Plainswander sat alone in his tavern. It was early morning, most of his crew hadn't gotten up yet — well, most but that damnable gnome MIlhouse. Plains wasn't sure if the chaotic little mage ever actually slept, then again, considering the sorts of things the sleep deprived little maniac came up with on the regular, perhaps it was better that he never got his brain together enough to start being really effective.
That wasn't the problem today though, Plains had finally tracked down Nat Pagle and convinced the more-than-slightly inebriated human to come join him at the Frostwall Command Post. Something about "catching the best fish"..... it had seemed like such a good idea at the time, and, 700 enmormous fish, and 7 more "lunkers" (whatever those were...extra extra big fish? Who knew) later, Nat was over there at the fishing Shack, with the Cats, and the Gnome, and even Thaelin...and they were all drinking.
And drinking.
And drinking.
They'd been at their "Victory Fish Party" for the past 2 days. Cats + Booze + Fresh Fish = endless motivation, and you add human and gnomish ingenuity to that, and they'd found entirely new and somewhat horrifying ways to make a mess, and they showed no sign of slowing down anytime soon. Milhouse had created something he called the "Linear And Specialized Energy Radiation, version Cat1.0", and was using it to send the drunken felines into new and frenzied heights of "MUST CHASE"... Plains could hear the sounds of flying bottles and the yowls of gleeful Kitties from across the base.
It was getting bad. Plainswander was completely out of Draenic Pale, completely out of Gnomish Boozemahol 5000, completely out of Dwarven Stout (Thaelin kept promising more, but then he also kept passing out in the fishing pond and belching loud enough to scare Peckers and Blook too...).
In fact, the only thing the big Tauren had left was the 6 barrels of his own special concoction in the basement. The big tauren had studied the distilling techniques of the Pandaren, and combined them with his own ideas and select botanicals from the Mulgore grasslands. The results were...potent. And they'd been aging underneath his inn since he'd gotten the building finsihed.
Oh well. Maybe it was time. After all, he'd made this bed. Sighing heavily, the big tauren went downstairs and brought out one of the Barrels marked "DANGER, TEST ONLY", and then called out towards the fishing shack...
"FELLAS! BOOZE UP!"
That wasn't the problem today though, Plains had finally tracked down Nat Pagle and convinced the more-than-slightly inebriated human to come join him at the Frostwall Command Post. Something about "catching the best fish"..... it had seemed like such a good idea at the time, and, 700 enmormous fish, and 7 more "lunkers" (whatever those were...extra extra big fish? Who knew) later, Nat was over there at the fishing Shack, with the Cats, and the Gnome, and even Thaelin...and they were all drinking.
And drinking.
And drinking.
They'd been at their "Victory Fish Party" for the past 2 days. Cats + Booze + Fresh Fish = endless motivation, and you add human and gnomish ingenuity to that, and they'd found entirely new and somewhat horrifying ways to make a mess, and they showed no sign of slowing down anytime soon. Milhouse had created something he called the "Linear And Specialized Energy Radiation, version Cat1.0", and was using it to send the drunken felines into new and frenzied heights of "MUST CHASE"... Plains could hear the sounds of flying bottles and the yowls of gleeful Kitties from across the base.
It was getting bad. Plainswander was completely out of Draenic Pale, completely out of Gnomish Boozemahol 5000, completely out of Dwarven Stout (Thaelin kept promising more, but then he also kept passing out in the fishing pond and belching loud enough to scare Peckers and Blook too...).
In fact, the only thing the big Tauren had left was the 6 barrels of his own special concoction in the basement. The big tauren had studied the distilling techniques of the Pandaren, and combined them with his own ideas and select botanicals from the Mulgore grasslands. The results were...potent. And they'd been aging underneath his inn since he'd gotten the building finsihed.
Oh well. Maybe it was time. After all, he'd made this bed. Sighing heavily, the big tauren went downstairs and brought out one of the Barrels marked "DANGER, TEST ONLY", and then called out towards the fishing shack...
"FELLAS! BOOZE UP!"
