds one of the agents in question and discretely removes him around a nearby corner, using his unique talents to ascertain the situation. When the agent returns, he reeks of flatulance--and he has been told that it is a magic smell that has been cast upon him and will last forever.

Please do not contradict existing posts.

IC:

"First, you will not need me to point this agent out to you. He will be plainly recognizable by the green cloud that forms around him any time he stands still for too long. I am informed, however, that his name was 'Creptu Ventu.'"

"Second, what causes me distress is that the process might be repeated on other members of nations not your own. If one person standing in this bar is not safe, then no one standing in it is safe--and that means me, and I tend to take a dim view of threats to my...person. This brings up another important matter. I've not seen your credentials, Mr. Spøtyiú. Please indicate your nation of origin and post with that nation.

"Third, the Geneva Convention is a blanket term used to refer to international attempts to police wartime and security activities. If you've got a handheld internet device, you can find a fairly complete reference of these efforts' history at the following Universal Resource Listing:

http://www.genevaconventions.org/

"Now...I'm still waiting...and my patience is running thin."

Angelina Gallo reenters the bar, again with her bodyguards conspicuously missing. She orders a Saki and stands at the bar.

Just then, a man dressed all in black enters the bar, and pulls a blaster.

Immediately Angelina Gallo reacts, pulling the blaster out of his hand and then holding him in midair with the force. She holds him with her left hand, and sips the Saki with her right.

She turns to the would-be assassin and asks "Now, what can I do for you?"

The assassin gurgles something unintelligible, and Angelina turns to Kaigan. "Did you catch that? No matter, what do you think we should do with him?"

OOC:

Did he have to GURGLE something? I mean, did is there anything he could have done that would have assured my participation in this any LESS? :) :) :)

IC:

Gurgle turns his head away from the security situation and speaks.

"I have a method of making sure that he never goes unnoticed again," he says with a sardonic grin.

He turns his head back.

OOC: I believe Yelda is not bound by the Geneva conventions.

Kaigan using two fingers of his left hand pushes hard at the mans shoulder blade until he collapses from the pain and lies immobile.

"now what was that all about?" he asks the now disarmed assassin, making sure he can see Kaigan's long dagger.

"well I can assure you he is not an Avarhierriene assasin, or Ms Gallo would have been dead a long time ago, bodyguards or no bodyguards"

OOC: This is very bizarre. Shortly before I quit NS when I was Nargopia, Avarhierrim and I were RP'ing an attempted assassination on a certain Darrick Gran. Nothing too notable I guess, just thought it was odd.

Dastardly Stench']OOC:

From a previous post:



Please do not contradict existing posts.
OOC: Please at least make an effort to READ earlier posts:
Mr. Special is escorted from the bar by a pair of friendly agents from the Committee For State Security. He is placed in the trunk of The People's Limousine and taken away to parts unknown.

"Nothing else to see here. Please continue with your drinking. All is well"
Also, in future, you will refrain from using my characters without permission.

Dastardly Stench']IC:

Creptu Ventu.
IC: "Sounds Romanian. Never heard of him"

Dastardly Stench']I've not seen your credentials, Mr. Spøtyiú. Please indicate your nation of origin and post with that nation.
Sneers "I don't believe I'm required to identify myself to you."

Dastardly Stench']"Now...I'm still waiting...and my patience is running thin."
"And you'll be waiting quite some time, I'm afraid."

"A round of drinks for all, even the dragon, and put it on the Yeldan tab. I think it's best for us to be leaving now."

The 3 Yeldans, Quynn Olver, Hæila Wythåefþ and Aüþgæþ Spøtyiú exit the bar.

Byron thanked Quynn for the drinks before he left. He had Neville refresh his coffee. Congratulations he said returning to Georgias. I believe your Governmant have accepted the Position as the International Diplomatic Liaison for the Realm. From what I have seen you certainly have what it takes to do the Job. Byron went silent again. It was only a matter of Time now and he looked at his watch. King James was comatose and wasnt coming back. Byrons Heart ached to have just one more hour of conversation with the old gent. He had been closer to his Uncle than he had been to his own Father. His Uncle was such a wise and compashionate man. His passing would be a true loss to the Venerable Libertarians, The Realm of Hibernia and the organisations he had participated in. In that moment the Communicator in his pocket started ringing. Byron answered it....

