NationStates

Weebam-Na went to the bar. "One whiskey, Neville. I need to clear my head. Much has seemed to change. Where is the ambassador of Connopolis? Dizyntk?"

Black Marne wrote:Weebam-Na went to the bar. "One whiskey, Neville. I need to clear my head. Much has seemed to change. Where is the ambassador of Connopolis? Dizyntk?"

Dr. Forshaw is still haunting these halls, but it appears the entire Dizyntk nation fell into a massive black hole.

Ambassador Pinderhughes returns to his table. His wife, Lennox Thomas and Thomas' wife, Tamara wait for him. The Thomas' appear surprisingly calm.

"Lennox, this place is a madhouse," Pinderhughes says.

"I know," Thomas says.

"Are you sure? Do you see the burnt bag of... that came through the window?"

"Duncan," Thomas said. "One of the talents one must develop as a World Assembly Ambassador is to appear unaffected by the off-the-wall S--- that goes on here. It'll make you appear like a formidable player on the world stage."

"And much of what we do is about appearance," Pinderhughes said. "I understand all of that, but this?"

"This is the place where World Assembly Delegates go to cut loose," Thomas says. "Occasionally, you have to make an appearance here. It's one of those parts of the job that's not in the official description."

"But Lennox, there's a man/penguin..."

"Most of the time, I try to avoid this m-----f-----, but every so often you have to come here so that the other delegates don't think you're a snob."

"I see," Pinderhughes says.

"About once a month, you come in," Thomas says. "Fridays are best. Stay till about midnight. Have the special, listen to some music, talk a bit with delegates who are more f----- up than you to see what they're really like."

"I see," Pinderhughes says.

"Also, Mercedes has to come with you," Thomas says. "Liquor, smoke and women can be a bad combination."

"So..., be in the World Assembly, but don't become a creature of the World Assembly."

"You're learning," Thomas says. Theresa taps his shoulder.

"Baby, Kim's arguing with a small chinese ghost. Should I go get her."

"Nah," Thomas says. "Give it another half hour, then we're getting out of here."

Black Marne wrote:Weebam-Na went to the bar. "One whiskey, Neville. I need to clear my head. Much has seemed to change. Where is the ambassador of Connopolis? Dizyntk?"

It's really just me, now. They're all away, and Melvin is probably contemplating suicide ever since I made that mstake with the cannon. How could I know that it would destroy the Dizyntk universe?

Black Marne wrote:Weebam-Na went to the bar. "One whiskey, Neville. I need to clear my head. Much has seemed to change. Where is the ambassador of Connopolis? Dizyntk?"

"The Dizyntk have not been seen here for quite some time..." Giovanni said darkly. "Melvin's determined not to come out of his room until they come back. Poor kid."

Vaash walked in and sat down at the bar. He looked around for a bit.

"Is it me or has this place quieted down a lot?" Vaash asked.

Arbites wrote:Ortega makes his way over to the jukebox and yanks the power cord out of the wall. "Such noise. And what lewd behavior..." He grabs a few empty glasses and throws ice on the floor where David and Bruce are dancing. "Now then, shall we discuss terms of prisoner transfer? Our demands are simple, return the Imperial subjects living in Camp Liberty to our soil."

Finally, he approaches the bar. "Oh, and by the way, the Imperial Truth forbids drinking to excess. We're human, after all."

One of the wabbits, who perhaps doesn't like Ortega's general attitude, surreptitously sticks a sheet of paper onto the back of his coat. Written on this page, in large friendly letters, are the words

Finally, the salon is ready for business and the time has arrived for the Grand Opening of the World Assembly's first Nazi Hair Salon.



A large sign has been erected in front of the World Assembly HQ to direct customers to the new business. David has flown in a friend from Munich, noted hair-designer Franz Bugstrahlruder, to assist in the shop. Some upbeat techno music is playing softly over the salon's state of the art sound system.

David: "Well, looks like we're ready for business. Why don't you go find Neville and bring him here. I'm sure he'll be thrilled."

Bruce: "Oh I know he will be! I'll go find him and we'll be right back."

