Tellan told me that we have been time traveling and saving the world and destroying it and I jumped into another me right in this room and left a big mess of pulpy flesh and we went into an inverted world and there was a factory with rows of you from other dimensions all hooked up to machines and—"
"Let's go to the pub," sighed Amanda.
"What? It's only..." Dale checked his watch, "half nine in the morning."
"So? They're open, aren't they?" Dale nodded. "Good, I'll get my bag."
They went to the pub.
Where's Our Pub?
Present Day
"Morning, Dale. Morning, Amanda," said Steve cheerily from behind the spotless bar, before he turned his attention back to the glass he was polishing with what looked suspiciously like a new cloth, not the nasty gray rag he normally wiped at the glasses with ineffectively.
"Morning, Steve," said Dale.
"Um, morning," said Amanda, as she tried to keep it together and not let the fact Steve was happy freak her out more than finding her boyfriend smelled all funny and men were appearing in her house telling her crazy stories before she'd even got dressed or had her coffee.
"Bit early for you two, isn't it? Normally you aren't in until the afternoon."
"Today's a bit of a weird day, Steve. Two pints please," said Dale. "Got any nuts?"
Steve smiled wickedly and began to lower a hand to his crotch, ready to give his favorite joke.
"Seriously? I've heard it a million times, dude."
"The best ones never get old though, do they?" said Steve with a glint in his eye.
"Just pour the pints," sighed Dale.
Amanda kept quiet. Maybe she had gone funny in the head from the bump. Or maybe she'd had the bump first then everything else had happened afterward? That would explain it: she was just getting mixed up, events feeling out of order as she had a concussion. "Eh?"
"I said, you're looking lovely today, Amanda. Got a bonk on your head though, did you? It's a bit of a funny color." Steve finished pouring the drinks and placed them down on two beer mats in front of Dale and Amanda.
"Um, yes. Er, thank you. I'll go and get the seats while you pay, Dale." Amanda grabbed the pint glasses and headed over to their usual spot in the far corner, a booth they always sat in.
"She's acting odd," she heard Steve say, as he punched in the drinks on what looked like a new high-tech touchscreen till.
Amanda focused on not spilling the drinks and walked across... It was, it was floorboards. Shiny, clean, stripped floorboards. Where was the nasty carpet you always stuck to? And come to think of it, how come there were smart looking people in the bar? And was that coffee they were drinking? It was! Steve had always said he'd never serve coffee as this was a pub, not a bloody yuppie coffee bar where people just hung around all day in comfy chairs and moaned about their problems concerning their trendy lofts. Like he even knew what one was.
It was all too strange; the bar was familiar but different. Normally there were two or three old blokes sat on threadbare stools and that was it. The place usually stank, the toilets were a danger zone and Steve was grumpy as hell — if you could find him that is, usually he was off out back in his "Office," smoking a cigarette.
Amanda sat down in a daze. She was getting really worried about herself. Had she lost weeks or months of time? Steve couldn't have done all these changes overnight. And what was with their table? It looked like the old one but it was different, like it was new and made to look old, rather than just being old.
Amanda sipped her pint. It tasted good — cold, with a satisfying hint of hops.
That's it, I've definitely lost it. I haven't had a pint that tasted nice in all the time we've been coming here.
Amanda got up; she had to leave. This wasn't right, not at all, not any of it. She needed to go to a hospital. What if she had a lump in her brain or something? At least it would explain things.
"Hey, where are you going? Take a
"Let's go to the pub," sighed Amanda.
"What? It's only..." Dale checked his watch, "half nine in the morning."
"So? They're open, aren't they?" Dale nodded. "Good, I'll get my bag."
They went to the pub.
Where's Our Pub?
Present Day
"Morning, Dale. Morning, Amanda," said Steve cheerily from behind the spotless bar, before he turned his attention back to the glass he was polishing with what looked suspiciously like a new cloth, not the nasty gray rag he normally wiped at the glasses with ineffectively.
"Morning, Steve," said Dale.
"Um, morning," said Amanda, as she tried to keep it together and not let the fact Steve was happy freak her out more than finding her boyfriend smelled all funny and men were appearing in her house telling her crazy stories before she'd even got dressed or had her coffee.
"Bit early for you two, isn't it? Normally you aren't in until the afternoon."
"Today's a bit of a weird day, Steve. Two pints please," said Dale. "Got any nuts?"
Steve smiled wickedly and began to lower a hand to his crotch, ready to give his favorite joke.
"Seriously? I've heard it a million times, dude."
"The best ones never get old though, do they?" said Steve with a glint in his eye.
"Just pour the pints," sighed Dale.
Amanda kept quiet. Maybe she had gone funny in the head from the bump. Or maybe she'd had the bump first then everything else had happened afterward? That would explain it: she was just getting mixed up, events feeling out of order as she had a concussion. "Eh?"
"I said, you're looking lovely today, Amanda. Got a bonk on your head though, did you? It's a bit of a funny color." Steve finished pouring the drinks and placed them down on two beer mats in front of Dale and Amanda.
"Um, yes. Er, thank you. I'll go and get the seats while you pay, Dale." Amanda grabbed the pint glasses and headed over to their usual spot in the far corner, a booth they always sat in.
"She's acting odd," she heard Steve say, as he punched in the drinks on what looked like a new high-tech touchscreen till.
Amanda focused on not spilling the drinks and walked across... It was, it was floorboards. Shiny, clean, stripped floorboards. Where was the nasty carpet you always stuck to? And come to think of it, how come there were smart looking people in the bar? And was that coffee they were drinking? It was! Steve had always said he'd never serve coffee as this was a pub, not a bloody yuppie coffee bar where people just hung around all day in comfy chairs and moaned about their problems concerning their trendy lofts. Like he even knew what one was.
It was all too strange; the bar was familiar but different. Normally there were two or three old blokes sat on threadbare stools and that was it. The place usually stank, the toilets were a danger zone and Steve was grumpy as hell — if you could find him that is, usually he was off out back in his "Office," smoking a cigarette.
Amanda sat down in a daze. She was getting really worried about herself. Had she lost weeks or months of time? Steve couldn't have done all these changes overnight. And what was with their table? It looked like the old one but it was different, like it was new and made to look old, rather than just being old.
Amanda sipped her pint. It tasted good — cold, with a satisfying hint of hops.
That's it, I've definitely lost it. I haven't had a pint that tasted nice in all the time we've been coming here.
Amanda got up; she had to leave. This wasn't right, not at all, not any of it. She needed to go to a hospital. What if she had a lump in her brain or something? At least it would explain things.
"Hey, where are you going? Take a
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