Hello, ok thank you doctor. I have a military transport waiting at the airport and a blackhawk helecopter on the roof waiting to take me home so I will be there in an hour. He ended the call. "Military Transport" he thought of the understatement. The VL402 Black light transport was a super massive Scramjet capable of traversing the world in 10 minutes. Its size emulated that of a warehouse and his mind boggled at the technology employed just to get it off the ground.

He Stood, Finished his coffee and turned to Georgias. The realms UN offices take up the west wing of the 40th floor in the UN Building. Lady Sophia Grey is my PA and she has reserved an office space for your nation if you wish to take it. He handed Georgias a card with sophies number on it.

On the 40th floor a workman took out a cloth. He polished the brass he had just hung on the Door of a sumptuious office. It read, "Office of the International Diplomatic Liaison."

Jeremy asks Neville for a jug of fine Irish Wiskey.

ooc: *cough*Neville's still on his not-so-binding Honeymoon*cough*

ic:
Hodgelett had got out a screwdriver of the non-alcoholic kind and was inspecting the 'Weapon-detection, removal and nullifying gizmo' that seemed to be malfunctioning again. "Violet, do you have any idea how this works?"

Violet had been staring after Byron with a concerned look on her face, but after a few seconds turned, shook her head and pointed towards a manual the size of the Yellow Pages before looking in Byron's direction again.

'Great, as if I wasn't sick of reading already.' Hodgelett thought, and poured out Jeremy's Whisky while reading page 1: 'Why you made an excellent choice in purchasing this machine.'
"Don't forget you can't ruin your voice in here Jezza" she added stiltedly as she speed read through the meaningless claptrap.

Jeremy thanked Hodgelett for the wiskey.

OOC: I believe Yelda is not bound by the Geneva conventions.

OOC: That doesn't make abducting a non-national from a public place any less an act of war, and it doesn't make any other diplomat in the bar any safer from Yelda's agents.

Muttering in a rather abashed Holt's ear, having ordered a fine Yeldan Ale, taking up the offer of the good Yeldan delegate, Otterby castigated his unfortunate subaltern for his stupidity.

"Idiot, you stood up in front of the whole Strangers Bar and said we were all doomed because we had been overrun by a shipment of Kirisubo kittens and told everyone to panic. Didn't you at least try and double check, which, had you done so, would have realised that it was a shipment of Kirisubo mittens and that the dispute had been a tax dispute causing outrage not a 'rampage' as you described it. Honestly Anthony, you really are stupid sometimes. Now apologise to your fellow members for having needlessly alarmed them".

"Sorry", Holt said, looking distincly withdrawn.

"There", said Otterby, looking somewhat mollified, "now go and complete that report on phasing out our agricultural subsidies".

The UN 24 hour news channel flickered away in the corner TV screens in the bar. No one was paying too much attention as usual. The immaculately coiffured Anchor paused, held his fingers to his ear and then delivered the Breaking News.

"And this just in it appears the King of the Venerable libertarians has died. We have just recieved a Report from the Region of the Realm of Hibernia and we go live to Bill Jonesly, Reporter for the Hibernian Chronicle News paper. Hi Bill what can you tell us?
Well Jack we have just recieved the following Notice from the Royal Palace, which while expected is quite a shock for the people of Venerable Libertarians. It reads..THE KING IS DEAD! LONG LIVE THE KING!

At 23:12 central VL time King James I passed to the next plain of existence. Prince Esheram Byron was present at the kings peaceful passing and witnessed the pronunciation. The Prime Minister then Proclaimed "The King is Dead! Long Live the King! Bowing to Prince Byron in recognition of the Princes Birth Right.

Flags were ordered to half mast and the Nation of Venerable Libertarians will be in mourning for a period of 4 days. The Kings body will lie in state for three days and on the fourth will be interred in the family mausoleum In the grounds of Gothic Cathedral in the capital, Libertaria. On the following sunrise the Regent will be crowned King of Venerable Libertarians and Benevolent Overlord of the Realm of Hibernia.
Nations wishing to send dignitaries to the Funeral and to pay their respects to the now deceased King and to attend the Coronation, Contact the office of the Minister for State.

That is as much as we have at the moment.

Well thank you Bill. Our thoughts and prayers are with you tonight and with Prince Byron on this sad passing."

