The journey in wasn't the greatest you've ever had. For a Wednesday night, the train was remarkably active, The chitter-chatter of the passengers swirling to make a mist of hissing. Something of a blur, it felt like a state of true consciousness was within reach, but never quite caught.
For reasons you fail to understand, the driver announced over the speakers of the opening of the bar. Puzzled, your group looks at one another. Why is a train driver telling us about this place?
It confuses but also excites. It must be something truly special if it's getting such a wide advertisement.
The train screeches and wiggles to the beat of the tracks. The clickety clack reminds you of your favourite song that week, and you get carried away by singing it out loud. The night takes a good turn as your friends also join in....
When you arrive outside, there's a group of people already waiting for the doors to open. You glance around and examine the scene. It doesn't look like a new place, the windows are worn and there's a quiet ambiance.
There's a cobblestone passageway that leads to a line of big garbage bins, with a smell that was only designed to reject all visitors, and what seems like a rather large amount of flies circling around them.
Hell, what does it matter? You've had a tough week. The boss put the blame on you when the project missed a deadline, despite it being no fault of your own. You shudder when you remember the lambasting you received on behalf of senior management.
Your days could be numbered. Maybe it'll all blow over; cold, refreshing beer is needed to assess the situation with your friends.
An immense crash snaps you out of your funk, and you realize the bar doors have been opened. The strangest organism appears into view from the smoke drenched room.
.....What?!
"I am Kingsley."
Silence.
"You will enjoy yourself in this bar."
Perhaps you're still asleep.
"Are there any further questions?"
While you're busy pinching yourself to wake up, another person stands up, turning from his friends. He's giggling, and the friends are nudging him on with nods of encouragement and smiles.
"Yeah, uh....Is this one of those cool bars with water cocktails?!"
The group erupts in laughter, you can't help but to crack a wry smile. Considering what you're staring at, though, stranger things are possible.
The sun-thing turns to the chap, and snaps his fingers. Suddenly a burst of lightning charges through the clouds and strikes the clown. No screams, just a desperate sigh and a crash into the ground. Smoke departs his burned jacket.
His stunned friends gather round the corpse to see his flip..
You pinch harder.
"Put him on the pile." The sun-god is emotionless, and some men and women arrive behind him to do his bidding, taking the body away through the cobblestone passageway.
"It is time for you all to enter. You will enjoy yourselves. There will be treats. Come."
You're bleeding. The pinching isn't working
