NationStates

A small landmine nudges open the bar door and rolls its way to the center of the establishment.

"Ey, Neville! Long time no see. Whiskey, something strong."

The landmine rotates slightly, in the direction of Steph. "Ooooh, look at that! Someone's going for a fastball!"

With a whole bunch going on in private and a whole lot more going on in the World Assembly Furettium spent a lot of time he wanted to be more active doing just the opposite. Though recently it was not hard to miss that the bar was more active than normal, which was always a fun thing to go check out, following behind the sapient landmine... That alone took him back to some older fun resolution debates, a happy memory to start this time in the bar off with. Seeing Herby looking to be in some mechanical trouble caught his eye next, he figured Pink and his big blue box would be working on fixing any troubles there like he had done before. He made sure to wave to Helen and Gerald, he had not seen the two of them in a real long time despite knowing that Helen had come back, though they were looking to be busy with their conversation. Though how the old little nostalgic events seemed to be coming back even though the Ferret was not a big part of the establishment. He went to the bar counter with the other patrons to get a glass of milk and enjoy the show.

Herby wrote:Two men, both dressed in denim coveralls, enter the bar. One, a tanned, mustachioed man, is carrying a large toolbox; the other, a pale, graying man, is carrying a laptop computer. They briefly look around the bar; the older man, spying Number 53 in the corner, taps the shoulder of the younger man and points. They approach the Beetle. “Doesn’t look too bad,” says the older man with a German accent. The younger man drops his toolbox, opens it, and fishes around inside; he brings forth a keyless fob and presses a button. “Mierda,” he says as nothing happens. “It’s all right,” says the older man, “I expected we have to do it the hard way.” He places his laptop on Herby’s hood and waits for it to boot up.

"Whoa, WHOA!" Drane exclaims as the German guy plops the laptop onto Herby's hood. "Careful there, you'll scratch her finish!"

An older man, dressed in a suit, walks into the bar and sits down at the booth. He shuffles around some papers, shaking his head, apparently lost or confused.

"Ah, yes. Now, who am I again?"

OOC: forgot the name of my IC character in my absence, so I'll probably create a new one.

Herby wrote:The German lifts up the laptop and shows its bottom to Drane. “Felt. It is made for sensitive surfaces.” He gently places it back down. He runs his hand along Number 53’s fender and pushes a hidden button. A small port on the hood pops open. He plugs the laptop into the port and types on commands. He stops to read the screen. “Verdammt,” he says. “Not good. Not good.” As he types in more commands, the younger man says to Drane, “Amigo. What happened?”

"She's been catatonic all day. But every few minutes, she would beep. I mean, beep, not like a car horn, beep like a computer starting up. But just a few minutes ago, she stopped doing that, and instead she beeped three long beeps. Like, beeeeeeep, beeeeeeep, beeeeeeep."

He waits for a moment, allowing the men to work, but then asks, "So... can you fix her?"

Kaboomlandia wrote:An older man, dressed in a suit, walks into the bar and sits down at the booth. He shuffles around some papers, shaking his head, apparently lost or confused.

"Ah, yes. Now, who am I again?"

While Herby was busy getting yet another repair another piece of nostalgia came walking right through the door. While Furettium could not really see the man from the counter to make sure that it was really him, the Ferret recognized the familiar smell. "Ambassador John Key is that you now, defenestration of fellow ambassadors finally giving you amnesia?"

Imperial Polk County wrote:

Herby wrote:The German lifts up the laptop and shows its bottom to Drane. “Felt. It is made for sensitive surfaces.” He gently places it back down. He runs his hand along Number 53’s fender and pushes a hidden button. A small port on the hood pops open. He plugs the laptop into the port and types on commands. He stops to read the screen. “Verdammt,” he says. “Not good. Not good.” As he types in more commands, the younger man says to Drane, “Amigo. What happened?”

"She's been catatonic all day. But every few minutes, she would beep. I mean, beep, not like a car horn, beep like a computer starting up. But just a few minutes ago, she stopped doing that, and instead she beeped three long beeps. Like, beeeeeeep, beeeeeeep, beeeeeeep."