Bruce walks to the bar and finds Neville. "Neville, could you come and have a look at something?" he says. The two walk down the hall and on the way Bruce explains, without specifics, that they would like Neville's input on their new business venture. Bruce opens the door and the two walk in.....

Bruce: "So what do you think?"

The National Front Disco wrote:Finally, the salon is ready for business and the time has arrived for the Grand Opening of the World Assembly's first Nazi Hair Salon.

(Image)

A large sign has been erected in front of the World Assembly HQ to direct customers to the new business. David has flown in a friend from Munich, noted hair-designer Franz Bugstrahlruder, to assist in the shop. Some upbeat techno music is playing softly over the salon's state of the art sound system.

David: "Well, looks like we're ready for business. Why don't you go find Neville and bring him here. I'm sure he'll be thrilled."

Bruce: "Oh I know he will be! I'll go find him and we'll be right back."

Bruce walks to the bar and finds Neville. "Neville, could you come and have a look at something?" he says. The two walk down the hall and on the way Bruce explains, without specifics, that they would like Neville's input on their new business venture. Bruce opens the door and the two walk in.....

Bruce: "So what do you think?"

Vaash looks down the hall to find the source of the techno music. He finds the Nazi-run hair salon.

"Whats with the hair salon? And why wasnt there any signs about this?" Vaash said.

Arbites wrote:A smirk crossed the Inquisitor's face. "Yes, you may assume that. I realize this isn't the most appropriate setting, but I thought it was important for some of the wider international community to hear this. I'm sure you'll deny everything, as per usual, but we have more evidence that your regime is funneling resources to unbelievers in the western Imperium. Specifically, we have detained several sympathizers confirmed to be citizens of the Republic. We feel it is in their best interest for them to bear witness to the Imperial Truth."

Ortega makes his way over to the jukebox and yanks the power cord out of the wall. "Such noise. And what lewd behavior..." He grabs a few empty glasses and throws ice on the floor where David and Bruce are dancing. "Now then, shall we discuss terms of prisoner transfer? Our demands are simple, return the Imperial subjects living in Camp Liberty to our soil."

Finally, he approaches the bar. "Oh, and by the way, the Imperial Truth forbids drinking to excess. We're human, after all."

"Imprisoning foreign citizens and threatening to torture them as blackmail, huh? Can't say I'm surprised, Ortega. Do Inquisitors hand out business cards with 'international criminal' stamped on them?" Friedman plugs the jukebox back in and "Sympathy for the Devil" resumes. He stands in front of the electrical outlet to prevent Ortega from pulling the plug again.

"As for the camps, I think you are in desperate need of a hearing aid, unless those are the products of 'blasphemous science' as well. I'll explain this again for the five millionth time: residents of all the camps have applied for and received refugee status in accordance with international law. Refugees are defined as being displaced from their native country out of a well-founded fear of persecution, in this case, at the hands of your buddies in the Inquisition. They're not going back, especially not after the trick you pulled "legalizing" freedom of expression to draw them into the open. Given your genocidal tendencies, I'm surprised you have any minorities left."

Hittanryan wrote:"Imprisoning foreign citizens and threatening to torture them as blackmail, huh? Can't say I'm surprised, Ortega. Do Inquisitors hand out business cards with 'international criminal' stamped on them?" Friedman plugs the jukebox back in and "Sympathy for the Devil" resumes. He stands in front of the electrical outlet to prevent Ortega from pulling the plug again.

"As for the camps, I think you are in desperate need of a hearing aid, unless those are the products of 'blasphemous science' as well. I'll explain this again for the five millionth time: residents of all the camps have applied for and received refugee status in accordance with international law. Refugees are defined as being displaced from their native country out of a well-founded fear of persecution, in this case, at the hands of your buddies in the Inquisition. They're not going back, especially not after the trick you pulled "legalizing" freedom of expression to draw them into the open. Given your genocidal tendencies, I'm surprised you have any minorities left."

