Editor's Note: I've noticed that there are lots of new people around, and I'd like to give an explanation and an invitation. These "stories" which appear from time to time in The Pub are just a bit of silliness that has been a tradition here since long before I arrived on the scene. In this story you'll see names of people you may recognize, or not. Just because you don't see your name here doesn't mean that you can't participate. Please write yourself in if you'd like, and in that way we may get to know you. The only "rule," if there is one, is that we try -- though not always with success -- to pick up the story from where the previous poster left it, and to include at least some of those elements in whatever comes next. -- Crow
And then suddenly, just as the figure on the wall had promised, all was made clear to the group of Pagans assembled before the wall, for when the group of dancing singers turned around, the red letters stitched to the back of their blue coveralls became visible, letters that read, "The Singing Movers."
As usual it was Selene, never one to stop seeking answers from her handy laptop, who drew the confusing threads of the story together.
"Okay everybody, I think I can draw the confusing threads of this story together," she said. "It says right here at http://www.portabellomushrooms.com
, that when portabello mushrooms are eaten in combination with pork at twilight in September, a giant mushroom will appear and grant the wish of whatever that person was thinking. Now Beith, this is important. What were you thinking about when you sat down to eat?"
Everyone, including the singing movers, stopped to listen as the Irish girl thought back to when she had sat down to dinner shortly before. "Well," Beith said, "I was just thinking that I'd be moving back to Ireland soon, and that even though I love it and it is my home, I have grown fond of the mountains here in Switzerland, and that part of me wishes I could stay. But at the same time, I was thinking that I have so much to pack, and I wished that I had some friends to help me, but that it was really too much to ask of my friends, and that I also needed professional movers, but that the last time I'd hired a moving company, they were a grouchy lot, and I hoped that any movers I hired this time would be a happy bunch, with a twinkle in their eye and a song on their lips."
Selene snapped shut the lid on her laptop in triumph. "And that, my dear, explains everything. The giant mushroom did in fact appear, as we all saw, and your feelings of some regret at not being able to stay were manifested by being transported into the mountains, where you sang -- badly -- about their beauty. And the rest of us were sucked through the cider and to this place because you wished for friends to help you move. And of course these guys," she said waving an arm at the movers on the wall, "are here because you wished for the assistance of gay and happy professional movers. So let that be a lesson to all of you," she said, glancing around at the incredulous Foggy Duck patrons. "Anything can be explained. All you need is a good laptop and access to the World Wide Web."
Crow tried to shake some life back into his wing feathers, which had gone numb from jotting it all down in his reporter's notebook. He wasn't sure he could believe everything he'd just heard, but he just shrugged his shoulders, resigned to his fate, as usual. And after all, Selene was an Ovate, so who was he to question.
Beith, however, had no problem believing any of it, and now that everything had been explained to her satisfaction, she was overjoyed. "Well everybody, now that you're here, I suppose it would be nice of you to help me move. Since my small regrets about leaving have been adequately expressed, I think the mushroom will allow us all to go straightaway back downhill to my apartment, and we can begin to pack and move my things to Ireland. Thank you all so much for offering to help."
Craig and Jeb were grumbling to each other. "Did you hear that? Offered to help move? I offered no such thing," said Craig. "Neither did I," said Jeb. "All I know is I got sucked through a cider vat and now here I am in Switzerland with the prospect of lugging boxes and furniture. This sucks, and I don't just mean the cider. How do I get out of here?"
There was nothing for it but to follow along, and everyone did, including the Singing Movers, who were now singing a tune from "Mary Poppins."
Soon the group was out of the mountains and into the streets of a Swiss city. There was a folding knife vendor on every corner, the ticking sound of millions of clocks and watches was heard, and the smell of chocolate was overpowering. Carragh had to be dragged out of several fudge shops along the way, but eventually the group made its way to Beith's apartment building, and sitting in front on his Harley Davidson motorcycle, a small trailer hitched to the back, was Billy Joe Bob from Texas.
"Well it's about time you folks got here. I seen all of ye land up there in that meadow," he said, pointing to the mountains, "but I had my Harley here, and it ain't no mountain bike, so when I got sucked into the cider vat, me and my bike landed here, and I been here ever since just a-waitin' on ye."
Moon Cloud quickly explained the situation to Billy Joe Bob, but the Texan didn't like what he'd heard, and now he swaggered up to Beith.
"Ireland?" he asked. "Why in tarnation do ye want to go to Ireland? Why, Texas is the place you want to be. It's not hardly no different from Ireland, but the weather is better."
This was the wrong thing to say to Beith, and a red glow started in her neck and quickly spread to her face as she stared hotly at the Texan.
"Texas, just like Ireland? Ha! Texas is NOTHING like Ireland. How can you say such a ridiculous thing? In Ireland, we have Guinness!"
"Well that don't mean nothin'," said Billy Joe Bob. "In Texas, we got Shiner Bock."
Standing toe-to-toe now with the Texan, the redhead raged. "In Ireland, we have the Cattle Raid of Cooley!"
"Just one?" taunted Billy Joe Bob. "You want to tell a Texan about cattle raids? Well we got at least five cattle raids ever day down in Texas."
"Okay," said Beith, "Ireland has Tara!"
"Okay," answered Billy Joe Bob, "Texas has the Alamo!"
Beith just stamped her foot, turned on her heel and unlocked the door to her apartment. "Well, are my FRIENDS going to help me move, or are you all going to just stand there?" she screeched.
Craig looked at Jeb, who looked at Crow. "Do we have a choice?" asked Craig.
"NO!" shouted Beith, but then calming quickly, she batted her eyes and asked, "Would you fine gentlemen please get started straightaway in this room here? This is where I keep my shoes, and each pair needs to be wrapped in tissue and packed individually in boxes."
Craig, Crow, Jeb and Billy Joe Bob looked like deer caught in the headlights, because the room to which they had been directed was filled with shoes. Shoes were on shelves from floor to ceiling. Shoes where strewn in piles all over the floor. Shoes hung from the chandelier, and shoes poured out of a closet in a glittering river of red, green, gold, brown, black and purple. Sequined shoes, leather shoes, slippers, boots and moccasins, but all with stiletto heels.
Just then there was a commotion outside, and Crow looked through a window to see that the Singing Movers had pulled up with their van. And coming down the street was another group of Foggy Duck patrons, some still wiping fresh cider from their hair. Some the old reporter recognized, others he did not, but he was sure of one thing. All had a part to play in this move ...