Anybody Got a Match? It’s a 6.

“Holy shit, guys, what a wild night” – the Bartender, of the seven Proprietors, the one known as Denise, stepped into the neon and flickering fluorescent lighting that somehow established her domain in the Six Sentence Café & Bistro, separate yet powerful in the interior of the joint, but was noticed doing so as the light shifted ever so slightly.

The Thin Man and the Mimi (2 of the 7 Proprietors of the SSC&B), not only did not seem surprised, if anything showed the shared pride of parents of a family member returning from an uphill battle for a “B”, her flair being a banner of one who fought at a disadvantage yet reveled in all earned victories; the Bartender sat on the other side of the bar on the very same bar stool recently vacated by a man on a mission of magic and breakfast.

“So you guys want to hear about my night?” (it was not a question)

“Of course we do, Denise” (Mimi, the calm amidst all storms) cast a sideways glance at the Tall Thin Man, who, on cue, slowly made his way over to sit on a nearby bar stool, his face an etched plate portrait of Job.

“Was kinda wild…Nick (the Gatekeeper) and Ford (the Supplier) and I were hanging in the Café; Ford was tuning up the Café drum kit, figured it was a slow night, we’d have ourselves a little jam.

“You know, there’s a reason Nick’s called the Gatekeeper and no, not simply because he’s solid and stoic and as sturdy as the oldest tree in the world, which, by the way, is the Great Basin Bristlecone Pine… anyway, we’re about ready to plug in when there’s a knock on the door and Nick answers it…”