Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude
Where Great Intelligence Goes To Be Insulted

Saturday, 4 February 2017

Filthie's Saturday Speakeasy - Speak VERY Easy, Boys...


Cabin fever's setting in up here in the Great White North. So I'm spitting in the beer glasses and shining 'em up for the customers when the front door opens and this guy walks in from the 50's.




Then this band starts walking in - a BIG band. These guys are in suits and tuxedos. What the shit? I'm starting to get nervous and look down behind the bar to make sure my trusty double barrel 12 bore is handy. Then George Bush, Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld walk in! What gives?

So the first guy in walks over while the band is setting up, sits down opposite WC - who is politely minding his own business for once - and says, "Young man, you either need a haircut and clean clothes, or you need to leave."

Oh chit.

WC goes, "Buddy, you need to take a long hard suck on my -" He never finished. A guy with a clarinet clocked WC clueless and he went over like a sack of spuds - out cold! Well then the place goes nuts! WL and Quartermain are in like a pistol shot and the fat guy with the tuba drop kicks WL, spins on a dime and boots Quartermain right in the nads! Two down! Uncle Bob wakes up and sees Dubya - and loses his chit! "What in HELL is the Bush Crime Family doing here? Why, you limp wristed pussy..."

Duby was in Bob's space in three strides and slugs him right in the gut and doubles him over, and then brings his knee up in Bob's face! Bob isn't down but he's out of commission, so Cheney wades in, gets one hand on Bob's collar and the other on his belt - and gives him the bum's rush out the back door! BW slams his beer and scampers out when Rummy gave him a dirty look - and then sets himself down at the table BW just vacated. The place went so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Dubya saunters over to me at the bar and I am wetting my pants in fright! I look at the shotgun under the bar and measure my chances ... and Dubya says, "Mr. Filthie - we're draining your swamp. We've come in and politely introduced ourselves, the band is setting up, the trash has been taken out - and it's time for a sociable drink while we wait for the ladies to arrive. I'll have a chandy and Dick and Rummy will have a martini and an old fashioned respectively..."

"Mr. President," I snivelled, "My customers drink whatever's in the jerry can! Some of 'em drink out of the toilet! I dunno what those drinks are, sir....!!!" Welp - ol' Dubya just smiled and says, " Help him out, Dick. Lawrence - why don't you and Roger set us up with some music while I go over some things with the barkeep..."






"Aaaaaaaahhhhhh... howd'ya like that, Mr. Filthie? A little RESPEPCTABLE music, and even a dive like this gains a little respectability...!"

"Yes, Mr. President!" I said dutifully. So Dubya frowns and says, "Now, Glen, we need to clean up a few things round here before the women arrive..."

Women? In this dump?!?! Holy mackaral!! A few were coming in the front door already!!! Ladies! In dresses! Holy sh---- holy crap! In gowns! All of a sudden the seniors are on the floor cutting a rug and the dive is almost shaking! There were formally clad seniors everywhere!




Who woulda thunk old folks could shake a dive like this? Next thing I know, Cheney and Rummy had a bubble machine perkin' and glubbin' !!! They even had the lights on a friggin DIMMER switch! The lights went down ... then the grandest lady I've seen anywhere steps up to the the mic - and stopped my heart:




We have some new rules round the Speakeasy, boys. There's a strictly enforced age limit: anyone under the age of 85 will be ejected from the premisis post haste! No gobbing, swearing and by Godfrey, you better take off your hat or else!!! There's even a dress code in effect! No hip waders, pants are mandatory as are shoes! (Bob and I are gonna have to clean up our acts!)

Filthie's Speakeasy is now a haven for old geezers!!! And ya know... maybe that ain't so bad!



Have a good Saturday all!

8 comments:

  1. Wow! You really ARE getting cabin fever!

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    1. When I got back from the range, Gorges - my guns froze over with a rime of frost when I brought them in the house. The friggin dawgs are air cooled and as soon as I put up my irons they dragged me right back out!
      I would LIKE a little cabin time so I plunked myself down in front of the puter and published my memoirs... :)

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  2. I'd like to see 'em try that when I'm stone cold sober. I'll be back.

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    1. You're always welcome WL - the next one is on the house!
      :)

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  3. Should have washed that copper tubing out first Glenn before you started that basement distillery... just sayin'. :o)

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    1. That's where all the nutrients are, CM!

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