He waits for a moment, allowing the men to work, but then asks, "So... can you fix her?"

”Ja,” says the older man, “she will be okay. The worst case we reformat her neural network and download her last backup. Manny, go inside, see if she has her backup. Should be in the glove compartment.” He presses a button on his laptop and the doors unlock. The younger man enters from the passenger side, leans in, and pulls out a very slim black box that’s tethered to the car. He disconnects it and hands it to the older man, who slides it into the laptop’s port. He taps in a command. “Tsch. Typical. She hasn’t backed up in almost a year. Okay, Manny, plug her back in.” After the black box is plugged back in, a button is pressed on the laptop. Ten seconds later.... Beep. A low hum. A click. And the internal combustion engine comes to life.

Mmmmmm.... mmmmmm..... Mamma?

Kaboomlandia wrote:An older man, dressed in a suit, walks into the bar and sits down at the booth. He shuffles around some papers, shaking his head, apparently lost or confused.

"Ah, yes. Now, who am I again?"

OOC: forgot the name of my IC character in my absence, so I'll probably create a new one.

OOC: Your last IC post in the GA forum was attributed to a guy named Miller.

---

Imperial Polk County wrote:

Herby wrote:The German lifts up the laptop and shows its bottom to Drane. “Felt. It is made for sensitive surfaces.” He gently places it back down. He runs his hand along Number 53’s fender and pushes a hidden button. A small port on the hood pops open. He plugs the laptop into the port and types on commands. He stops to read the screen. “Verdammt,” he says. “Not good. Not good.” As he types in more commands, the younger man says to Drane, “Amigo. What happened?”

"She's been catatonic all day. But every few minutes, she would beep. I mean, beep, not like a car horn, beep like a computer starting up. But just a few minutes ago, she stopped doing that, and instead she beeped three long beeps. Like, beeeeeeep, beeeeeeep, beeeeeeep."

He waits for a moment, allowing the men to work, but then asks, "So... can you fix her?"

Steph wanders amiably back into the bar (shut up, time works weird here, and having Steph₁ pause to check on her friends while a holy-water balloon flies through the air makes even less sense than a time-loop-doubled Steph₂ happening along. Rupert Pink, help a brother out here!). She looks at the mechanics, back at Drane, and back toward Herby again.

"Yo, everything OK? She been quiet for a while, I figured she just ran outta gas again or something. I ain't likin' the look of that computer setup."

Herby wrote:Mmmmmm.... mmmmmm..... Mamma?

"Oh, OK. Nah, we're good. This is... Well, not normal, but within precedent." Steph raises her hand, and her voice. "Hey, can I get a giant Märzen lager over here? Preferably delivered by a girl in an Oktoberfest getup, but we won't be picky."

Damn, double-ninja'd

Herby wrote:Mmmmmm.... mmmmmm..... Mamma?

Gerald, who has recently lent his attention to the two people operating on Herby, frowns. "Oh dear, that's not good. I'm pretty sure that's well over a year old. Have you yet discovered the cause of the ambassador's malfunctions?"

Sierra Lyricalia wrote:"Oh, OK. Nah, we're good. This is... Well, not normal, but within precedent." Steph raises her hand, and her voice. "Hey, can I get a giant Märzen lager over here? Preferably delivered by a girl in an Oktoberfest getup, but we won't be picky."

"A well-endowed girl," adds Gerald, still concerned for Herby.

Ferret Civilization wrote:

Kaboomlandia wrote:An older man, dressed in a suit, walks into the bar and sits down at the booth. He shuffles around some papers, shaking his head, apparently lost or confused.

"Ah, yes. Now, who am I again?"

While Herby was busy getting yet another repair another piece of nostalgia came walking right through the door. While Furettium could not really see the man from the counter to make sure that it was really him, the Ferret recognized the familiar smell. "Ambassador John Key is that you now, defenestration of fellow ambassadors finally giving you amnesia?"

"Key got fired a long time ago for circumstances I no longer remember. I am Terry Miller."

