[mvisconte]

Ooohhh...

Pshrynk? Whoa... did you see what hit me? I think this headache will last a while.

Where am I? This isn't the lounge, is it? Why am I on the floor, and who's the guy next to me? GREAT SCOT! It's LAZYSCOT. Is he gonna be OK?

Zelda? Wow. Good to see you... you'll never guess, I just had this wild dream. You were in it!

The last thing I remember was this guy, sitting at the bar, reading this book. Interesting looking fellow, quite tall... pointed chin, yellowish eyes, small teeth... you always notice the teeth.

Anyway, I was just kind of looking him over, you know, distrustfully, and he SPOKE to me... nobody speaks to anybody where I'm from until they've been introduced.

Makes getting waited on pretty hard, actually.

I know some couples married with grown children that don't talk -- never been introduced. Anyway...

So, I look shocked... kind of like this (attempted look of surprise and shock, and maybe a little chagrin, with a smidge of vermouth) -- you know, it's kind of hard doing impressions from the floor, can you help me up?

So he says "It's the horns, isn't it? Makes me look demonic. No, no, I know, I get that a lot. Typecast, that's what I am. You don't know me! I could be very trustworthy. You're just letting your petty bourgeoisie attitudes blind you to the potential beauty in a fellow imaginary creature. THAT, my friend, is PREJUDICE!"

Now, the last time someone talked to me like that and said "my friend", I came up several hundred dollars shorter.

I detached his hand from my wallet and moved about a step away. Didn't seem to bother him in the least... kept right on talking. Said something about calling the ICLU on me... I didn't know imaginary creatures HAD a union. Asked me if I'd buy him a drink. Of course, I refused... I don't know him! Besides, I didn't get my own drink yet.

He offered to buy ME a drink, and when I glared at him, he had my wallet again. I hate imaginary creatures, always pulling that appear/disappear/poofing stuff. Hate it, I tell you. I snatched it back, and stuffed it back in my pocket and as I was pulling my hand out, he laughed and had my wallet in his hand again.

"LISTEN," I say, "I'm not a violent man, but if you don't . . . "

Then he points over my shoulder and says "LOOK! A DISTRACTION!"

I kinda turned my head, you know, looking over there, and in the back of my mind, there's this little voice... pretty loud for a little voice -- much louder than my normal ones. "NO!!! DON'T TURN YOUR B---" I had to strain to hear what it was saying, because about then, the floor was trading placed with the walls, and the ceiling was trying to get into the act...

well, the next thing I know is... wait... where's my wallet?