It's time for an after party!

[perpend]

[About an hour after the trial and subsequent execution, Cabanela makes a decision.

They need to do something, keep the morale up, however little it may be.

Under each occupied room door people will find the following note written:


In difficult times such as this, it is important to carry on.
Don't give into despair; we must preservere.
If you don't want to be alone this evening, meet me in the dining hall.
-Cabanela

[Upon entering the dinning hall, you will find Cabanela sitting at one of the tables; he has lit two candles that are placed at the center of the table, but there's nothing else to note.

You'll have to supply your own food, since he doesn't have much of an appetite.]

Comments

[forcegalactic]

[It would be a popular trashy novel, that's what? Mordecai won't judge, he's guilty of writing terrible stories.]

Marty, I've seen plenty of "weird" in my time, time travel ain't the weirdest of them all. That position goes to the blob infestation I had in my saloon a few weeks ago, or that time we were all forced to sing thanks to radiation. That was a weird couple o' days.

[He dumps the onions into the pan. All done.] What, my story? Nothin' at the moment. I tried my hand at mystery a few days ago, but that didn't work out well.

[heymcfly]

N-no, I meant- [ Oh jesus. Time travel was a little weird, yeah, but um. More like the events that happened during. To explain or not to explain, that's the question. ] Stuff happened when I went to the past that was, aah...[ How did you even say this? ] Not fun.

Believe me.

[ He crosses his arms over his chest, and he smiles! ] Aw, c'mon, I bet they were great! Did you ever have anyone read 'em?

[forcegalactic]

"Not fun" describes most of the things my saloon's been through, even if it didn't involve my own mother bein' interested in me. That I am certain I can live without, even if it means tradin' that for Technology Bein's hackin' into the saloon AI.

[At least the misadventures on Mars don't leave him deeply uncomfortable.]

Well, my wife does, but I never got to finish my novel. Alien turned my writin' space into a gladiator area and with it, took my papers. [It was sad, but typical for his luck.] I'm thinkin' of pickin' up writin' again, but so far, all I got is writer's block.

[heymcfly]

[ Jesus Christ. Marty tilts his head to the side, looking curiously to Mordecai. ] You run a saloon? Damn, that's pretty heavy. [ He smiles, and points to the pot where the onions stew. ] Is that why you cook?

And what about your mom again?

[ He hums...and shrugs his shoulders. ] What about writing stuff while you're here? Maybe it could help take some of the edge offa things?

[forcegalactic]

Used to run. It grew legs and walked away when the Marshal shot the self-playin' piano AI to death. [LONG STORY.] Sure, I had to learn how to cook and serve drinks if I wanted to take over the Space Saloon, and it don't hurt when it came to a-wooin' my wife. [A smirk.] Cookin's a useful skill, Marty, you should learn it.

What do you mean, what about my mother? She's a good woman, taught me everythin' about keepin' house. [He stirs the vegetables.] Her side of the family's Jewish, my dad ain't.

...I was thinkin' of doin' that, actually. Now that I ain't as afraid as before, I got the brainpower to do it.

[heymcfly]

Wait. Your saloon actually grew legs...? [ That's...actually kind of hard to believe. But he's gonna assume it's the truth, because this guy lived on Mars and everything and that was true. ] Can buildings do that in the future? [ That would be pretty nifty, actually.

He clears his throat and rubs the back of his head, especially when cooking's involved. Marty can't cook worth a shit; him in the kitchen usually meant disaster. What would Jen say? ] I'll keep that in mind. For the future.

Oh. Uh. [ Awkward pause! ] I thought you said that she wasn't nice...or something. Sorry. I guess I might have heard wrong. [ oops ]

If you ever get started let me know. I'll be your proofreader. How's that sound?

[forcegalactic]

Not all. She got the idea from the piano when it tried to perform. It's a blessin' and a curse, havin' installed the most up-to-date system on her.

[It left her less vulnerable to hacking, but at the same time, the whole singing mess wouldn't have started in the first place, and he would still have a saloon. Life is like that sometimes, he sighs.]

No, no problem, I like talkin'. [Understatement.] Take it as introducin' myself. I tell you about my mother, you tell me about yours, anythin' that ain't embarassin'.

[He turns off the heat and turns to Marty expectantly. Better to avoid the topic of proofreading, in case he ends up writing the sort of stories that should not be shared.]

[heymcfly]

[ This entire thing is mind-boggling. Marty can barely even wrap his head around the fact that pianos can sing or be installed with software, let alone moving into a different planet. Is he even registering any of this right? ] That's really heavy, Mord- Morda-

...Can I call you Mord, or...?

[ Oh boy. Marty breathes in and out. Embarrassment time. ] Well, ah. In 1985 my mom was kind of a...well, she drank a lot I guess. I mean, I can kinda see why if she had to put up with my dad. [ Which is mean to say, but still. ] He was kind of a wimp. Least he was the last time I saw him.

It's all kind of weird to talk about. I ran into her [ kinda ] in 1955 and she sorts got the hots for me.

[ Yeah. ]

[forcegalactic]

[That issue has never come up. Few people called him "Mordecai" at all, if they bothered remembering his full name correctly. To those who heard it once, he was "Jeremiah" or "Jiminy Barkeep", with absolutely zero appropriate nicknames. He likes his name a lot: Mor-de-cai. Final syllable with a harsh h, if you wanted to be accurate. The thought of a shortened version never dawned on him.]

Sounds an awful lot like "Morty", don't use it. Most folks call me Barkeep where I'm from, it's unofficially my nickname by now. [Marty isn't old enough to drink legally, but he can refer to the title.]

What's so bad about your dad bein' a bit of a coward? There are plenty of woman who love a sensitive man, my wife included.

[heymcfly]

Barkeep? That's pretty heavy. Mind if I use that? [ Even if Marty can't drink. Unless the drinking age went down in the nearby future? hinthinthint ]

Aaah, I don't think my dad's sensitive. He doesn't know how to stick up for himself. Like at home, the neighbors would call him the local doormat. [ He wrinkles his nose. ] About a week ago [ kinda ] my dad's boss from work wrecked his car while he was drinkin' and blamed it all on my dad. And he just took it!

So the last time I saw my dad's gotta do reports for his boss at work, pay for car insurance and repairs, and pay for Biff's dry cleanin' because when he hit the car, he spilled beer on his shirt.

He doesn't have any guts at all. It sucks.

[forcegalactic]

I don't mind at all! In fact, I'd much prefer it if folks called me that more often. [Though he kind of likes the sound of "Mr. Jiminy". It makes him sound like a teacher, or mentor.]

[He grimaces.] Your dad's got the worst kinda luck, Marty. There's lotsa bad folks out there that take advantage of people like that, ain't always their fault. Don't he got friends to stick up for him?