Miller walks up to the bar, orders a beer, and drinks it down.

OOC: thanks for the reminder SL

Kaboomlandia wrote:"Key got fired a long time ago for circumstances I no longer remember. I am Terry Miller."

Miller walks up to the bar, orders a beer, and drinks it down.

"Huh, guess that explains never seeing him around. Well sorry to confuse you for someone else, and pleasure to meet you Terry."

OOC: So much for having fun with faulty memory, ha.

Welcome back Kaboom!

Herby wrote:“Tsch. Typical. She hasn’t backed up in almost a year. Okay, Manny, plug her back in.”

"Is yous saying she gonna forget she's got rocket pushing power?" The Chief Inshpekshuuner decided that it was perhaps the safest course of action to not be standing on the Rumbly Car's hood, and instead moved to the bar counter, his fur slightly fuzzed.

Herby wrote:Mmmmmm.... mmmmmm..... Mamma?

Drane frowns. "Please tell me she's not talking to me."

Sierra Lyricalia wrote:"Oh, OK. Nah, we're good. This is... Well, not normal, but within precedent." Steph raises her hand, and her voice. "Hey, can I get a giant Märzen lager over here? Preferably delivered by a girl in an Oktoberfest getup, but we won't be picky."

Wallenburg wrote:"A well-endowed girl," adds Gerald, still concerned for Herby.

"I still have my Halloween cost... umm. Never mind."

Herby wrote:Mmmmmm.... mmmmmm..... Mamma?

Sierra Lyricalia wrote:"Oh, OK. Nah, we're good. This is... Well, not normal, but within precedent." Steph raises her hand, and her voice. "Hey, can I get a giant Märzen lager over here? Preferably delivered by a girl in an Oktoberfest getup, but we won't be picky."

Wallenburg wrote:"A well-endowed girl," adds Gerald, still concerned for Herby.

Ambassador Pink was dumbfounded. A memory crash. At least it explained the beeping. As he turned back towards the TARDIS, in hopes of finding a potentially useful component, he was stunned to see what appeared to be a Barvarian barmaid before him. The hologram gestured towards the TARDIS and placed a finger over its lips before approaching the bar to retrieve the requested drink.
Even more baffled, Pink simply continued, not even knowing how to respond.

Meanwhile, his guests noticed a much smaller detail. "Is it just me, or is that a ferret with a glass of milk?" Jack wondered, unintentionally loudly.

With the first short interaction out of the way without too much fun Furettium looked back at Herby, then at Pink, "Come on Pink you have dealt with this before, have you forgotten?" Though before he could wait for a reply one of his buddies caught his attention,

Whovian Tardisia wrote:Meanwhile, his guests noticed a much smaller detail. "Is it just me, or is that a ferret with a glass of milk?" Jack wondered, unintentionally loudly.

that got him to laugh. "Yes it is, surprised that it gets your attention out of everything else you have probably experienced in your life."

Steph smacks herself on the face.

"What am I, an idiot? A can of octane booster with that lager, please!"

She shakes her head. "Pull it together, spaceman," she mutters to herself.

WA Kitty Kops wrote:

Herby wrote:“Tsch. Typical. She hasn’t backed up in almost a year. Okay, Manny, plug her back in.”

"Is yous saying she gonna forget she's got rocket pushing power?" The Chief Inshpekshuuner decided that it was perhaps the safest course of action to not be standing on the Rumbly Car's hood, and instead moved to the bar counter, his fur slightly fuzzed.

Upon hearing this, Manny jumps. “Dios mío, un gato que habla — wait wait wait WAIT Stefan!” he says making a throat slash gesture. Stefan slams a key on the laptop and Herby powers down. Manny reaches into his toolbox and pulls out a small notebook while Stefan says, “Rocket power?” Manny shrugs but then slaps his notebook. “No no no, s’okay, s’okay, she backed up after the upgrade, she’s safe. Sorry.” Stefan nods and reenters the startup command.

Mmmm.... mmmm.... ¡Mi Papa! ¿Qué haces, Manny? Hace tiempo que no nos vemos. Und Vater Schtefan! Wenn ist das Nunstück geht und Slotermeyer? Ja!

