‘Open a bar, they said. Somewhere quiet, they said. You might learn something.‘
So I did.
It took a lot of hard work and a lot of bribes but finally at a little after 8pm on the 3/2/3299 this message flashed across every screen on the station:
‘Good evening and welcome to the Thargoid and Fer-de-Lance’
and after a quiet start, we’ve had over 45,000 visitors, and our name has spread across this sector of the galaxy.
I like to think its the quiet ambience, the profusion of dark corners and the efficiency of my staff people come back for. Or the selection of fine liqueurs, the 4-d pool table and the craic.
I would be lying. It’s the weird and wonderful adventures of my regulars that bring you here.
Sometimes I regret sponsoring Frank, sometimes I think Minerva should move her medical facility here and sometimes I wonder why Psykokow can’t wash his own onesies.(And people, I’m arachnophobic – who thought it was a good idea to let Boris in?)
But rarely do I regret opening this bar. Very rarely. Daily. Oh God.
As I said that day: we’re pretty informal here, just order a drink when you come in and make yourself at home. Just don’t sit in Sheldon’s spot.
Welcome to the best little bar near Barnard’s Star. I’ll just put
‘Say Fer-de-Lance For Me’ – ‘The Drifters
on the Jukebox and let you discover where it all went wrong.