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Bar Wars: A Whale of a Good Time

Scottie and Sky held their breath as much as possible as they crept into the stench-filled, darkened warehouse which connected to the bar known as Ahab’s Bane. As they carefully made their way across the large room towards the bar Scottie said in a hushed tone, “What the?” Sky quickly covered her mouth to keep from bursting with laughter.

Even in the dark they could tell that the walls were a shocking shade of pink and the bar was covered in some frilly decorations. Sailors may be an odd breed, but they knew better than to count that as typical.

“Someone got here first, I see,” Scottie commented with a smile before turning his attention back into the warehouse. Sky turned around with him, saying offhand, “I think the Cap’n is going to be in store for at least a few surprises in the morning.”

Scottie climbed the vat storing the whale oil, slipping once in awhile from the greasy ichor that seemed to cling to the sides. He perched precariously along the top and motioned to Sky. She shrugged off a coil of rubber tubing from her shoulder and tossed it up to him. He caught it deftly and uncoiled it a bit before submerging one end into the oily goo.

He fed the tube in slowly, giving the oil time to fill the tube until he came to the other end. He pushed that under too, waiting out the air bubbles. When he was satisfied that he’d gotten them all, he placed his thumb over the end and withdrew it from the soup, his hand and the tube covered in whale oil.

Sky climbed the vat and perched on the edge with him as he began to descend. She fed the tube to him as he climbed down, careful to keep his thumb on the end. Once on the ground and below the bottom of the vat, he let go. Oil began to run from the end, slowly at first, but it picked up speed as the siphon effect took hold.

Scottie and Sky let go of the hose. It would stay for now and a large portion of the greasy substance should spill out on the floor. Sky climbed down and they both stood back, watching a puddle of whale oil grow on the floor. They stood there admiring their handiwork when suddenly it hit them: the smell. They had been so focused on the task at hand they forgot to avoid it. Sky started to gag as Scottie pinched his nose and pulled her towards the door.

They ran past the bloody carcases at the back of the building and deeply inhaled as they reached the street. “Mmm, good, clean soot. Just what the ol’ lungs needed,” Scottie quipped. Sky sniffed, and sniffed, and sniffed some more. “I still smell it! Dammit, another outfit to torch? I’m gonna run out quickly if this keeps up…” Scottie laughed at his wife and took her hand in his, the whale oil still in his palm squelching against hers, “What a shame.” His grin said otherwise.

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