"Ah yes, your nation's latest paranoid conspiracy theory. Do you think we want to expend all the time and effort we do attempting to help unbelievers see the Light? Even after they have rejected His will for years, we mercifully gave them a chance at redemption. When the international community objected to our methods, the Imperium accommodated their requests for greater freedom of expression. We allowed the heathens to sin and blaspheme openly. Look where their transgressions led: poverty, rioting in the streets, civil unrest, and finally the assassination of a regional governor. Worship of the Ruinous Powers and forsaking the Emperor's Word can only lead to chaos, the results speak for themselves. We shall persevere."

The impact of Ortega's proclamation was mediated by the sudden meeting of a boot and his backside. Not missing a beat, the Inquisitor swept his leg behind him, tripping the bargoer who thought it would be funny to oblige the "KICK ME" sign on his back. Given the direction he was falling, the customer looked like he was about to take Violet down with him.

Dilange wrote:Vaash looks down the hall to find the source of the techno music. He finds the Nazi-run hair salon.

"Whats with the hair salon? And why wasnt there any signs about this?" Vaash said.

David: "Well we had to keep it secret because we, um, aren't sure if we have permission to do business yet. We're waiting for word from Neville but he seems a little shellshocked right now."

Bruce: "We really think he'll give the OK though. Just imagine the possibilities! We're bringing world-class hairstyling to the WA!"

Franz: "Ja, ve haf vays uf making you fabulous."

The National Front Disco wrote:Bruce: "So what do you think?"

"Ach, du lieber Gott in Himmel!"

After a few breathless seconds, however, Neville's natural good sense came to the rescue.

"So, naturally Bar staff get a 25% discount, Dazza gets a contract for nibblies and we supply drinks for the clientele? Oh, and if you want nail and beauty technicians, Madame Zamunda's might be willing to negotiate, if they get a discount for quantity on hairstyling. Though, naturally, I can't speak for Madame."

Indeed, nobody could, he added to himself. Bast's eldest daughter was a law unto herself.

"So, how'd you square this with the Building Management?" he asked. "I thought they kept this section closed, because of the ... because ... well, I just thought they kept it closed," he faltered.

Ardchoille wrote:

The National Front Disco wrote:Bruce: "So what do you think?"

"Ach, du lieber Gott in Himmel!"

After a few breathless seconds, however, Neville's natural good sense came to the rescue.

"So, naturally Bar staff get a 25% discount, Dazza gets a contract for nibblies and we supply drinks for the clientele? Oh, and if you want nail and beauty technicians, Madame Zamunda's might be willing to negotiate, if they get a discount for quantity on hairstyling. Though, naturally, I can't speak for Madame."

Indeed, nobody could, he added to himself. Bast's eldest daughter was a law unto herself.

"So, how'd you square this with the Building Management?" he asked. "I thought they kept this section closed, because of the ... because ... well, I just thought they kept it closed," he faltered.

"I want my...I want my MTV..." The characteristic sound of "Money for Nothing" started to play as Candle Jack turned on his boombox of awesomeness and drowned out the other music in the place. What? A salon? Should I call Tabatha Coffey to see if it works right? Did the Building Management guys clear this? Now what is all this with a salon in the bar started by a bunch of nazis? And how did the wabbits stick a KICK ME sign on someone...

Wait why should I care? I don't have hair!

Ardchoille wrote:

The National Front Disco wrote:Bruce: "So what do you think?"

"Ach, du lieber Gott in Himmel!"

After a few breathless seconds, however, Neville's natural good sense came to the rescue.

"So, naturally Bar staff get a 25% discount, Dazza gets a contract for nibblies and we supply drinks for the clientele? Oh, and if you want nail and beauty technicians, Madame Zamunda's might be willing to negotiate, if they get a discount for quantity on hairstyling. Though, naturally, I can't speak for Madame."

Indeed, nobody could, he added to himself. Bast's eldest daughter was a law unto herself.

"So, how'd you square this with the Building Management?" he asked. "I thought they kept this section closed, because of the ... because ... well, I just thought they kept it closed," he faltered.

