We at the NotS
really must apologise to our lovely readership for
the general lack of March NotS. We would promise it
won't happen again, but given the fact you should
never make a promise you can't keep...well, maybe if
we just told you what happened to us...Step
back in time a few months with us, okay?
We thought we'd
successfully put the February edition of the NotS to
bed (actually, we're still not sure if we tucked it
up right...but it's in the Archives if you really
need to look), and the ENTIRE staff felt we'd done
good, and fancied popping out for a drink. After a
moment of deciding where we should go, we opted for
the Temple of Sensual Awareness. We know the bar,
"The Dance Macabre," is run by probably the
best bartender this side of the Shrinedom, and the
drinks one finds there can be drunk nowhere else.
Well, not that we've heard of, anyway. So,
destination firmly in mind, we all set off for what
we thought would be a good night out, well deserved
by all. How wrong can a pack of journalists be?
As it turns out, very
wrong. We started our time in the bar gathered round
several large tables of an antique oak variety, each
drinking what we believed to be the harmless mix of a
Cocnut Cocktail. We managed to lose track of time
rather quickly, but as Cerberus is a willing host 24
hours, 7 days a week, he had no objections to our
purchasing further beverages. Of course, by the time
we'd had five Lurve Brews each, and moved on to 'The
Drink of the Devil'* we realised that we were indeed
having a good time out. Cerberus was even kind enough
to halt the torturous karaoke sessions, and put
Queen's "Greatest Hits" (1 and 2)
on the decks, thereby enticing us out onto the
dancefloor...
We danced a lot,
made ourselves completely knackered, but this is the
not the reason for the lack of March NotS. Oh, no.
What got us into trouble was when one of our group
(remaining unnamed as we've been informed by our
lawyers not to point fingers....) decided to
pick a fight with a 7'8 tall Daemon barkeep; not a
good idea by anyone's reckoning. Our host had, up to
that point, been fairly forgiving of our behaviour
(he really didn't ask us to pay for the
damages the bottle display behind the bar suffered
during our attempt at a bottle shy game), but a
4-foot 102 year old jabbing at his thigh with a biro
pen was more than enough to cause Cerberus to lose
his temper. And boy, does he ever lose his temper in
a vicious style...
Actually, all he did
was call the rozzers on us, which was fair enough in
hindsight. We had effectively destroyed the bar, and
behaved in a manner unbecoming to a
professional...So, we had several of the worst
offenders remanded into custody for being childish
and deviant, and the rest of us going home, heads
hung in shame (or maybe heads hung because we
couldn't lift the weight due to excess alcohol
consumption...and bracing yourself for a vomit attack
is never a bad thing).
This is the reason
the March edition of the NotS never happened. We
apologise to all our readership for our naughty
behaviour, and hope it never happens again.
For anyone who's
interested, Bob the Beneficent is now being forced
into attending AA meetings for his, ah, habit...
*A beverage we
thought was banned by the Shrinemaster due to its
extreme potency, and uncanny ability to bestow
"untold abilities" upon the drinker, but we
never found out in particular what these abilities
were. If the abilities are making the drinker vomit
violently whilst attempting to sing "It's
Raining Men" accompanied by the most dodgiest
karaoke machine ever, well...'nuff said.
- Jairus Rosh.