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Bar Wars: Mornington goes for a stroll

It was another busy day at Brunel Hall…mostly with folks from Bump.

No matter how hard the urchins scrubbed at the sign, no matter how long they scrubbed, the grafitti wouldnt come off.

“Aye Morningtun…paint has seeped right into the brick that has…you’ll need ta paint it over!”

That was the advice from old Barrington, one of the dock workers at Port Babbage.

The grafitti had spread to Cuffs and to The Vole the last Mornington had heard, and not only that but a shipment of Chivas 25 Gold Label had went missing the previous day…which then opened a certain door for Mornington.

The previous day, he had spend a good 2 hours in Cuffs, explaining and reasoning as to why…Emerson…and not the old washed out duffer of a sailor Cadmus was responsible for not only the grafitti, but for the theft of the Chivas as well.  As Mornington walked under cover of darkness to The Gangplank carrying a bucket full of pitch tar he could still remember clearly what he said to The Melniks, Jed Dagger and the other folks at Cuffs.

“So…Cuffs gets its customers from the sailors and inboung transport ships right?”

…to which everyone nodded…

“…and The Durkin and Brunel Hall gets its customers inbound from the airship parking mast over at pallisade right?”

…everyone nodded again, and Jed interjected that the hotel also got some custom from the station…

…its was the final line however that hooked them…

“Well…here’s the thing, before Cuffs and Brunel Hall opened, it was the gangplank that got all that custom!”

The penny dropped.

Mornington knew it was Cadmus.  He knew it was one of the old washed out sailors henchmen that painted the grafitti, and the transport ship captain gave Mornington a very detailed description of Cadmus as the theif of the Chivas.

…but this is war…Ahabs Bain was never really a contender against Brunel Hall.  The Gangplank however, thats a different story.

As Mornington walked up to the front door of The Gangplank with his bucket of pitch tar, he tried the door, it was locked of course.  With some grace and fortitude he carried the half bucket of pitch down into the sewers, and made his way out under the Gangplank.  After pouring himself a large double scotch he proceeded to unscrew all of the beer tap filters.

Dipping each filter into the pitch tar and wiping off the excess, he replaced each filter back in the tap.

He then removed the pump mechanism of the 3 top selling beers…and dipped the entire mechanism into the same pitch tar bucket, wiping off the excess he replaced it all, gave the taps a nice shine…and walked back down into the sewer. 

By the time Emerson and Junie opened back up, the pitch would have set solid…totally runing the entire pump mechanism of every single beer tap in the Gangplank.

He left something behind though, just one small thing as a sort of
clue.  An empty bottle of Chivas 25 Gold Label, one that was laying around for a few months under the bar in Brunel, no doubt the word of the
theft of Morningtons shipment would have reached Emerson…and Emerson
and Junie will no doubt pin the blame for the fouling of the beer taps
squarley on Cadmus.

As far as Mornington was concerned…this was just the start.  Tomorrow, he would make his way to the old washed out sailors pub.


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  1. Brother Malus Brother Malus August 1, 2012

    Junie’s eyes widened at the smell of kerosene that hit her when she opened the bar the next morning. 

    “Hi Junie,” said Martin. “We’re out of lamp oil.” Martin had emptied all the lamps he could find into a tub in the basement, which now held the disassembled bar tap. He hoped Junie would not find the pan he had used to put the tap in when he had set it on top of the stove to soften up the tar. 

    Junie cast her eyes around the bar, which always seemed to clean since Martin started working there. One place on the bar seemed emptier than it should have been. “Where is the bar tap?”

    “I’m cleaning it out. I think one of the kegs went off. We got some old plug taps, right? In case I can’t get it back together before tonight? I’ll set up a bench. Maybe we should have a sale on what is left in the kegs, just to get rid of them. The sailors won’t mind.”

    “Martin, what are you up to now?”

    “Do you think the militia people next door would have some phosphoric acid I could borrow?”


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