David: "Those terms seem entirely reasonable. Thank you so much Neville! And of course we will contact Madame Zamunda. We're not quite ready to offer nail and cosmetics services anyway."

"As for Building Management, we, um, well what I mean is, we haven't exactly contacted them, yet. Not really. We were hoping that since this space is technically part of the Bar, that your blessing is all that would be needed."

Bruce: "Why would they keep this section closed? It seems perfectly usable and there's even an elevator across the service corridor."

Bruce turns to Candle Jack.

Bruce: "Sir would you please take that boombox elsewhere. That.....music will frighten off the clientèle and it's giving me a headache. Thank you."

Simone walked into the salon and said to Bruce and David, "What do you think you can do with my hair, I think it's time to give me a new style."

OOC:She has long brown,soft, straight his that is about shoulder-length.

The National Front Disco wrote:Bruce turns to Candle Jack.

Bruce: "Sir would you please take that boombox elsewhere. That.....music will frighten off the clientèle and it's giving me a headache. Thank you."

With pleasure. *turns off boombox*

The National Front Disco wrote:David: "... We were hoping that since this space is technically part of the Bar, that your blessing is all that would be needed."

Bruce: "Why would they keep this section closed? It seems perfectly usable and there's even an elevator across the service corridor." <snip>

"Oh, you've got my blessing," Neville said accommodatingly. "I just hope it doesn't turn out that you need it."

He looked uncomfortable, but managed to achieve a perfectly ordinary tone of voice. "Look, I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. I mean, all that nonsense belongs to the old building. There couldn't have been anything left. Nothing could have survived the fire. Besides, they beat it once, they can beat it again. Could beat it again. If it were there. Which it isn't."

That line didn't seem promising, He tried again, bracingly: "Anyway, it was probably all something UNOG put about to keep people away from their HQ. Or maybe it was the Secretariat: they don't want anyone blundering into their cave. Not that you get caves this high up in a building ..." Annoyed at himself, he decided to abandon the subject. "Um, are you actually in business yet? I could use a bit of styling, too."

A lock of caramel-coloured hair fell obligingly into his eye to underline the problem.

"Any more of this and I'm going to need a hair-net," he grumbled, shoving it back. "But by the time I finish work, the barbers are shut. And when I arrive, they're not open. I think you'll make a mint -- hmmm, so, about the rent ..."

The Republic of Lanos wrote:

The National Front Disco wrote:Bruce turns to Candle Jack.

Bruce: "Sir would you please take that boombox elsewhere. That.....music will frighten off the clientèle and it's giving me a headache. Thank you."

With pleasure. *turns off boombox*

Bruce: "Thank you. Would you like an espresso? I made it myself with a little lemon twist. It's good. You can look at this while I go get it."

Soviet Canuckistan wrote:Simone walked into the salon and said to Bruce and David, "What do you think you can do with my hair, I think it's time to give me a new style."

OOC:She has long brown,soft, straight his that is about shoulder-length.

David: "Of course! Step over here to the chair, you're our first customer!"

"I love the texture, you've really taken good care of your hair. I think what you really need though is a shorter look and a darker colour. Something that says "I'm a strong woman, I know what I am, and what I am is all that."

"Franz, would you like to assist me?"

Franz: "Ja! Ja! Vell I think ve should go mitt blonde but if you think darker ve can do that."

*shouted* "All hairstyles haf to be popular und haf to accommodate zemselfs to ze comprehension of ze least intelligent of zose whom they seeks to reach! VE BEGIN! MACHT SCHNELL!"

David and Franz launch a hairstyling blitzkrieg on Simone's head. First, her long brown hair is dyed jet black, while Franz sings "Die Fahne Hoch!" at the top of his lungs along with the techno playing on the salon's soundsystem. Once the dye job is finished, the two stylists turn into a whirlwind of scissors and combs and clippers. Occasionally one can hear "marvelous" or "fantastic" or "Durch die geschickte und nachhaltige Nutzung von Styling-Gel, kann man eine Menschen sehen auch den Himmel als Hölle oder eine extrem elendes Leben als Paradies!!!!" and the like.

