Moving the Furniture

A couple of months ago, we collected a beautiful organ. Nothing wrong with the instrument, as far as I have been able to tell, but presumably the church that had owned it had acquired something newer. I spoke to the beefcake and asked them if the instrument could be moved indoors from the storage space outside, and they assured me that it could, and would be in due course.
The days passed quietly as I continued to explore the musical highways and byways of time, and still the organ sat patiently in the storage space while the beefcake drank their coffee and looked for a slug in the garden outside.
There came a point at which I realized that unless I applied the point of something sharp to a sensitive area of the collective beefcake, the organ would still be sitting in the storage space when our tiring old sun finally blossomed into a red giant, "licking clean the faces of her daughter planets" to paraphrase Arthur C.Clarke rather clumsily.
Armed primarily with the knowledge gathered in my researches, I manufactured, tested, and installed a set of pulley blocks and rope tackle and hoisted the organ into the building by myself. Naturally, when the beefcake emerged from their intense debate of the merits of various sporting teams, they expressed mild surprise that the organ had been translated without their involvement, before returning to the matter of debate.
The whole effort put me very much in mind of this little ditty (which also became the name of a popular band), performed by the British actor and entertainer, Bernard Cribbins:

X:76 % number
T:Right Said Fred % title
C:Myles Rudge and Ted Dick % composer
O:http://www.mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=6684&messages=92&page=1#39192
M:2/4
L:1/8
Q:1/4=160
P:A2BA2BAC
K:D
P:A
"D"d2"A"A2|"G"B4|"D"d>cd>A|"G"B2d2|"D"d2A2|B2F2|F>AF>D|"A"E4|
w:"Right!", said Fred, "both of us to-ge-ther, one each end and stead-y as we go."
w:"Right!", said Fred, "give a shout to Char-lie!", up comes Char-lie from the floor be-low.
w:"Right!", said Fred, "Have to take the door off. Need more space to shift the so-and-so"
w:"Right!", said Fred, "Have to take the wall down. That there wall is gon-na have to go"
w:"Right!", said Fred, Climb-ing up a lad-der With his crow-bar gave a might-y blow!
"D"F2A2|"G"E2D2|"D"F>AF>A|"G"E2D2|"D"F2A2|B2d2|f2f2-|"^al coda"f2e2!coda!|
w:Tried to shift it, could-n't ev-en lift it, we was get-ting no-where_ and
w:Af-ter strain-ing, heav-ing and com-plain-ing, we was get-ting no-where_ and
w:Had bad twin-ges Tak-ing off the hing-es And it got us no-where_ and
w:Took the wall down. Ev-en with it all down we was get-ting no-where_ and
w:Boy! Was he in troub-le, Half a ton of rubble Land-ed on the top of his
d4|"G"e4|"A"A>BA>G|F2E2||
w:so, we had a cup of tea, and
P:B
"A"A>AA>A|"G"G2G>G|"A"F2F2|"D"D3D|"A"A2A2|"G"G3A|"A"F2"D"D2-|D2B"E"^G|"B"B2B2|
w:Char-lie had a think and he thought we ought, to take off all the han-dles_ and the things that
w:Char-lie had a think and he said "look Fred, I've got a sort of feel-ing_ if_ we re-
"A"A2B2|^G2E2|^GAB2|"B"B2B2|BBE>"E"E|E>EE2-|E2"A"A2||
w:hold the can-dles, but it did no good, well I nev-er thought it would._ All
w:move the ceil-ing_ With a rope or two We could drop the blight-er through". "Oh"
P:C
"^coda"!coda!"D"f4|f2"G"g2|"D"f2e2|defd|ecd2|"B"B2"A"A2|A3e-|e"D"d3!fermata!|]
w:dome! So Fred and me had a-noth-er cup-pa tea and then we went 'ome.
%%text (spoken) I said to Charlie, we'll just have to leave it standing on the landing, that's all. You see the trouble with Fred is, \
%%text he's... he's too hasty. Now you never get nowhere if you're too hasty.
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Footprints in the flour

A few days before leaving on my latest expedition I met with my director who advised me that she was planning a longer-term investigation in the Netherlands around the Sixteenth to Seventeenth centuries.