The camera angle changes and the anchorman now changes his concerned compashionate look for one of happiness. "And now we go to Helen Churic for the Weather"

"Ye gods!" muttered Neville, who had been aimlessly watching the screen while polishing glasses, "I hope this doesn't mean our Prince Hal is going to turn into Henry V!"

There was a good chance of it, though. Byron had been showing alarming signs of seriousness lately -- not even taking part in Twister, forsooth!

Still, nothing like a good crisis to take a Barlord's mind off his tangled personal relationships (or the sand that was stuck annoyingly in the heel of his left sock, or the worry about whether Giordano would get back before the roses he'd ordered died).

So, what needed to be done? First, damp down any possible unseemly outbreaks ...

"Kick it," he counselled Hodgelett, watching her frustrated interaction with the Acme machine. "Percussive maintenance is the only thing it understands."
He allowed himself a brief moment of melancholy -- ah, why hadn't she accepted his marriage proposal? -- followed by a brief upsurge of hope (after all, he hadn't tried proposing un-marriage, as sanctioned by the Ubarlord).

Then there was that misunderstanding between Gurgle and the Yeldans, with which he should have been dealing when he was dallying. "Don't take it to heart," he assured the dragon. "It's a long-standing and quite friendly arrangement between Camaro 77 and Yelda, strictly between them only. It's just more fun when they do it with a bit of drama. You've heard people talk of Special relationships between nations? Well, that's theirs."

Now, let's see ... the assassin ... as usual, the Bar's customers were quite capable of dealing with minor crises such as that. The Sanryio kittens? A matter for the feline nations, who would surely resent outsiders shoving their paws in.

So, then; the King's death. Should he? Shouldn't he? Well, he'd do it if either of Dicey Riley's Dads died, or if, goddess forbid, Findhorn's Mother Mirrim was called home, or any other Bar habitue's rep or head of state carked it, so ...

"Gentlepersons of the UN, I hereby invoke the Glass on the Bar," Neville said solemnly. The Imperial Death-March from Star Wars began playing on the Musak.

The delegates mobbed the bar as funereally as they could. Each ordered two glasses of the most expensive drink they could stomach. One went down the gullet; the other was lined up, undrunk, on the Bar, with the muttered tribute, "Absent friends."

The number of glasses would be recorded and passed on to Byron. A sum equivalent to their value would be forwarded to whatever children's charity their now-Royal drinking partner chose. It was the least the delegates could do.

And the UN Gnomes would undoubtedly be at their most reverent later that night, when all was quiet, as they ritually disposed of the ceremonial drinks. Gnomes have a deep respect for both Tradition and Alcohol.

Stephanie managed to raise herself from the Twister mat just in time to see the news from the Realm of Hibernia.

"Byron's going to be King?" she muttered, amazed. "And I thought that was just baosting for the ladies! Hannah, I've got to go. I've known him for so long, who knows how many drinks we've bought each other here."

"That's fine," Hannah replied. "I expect Yssandra and Justine'll be there, but not Xavier. He's dealing with some massive court case. Personally, although I did like Byron, seeing him crowned isn't a good enough bribe for me to have to spend time with Yssandra and Engard. You go, I'll look after the UN business for the next little while."

And with her fellow Consul's support, Stephanie left the bar to go and see her friend become a monarch.

"do your thing to him Gurgle san" Kaigan says to the dragon refering to the assasin "and then we can let Angelina's people deal with him"

Kaigan didn't know what Gurgles thing was but he hoped it wasn't fatal.

The breaking news had drawn his attention and as he observed the barlords rite he wondered how he would react if the Kirisuban emperor died. Perhaps he should go to the funeral and leave Midori behind.

she would be back by then and could look after things on her own.

The door of the bar opens as John McKay, Bazalonia's Ambassador to the UN, enters. He glances at the TV showing the latest news of the death of the King of the Venerable libertarians, and looks around the bar and sees the assortment of people in the bar..

The Prime minister had appointed him to the position of Ambassador to the UN and had delved into the job as best he could involving himself with the draft proposal for Anti-drug trafficing proposal... but that is business.... he was here to relax.

He navigated his way to the bar and ordered a drink, a soft-drink, even though many Bazalonians enjoyed their beer, wine, port and other alcoholic drinks. John never liked any he tried and has since had stuck with either soft drinks or flavoured milks...