Eventually, their work is complete. David spins the chair around so Simone can have a look at their work.

David: "So, how do you like it?"

"It's beautiful, I love it! Thank You, how much do you two want?"Simone replied to the two "What else do you guys do? I can't wait to show this to Sergei!"

Ardchoille wrote:"Now there's an idea," said Violet. "A Bar cricket team! Healthy minds in healthy bodies, and all that!"

"But not with baseballs," complained Lillian. "Too big. Where's the skill in that?"

A group of ballplayers wearing the uniforms and colors of The Palentine Pirates enterd the bar during that exchange. As they went to find seats and order some cold Iron City beer, and Duquesnse pilsner, one of the players said in an incredulous voice,

"Cricket? Isn't that a game played by nations who's menfolk can't throw a ball overhand, and speeds of 90+MPH?"

The Palentine Pirates wrote:"Cricket? Isn't that a game played by nations who's menfolk can't throw a ball overhand, and speeds of 90+MPH?"

David Watts, an avid cricket fan if there ever was one, overhears this.

My good man, I'll have you know that the delivery speeds are similar for both sports with the fastest bowlers and pitchers propelling the ball in the region of 150 to 160 kilometres per hour. The fastest recorded cricket delivery is 161.26 km/h, with baseball's record slightly quicker at 169.0 km/h. The increased velocity in baseball, which is really just grown men playing the children's game of rounders, is due to the pitchers cheating by throwing overhand and the ball in cricket being harder and heavier. In addition, baseball pitchers are permitted to bend and then straighten their arm by more than 15 degrees in delivering the ball. And that's not cricket!

David Watts
Ambassador
The Dominion of New Leicestershire

New Leicestershire wrote:

The Palentine Pirates wrote:"Cricket? Isn't that a game played by nations who's menfolk can't throw a ball overhand, and speeds of 90+MPH?"

David Watts, an avid cricket fan if there ever was one, overhears this.

My good man, I'll have you know that the delivery speeds are similar for both sports with the fastest bowlers and pitchers propelling the ball in the region of 150 to 160 kilometres per hour. The fastest recorded cricket delivery is 161.26 km/h, with baseball's record slightly quicker at 169.0 km/h. The increased velocity in baseball, which is really just grown men playing the children's game of rounders, is due to the pitchers cheating by throwing overhand and the ball in cricket being harder and heavier. In addition, baseball pitchers are permitted to bend and then straighten their arm by more than 15 degrees in delivering the ball. And that's not cricket!

David Watts

Ambassador
The Dominion of New Leicestershire

Another Ballplayer chimes in,
"I don't get the need for all the padding one of your crickters...if thats what you call them.. wear? Its not as if the thrower is going to send one high tight and inside to knock you on your ass for digging in. You're not exaclty facing Early Wynn, Three Fingers Brown, or Burleigh Grimes. In Baseball all you've got is a helmet, a shin protector, and quick reflexes."

The Palentine Pirates wrote:Another Ballplayer chimes in,
"I don't get the need for all the padding one of your crickters...if thats what you call them.. wear? Its not as if the thrower is going to send one high tight and inside to knock you on your ass for digging in. You're not exaclty facing Early Wynn, Three Fingers Brown, or Burleigh Grimes. In Baseball all you've got is a helmet, a shin protector, and quick reflexes."

David Watts rolls his eyes

Have you, by any chance, ever been struck by a cricket ball travelling at full speed?

And what's with those ridiculous oversized gloves you insist on wearing? Real men play without gloves and field the ball barehanded.

New Leichestershire wrote:Have you, by any chance, ever been struck by a cricket ball travelling at full speed?

"Can't say I have, but our ace pitcher Antonio "Dirty" Sanchez, leads the league in ERA(1.91) and hit Batters...he hates people who dig in. As for the gloves, according to Dr. Strangeglove it makes catching errant hotdog wrappers easier....best infield catch he ever made. They also protect the hand when someone is sliding spikes up when you try to tag 'em out. Damn shame they don't let you throw the ball at them anymore."