Of course, I was immediately interested, having been there when the pilgrims were preparing to leave for America, and the director suggested that I might be a good choice for someone to look for a vacant property that could be bought to use as a base for operations.

One of the places that was recommended to me was a windmill. The miller had become disabled recently as the result of an accident and his wife, who had become his caregiver, had expressed an interest in selling the mill as a going concern.

When I got there the miller himself was sitting under an apple tree in a wheelchair; literally a chair which had been adapted by mounting it on a low cart. The extent of his injuries was quite apparent; he was missing his right leg from the knee down, and all of his right arm. He admitted that his injuries had been caused by the mill machinery, but he also admitted that he had been foolish enough to try to carry out a running repair when he was drunk, that should have been done when the mill was idle.

Although he is clearly in some pain, he insists on showing me through the mill itself, with the help of his wife. He asks me if I have considered running the mill myself, pointing out that he has added several labor-saving devices all of which are powered from the mill's main drive shaft. The devices include an ingenious harnessing of the power to operate sack hoists which can be used to lift heavy weights both inside and outside the mill, and a boulter, for sifting flour to produce a finer grade. Of course, the mill also makes use of several simple machines such as ropes and pulleys for lifting, screws to regulate the grain feed, and levers on the weighing scales.

My own thinking is that, for the rather high one thousand nine hundred and fifty guilders asking price, we could not only have a useful base of operations in this time, but a very important source of much-needed income in local coin.

Before committing to a deal it seems sensible to ask the miller about the craft of milling. If there is one thing that I have learned in my travels (and my colleagues agree) it is that there are very few occupations in this age that don't involve some knowledge of specialized skills. The miller chuckles and tells me that when he started learning, all his master would tell him was that he needed to know how to "whistle up the wind" on a calm day! However, there are some things that are worth knowing and he doesn't mind teaching me. For example, whenever you have to make a part for machinery that will be exposed to water on a regular basis, use elm rather than oak, for elm will outlast oak when immersed in water and both are roughly equally hard for durability.

It is as we are descending to the exit door that I hear something scrabbling on the stairs behind us, and turn around just in time to see a very-well-fed mouse skitter down the wall and into a crevice. Despite being startled by the mouse, I am reminded of a favorite song from my own younger days: (also in Dutch)

