By Elizabeth Argall
The juke box was playing the top ten over and over again. Some swine had rigged the voting, Flashdance, Footloose and I Had the Time of My Life were the top three songs for the third week running.
The patrons of the Tuxedo Lounge found themselves shuddering uncontrollably as Flashdance came round for another volley. I stood behind the bar, smiling and benevolent as the apathetic shmoes sipped their drinks, praying for the minutes to fly by and happy happy super happy top ten happy hour to be over. Some people just have no taste in music.
I hum happily to myself as Time of My Life builds to its heart
rending crescendo. I’m the bartender, I pour the drinks, I decide
what music is played and what’s more, I’ve got the shotgun.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
All I need was a few more deals and then pow, off to Mexico for the good life. That was how it was supposed to be.
The meteor changed all that…
The world went crazy three weeks ago when the news was leaked. There was a fucking huge meteor coming right for us and nothing to save us. Oh the good ole boys at the Pentagon had some wild theories and strategies, but it was more to fool people and make them feel safe, for all I know they were trying to fool themselves.
So the long and the short of it is, sometime today, in approximately five hours and fourty five minutes the meteor is going to rip off our atmosphere and burst the world into flames. Not pretty sounding is it?
People rushed to home made bunkers, some rushed to their loved ones, some rushed to the most exclusive night club ever, the Tuxedo Lounge. At first we didn’t know what to do, all these people hammering on the doors (flying backwards from the jolts of electricity), but if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s find opportunities in a crisis.
I opened our doors and started letting people in. A very slow trickle
of the rich, the beautiful and the well placed. I let them in to my
happy happy super happy top ten happy hour. They sip their drinks, waiting
for the inane hour to end and it does for them soon enough. I take the
poisoned glass from their stiff hand, drag the body to a discrete corner
of the room and tell the bouncers to let in another person.
Here we are waiting for the end of the world, at the Tuxedo Lounge where only the best get in.