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Bars Wars: Cuffs Wiggyfish Supreme

Mornington had spent the last 30 minutes picking up and throwing out shovel fulls of mushy gherkins.  The problem with this latest prank is he couldn’t pin it on anyone.  Thanks to Jed Dagger, everyone knows Muirsheen Durkin as “The Mushy Gherkin”.

He had heard rumblings from City Hall earlier today.  Someone was leafing through the entire row of record shelves in the Port Authority office.  Records for probably the past year, which would have also included the forged records that Mornington had made during last years….incident…with the plague.

Someone was up to something.

“Couldn’t be Emerson” Vic thought to himself as he shovelled another bunch of Gherkins into the trash bin.

“Couldn’t be that old duffer Cadmus….he probably can’t read” he said to himself as he carried another full trashbin of gherkins over to the municipal dump and emptied it.

“Awwwww hell it could be anyone…”

Vic kept thinking of it over and over again.  The only conclusion he came to was either Jed herself…or The Melniks.

Remembering what Charlie said about The Melniks when they was in Ravilla for that short holiday, he wouldnt put it past one of them to go to the Port Authority and try and dig up some scandal about Mornington, or maybe some scandal about another bar owner.  The Melniks was sneaky that way.  They also had the contacts in the Port to aquire a large shipment of pickled gherkins in a matter of a day or so.

For the past day and a half, Mornington was…cooking something…in the upper floor of his house further down Academy.  He was planning to use it against old Cadmus, but decided it would be better suited to get back at the regular pub of the person responsible for naming The Durkin the Mushy Gherkin…and Jed’s semi regular haunt…was Cuffs.

He opened the door to the upper floor kitchen, and then turned the gas off which was heating up the pressure cooker he had stashed away.  He held his breath, and lifted the lid.  The pungency of it still made his eyes water.  Wiggyfish entrails, bones and several heads, stewed under pressure for a day and a half.  The ‘soup’ was a dark, dark purple colour, he put a pair of thick heavy gloves on, filled two vials full of the rancid stuff and walked under the cover of darkness to Cuffs.

When reaching cuffs, which usually had its door wide open, he tipped one vial into the barrel of rum which the sailors loved to drink.  The second vial he tipped small amounts into every single bottle of whiskey on the bar.  The remainders of the vial he tipped into the espresso machine sitting in the corner.

Once he was finished, he removed the now foul smelling gloves and tossed them into the sea of Port Babbage, chuckled to himself, and wandered back to Brunel Hall.

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  1. Jedburgh30 Dagger Jedburgh30 Dagger August 1, 2012

    Murky. MURKY. I never ever said mushy.

  2. Scottie Melnik Scottie Melnik August 1, 2012

    I think the first time I heard the “Mushy Gherkin”, it was from Gil. *eyes the Sneaky Vole*

    • Junie Ginsburg Junie Ginsburg August 1, 2012

      Blackberry, at Miss Books rez-day party last year, right after Vic opened the new bar.

      I remember because it was that conversation that led to my revelation that pickled air kraken tentacles would be GOOOOOD.  I promptly made up a batch and sent some to Blackberry for Huxley Hall.


  3. Scottie Melnik Scottie Melnik August 1, 2012

    Scottie stepped up into Cuffs and was nearly run over by a regular who was bolting from the tavern. The man was holding his hand over his mouth and making a mad dash for the dock. Scottie winced as he watched the man empty his dinner into the waters below.

    “Too much rum.” he mumbled to himself, entering the small establishment. It was unusually devoid of patrons, which was okay with Scottie considering he’d spent the better part of the day combing through the stacks of files Barney had already delivered. He could use some time to drink in peace.

    He sniffed at the air and his nose wrinkled. Was it his imagination or was the wretched aroma of wiggyfish that usually permeated the air even stronger? And even more wretched?

    He shook his head, thinking a few glasses of absinthe would take his mind of the stench. He approached the counter and pulled the cork on the absinthe. The smell nearly knocked him back. He quickly replaced the cork and growled. Someone had messed with his absinthe? Again!?

    His mind raced as he tried to figure out who may have purported this latest act of war. He reached for a bottle of whiskey and pulled the cork. The stench of this bottle did knock him back. The bottle shook in his hand and he screamed out.


    • Sky Melnik Sky Melnik August 2, 2012

      Sky took a running leap over the side of the roof, catching the edge with her hand and flipping inside the open wall. Landing with a pronounced thud, she drew her sword and looked around wildly. Scottie never screamed like that unless there was blood involved.

      Sky slowly lowered her sword when she saw there was no immediate danger of death or dismemberment. She gave Scottie a puzzled look, “Wha-” Scottie cut off Sky’s question by shoving the atrocious smelling bottle towards her nose. Sky gagged at the scent. She coughed, trying to regain her composure, “Someone….is soooo going….to pay for this….”

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