He payed for his drink, took a sip and looked around... he was looking for someone to talk to....

Otterby was shocked to hear the news on the television. It seemed extraodinary to be confronted with the thought that Byron would now become King.

It seemed very fitting, Byron had always seemed to have the right combination of regality and poise that you would expect in a monarch. Still, the death of King James was a sad event, he felt obliged to offer his sympathies to Byron and would insist that Compadria send a representative to the funeral.

OOC: Sorry, gurgle seemed like the appropriate term at the moment.

IC:

Angelina begins clutching various pressure points with the force, deep within the man's body.

"Now, how much are you to be paid for this, and why?"

The assassin looks at Angelina was unblemished hatred, and keeps his mouth shut.

"We can do this one of several ways. The first way is that you talk, and there's no pain. The second way is that I methodically crush every sensitive organ in your body with the force. The third way is that I poke a hole in your lungs and, well the details vary a bit on the third one, but the punchline remains the same. You die. Now, which way is it going to be?"

The assassin remains silent.

"Very well, we'll start with the second way."

Angelina closes her eyes, and the assassin begins screaming in agony.

The threat of a well aimed impact with a stilletto seemed to have frightened the machine into submission as it gave a splutter and squeak which sounded strangely like a squeal of fear. The abandoned gun on the floor turned a nice kid-friendly shade of neon orange with a yellow barrel. 'Super soaker 100' the label proudly announced in cheerful green bubble writing. Kaigan's dagger looked elegant in white jade - hopefully a temporary change for his sake.
However, the innate powers of UN delegates seem to be something Acme hadn't accounted for.
"Welcome back Neville, nice trip? By the way...do you think that young woman should be doing that in here, not all of our nations are that happy with torture."
A glance in Violet's direction showed her not serving the customers waiting to make their double orders, but looking wistfully at one of the televisions.
"You know...I think I'll stay a little longer back here, looks like you'll need a hand. In fact, I think one of your staff needs a holiday."

ooc: "324th in the world for Nicest Citizens" perhaps that's why there's the attraction? ;)

Gorgias watched the television screen and nodded. He knew that it had been only a matter of time until the good King James' passing. He wondered what the reaction in The-Republic was to this; he assumed the traditional flags at half-mast, the speeches from dignitaries, and the Philosopher-King's attendance of King James' funeral.

At the sound of Neville's call, Gorgias leaned over the bar and ordered two glasses of Assyrtiko; not the most expensive drink, but the wine Prince Byron had generously bought for him upon their first meeting. It seemed fitting.

Well Jack we have just recieved the following Notice from the Royal Palace, which while expected is quite a shock for the people of Venerable Libertarians. It reads..THE KING IS DEAD! LONG LIVE THE KING!

At 23:12 central VL time King James I passed to the next plain of existence. Prince Esheram Byron was present at the kings peaceful passing and witnessed the pronunciation. The Prime Minister then Proclaimed "The King is Dead! Long Live the King! Bowing to Prince Byron in recognition of the Princes Birth Right.Jack Riley's jaw dropped as he watched the story unfold on the TV screen. One of the most ardent supporters of the Protection of Dolphins Act repeal was dead. Immediately he broke out his cell phone and started to dial up ex-President Frank Grey, who served in the '70s but of late had been assigned the task of schmoozing King James during the Federal Republic's attempt to repeal PoDA.

Mary, his caretaker, picked up. "Oh, hi, Jack," she said cheerfully. "He's just watching 'Wheel of Fortune' now. I'll put him on -- just be sure to speak very clearly; he's lost much of his hearing over the past couple months."

A short pause.

"Huh?" squawked the elderly voice.

"President Gray!" Riley said very slowly and deliberately. "This is Jack! I hate to tell you this, but King James is dead!"

"Huh?" demanded the old man.

"King James! He's DEAD!" Riley said, raising his voice.

"Who's in dreads?! I bet they look awful!"

"Not 'dread'!! DEAD!!!"

"No, Mary ain't wed; she's still single," said Grey.

"No, not we--"

"Who is this, anyway?"

"This is Jack Riley, sir! I just saw on TV that King James is dead!!"

"Huh?"

"He's DEAD!! DEAD!!"

"Who??"

"KING JAMES!!"

"Oh, howdy, King. How's it going?"

"Uh, I'm fine," stammered Riley. "Screw the dolphins!"