The older man laughs and shakes his head, thinking, someday I need to program her to speak proper German. “Welcome back, mein Feuerspucken.”

Herby wrote:Mmmm.... mmmm.... ¡Mi Papa! ¿Qué haces, Manny? Hace tiempo que no nos vemos. Und Vater Schtefan! Wenn ist das Nunstück geht und Slotermeyer? Ja!

"Is you okays, Rumbly Car?" the Chief Insphekshuuner asked. He still wasn't sure if the car's mind was properly awake, so he crouched down on the bar counter, watching Herby, curling his tail to his side. It was definitely safer there than on the floor.

Pink, having heard the ferret, emerged with a pair of jumper cables, only to find Herby running again and... speaking other languages? "That can't be right." he thought, returning to the box in search of another cable.

---

"A talking ferret with a glass of milk. Well." Jack walked up to the bar. "I suppose it would be rude not to introduce myself. Jack Dawson, First Mate of the WTC Atlas. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

---

The scantily clad hologram was pleased to see Herby working again. The sudden lexical switch was alarming considering the environment, but nothing her own translation matrix couldn't handle. "Guten tag, Volkswagenfreund. Bier?" She asked the automobile.

Whovian Tardisia wrote:"A talking ferret with a glass of milk. Well." Jack walked up to the bar. "I suppose it would be rude not to introduce myself. Jack Dawson, First Mate of the WTC Atlas. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"A talking Ferret with a glass of milk that speaks an understandable language if you are going to keep adding to the description." After Jack introduced himself the Ferret took his turn, "Ah military? Well that is a respectable place in life, I am Furettium, retired ambassador of Ferret Civilization. About all I got going for me at the time being. Pleasure to meet you as well, hope you are enjoying your time around the World Assembly. Place does not make for a good hosting spot." With that he finished off his glass of milk before ordering another, keeping an eye on Herby waiting for when it came time for things to eventually go back to normal for all those involved there.

Ferret Civilization wrote:

Whovian Tardisia wrote:"A talking ferret with a glass of milk. Well." Jack walked up to the bar. "I suppose it would be rude not to introduce myself. Jack Dawson, First Mate of the WTC Atlas. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"A talking Ferret with a glass of milk that speaks an understandable language if you are going to keep adding to the description." After Jack introduced himself the Ferret took his turn, "Ah military? Well that is a respectable place in life, I am Furettium, retired ambassador of Ferret Civilization. About all I got going for me at the time being. Pleasure to meet you as well, hope you are enjoying your time around the World Assembly. Place does not make for a good hosting spot." With that he finished off his glass of milk before ordering another, keeping an eye on Herby waiting for when it came time for things to eventually go back to normal for all those involved there.

Ikiti Tikilikrr, of the species called 'Tikrr', resembling a combination of what in some world somewhere might have been called bats, great white sharks and birds of prey, at least if said winged, clawed things with terrible teeth had had hands on their wings and a six-metre wingspan. She had no eyes, but they were under normal circumstances completely unnecessary even without her cybernetics, thanks to her marvelous ears, which could fold back like fans or open up in marvelously mobile bowls for gathering the sounds. The cybernetics were needed to understand the aliens and their weird concepts, like this thing called "milk".

"Why would you want to drink protein-rich fatty sweat of a species not your own?" Ikiti asked, looming behind the curiously-shaped creature. She was unfortunately a natural at looming, thanks to her size and tendency to lack respect for personal boundaries.

A puppy entered the bar and traversed through the busy setting until reaching the bar. The chow chow attempted to jump onto an empty barstool - a seemingly insurmountable task for the dog's short, stubby legs. After a number of failed attempts, the puppy eventually managed to pull its short, chubby body onto the paramount piece of furniture.
The dog slammed its paw into the island, passing the bartender three dog biscuits. "Hewwo," the puppy flamboyantly greeted the bartender. He took a moment to pause and look at the menu. "I will take a shwot of tequwillwa to stwart off pwease."