X:73                          % number
T:A Mouse lived in a windmill
M:3/4
O:http://www.mudcat.org/thread.CFM?threadID=10434 Q:1/4=160 P:ABABABA K:G P:A VERSE ^A6 |"G" B2 d2 DD |"C" E2 G2 G2 |"F" A2c2C2 |"Bb" D4 D2 |"Eb" G2^A2^A,^A, | w:A mouse lived in a wind-mill in old Am-ster-dam, A wind-mill with a "Ab" C2 ^D2 ^D2 |"D" D2 F2 A2 |"G" G2 B3 ^A |B2 d2 D2 |"C" E2 G2 G2 |"F" A c3 C2 | w:mouse in and he was-n't grous-in'. He sang eve-ry morn-ing, "How luc-ky I "Bb" D6 |"Eb" G2 ^A2 ^A,^A, |"Ab" C2 ^D2 ^D2 |"D" D2 F2 A2| "G" G6 || w:am, Liv-ing in a wind-mill in old Am-ster-dam!" P:B CHORUS G6 |-G2 B2 d2| "C" e6 | c6 |"G" d2 B2 G2 | D6 |"D" c2 A2 F2 | D4 e2 |"G" d5 ^c | w:I_ saw a mouse! Where? There on the stair! Where on the stair? Right there! A d^c d2 ^d2 |"C" e6 | c6 |"G" d2 B2 G2 | D2 e2 d2 |"A" ^c2 ^cA ^c2 |"D" c2 A2 F2 | w:lit-tle mouse with clogs on. Well I de-clare! Go-ing clip-clip-pe-ty-clop on the "G" G2 DEGB | A2 G2 A2 | G6 |] w:stair! * * * * * * Oh yeah! W: W:This mouse, he got lonesome, he took him a wife W:A windmill with mice in, it’s hardly surprisin’ W:She sang every morning “How lucky I am W:Living in a windmill in old Amsterdam” W: W:(Chorus) W: W:First they had triplets and then they had quins W:A windmill with quins in, triplets and twins in W:They sang every morning “How lucky we are W:Living in a windmill in Amsterdam – ya” W: W:(Chorus) W: W:The daughters got married and so did the sons W:The windmill had christenings when no one was listening W:They all sang in chorus “How lucky we am W:Living in a windmill in old Amsterdam” W: W:(Chorus) W: W:A mouse lived in a windmill, so snug and so nice W:There’s nobody there now but a whole load of mice W: W:EEN MUIS IN EEN MOLEN IN MOOI AMSTERDAM W: W:Er was eens een muisje in mooi Amsterdam W:Dat zat in een molen heel stiekem verscholen W:Hij zong elke morgen: 'Wat is het toch fijn W:Een muis in een molen in Mokum te zijn' W: W:REFREIN: Ik zag een muis. Waar? W:Daar op de trap. Waar op de trap? W:Nou, daar! W:Een kleine muis op klompjes W:Nee, 't is geen grap W:'t Ging van klipklipperdieklap op de trap W:Oh ja! W: W:Het muisje was eenzaam en zocht naar een vrouw W:En 'Piep' zei de muis in het voorhuis, 'ik trouw' W:Dus zongen ze samen 'Wat is het toch fijn W:Een muis in een molen in Mokum te zijn'. REFREIN W: W:Ma Muis kreeg een vijfling, en allen gezond W:Dus aten de muisjes beschuitjes met muisjes W:En iedereen zong toen 'Wat is het toch fijn W:Een muis in een molen in Mokum te zijn'. REFREIN W: W:De muizenfamilie werd vreselijk groot W:De molenaar vluchtte, hij was als de dood W:Voor de muizen die zongen ' Wat is het toch fijn W:Een muis in een molen in Mokum te zijn. REFREIN W: W:De muizen die hebben het fijn naar hun zin W:De molen staat leeg want geen mens durft er in... W:Ieeeee! 

To convert the code above to sheet music, or listen to the tunes, copy the code for a single song, then paste it here and [submit].

Of course, by the time we are on the ground outside the mill once more, two of the mill cats are snoozing in the sun. Blissfully ignorant of the juicy meal they might have had.

The Mother, the Maid and the Hag in downtown Ankh-Morpork

I don't know quite what happened! I was supposed to zero in on sixteenth century Berkshire, England, but instead, found myself stumbling around in the dark, in some stinky alternate reality behind a place called "The Mended Drum" on Dwarves Night. Apparently six nights of the week, the place allows trolls in, but in the interests of keeping enough furniture to sit on, and drink off, they have separate nights when dwarves or trolls (or the undead, or what-have-you) are not allowed in. So the barkeep gives me this funny look (I stand head and shoulders above most of the drinking clientele who aren't so much drinking as sloshing it, and singing) but I still get my half-pint anyway which seems to take the paint off my throat and while I'm trying to be inconspicuous in a corner this small person who goes by Tor Stronginthearm nearly nails me with a throwing axe and insists that I join in the singing, unless I'm a troll-fancier!
X:70 % number
T:Gold! Gold! Gold! % title
C:Eodric Shortensweet (aka Myscha Aiken) % composer
O:Songs from The Gold Mind % origin.
N:Rests may be punctuated by clinksloshing tankards
N:Of authentic Dwarf ale, thumping on tables, banging
N:Of tankards on tables, or throwing things.
N:With acknowledgements to Terry Pratchett's Discworld
N:Sagas, without which this would never have happened.
M:4/4 % meter
L:1/4 % length of shortest note
Q: % tempo
K:F % key
V:1 % voice 1
"F"FCFC | "F"AGF z | "Bb"BG "F"AF | "C7"GFE z |
w:Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! "F"FCFC | "F"AGF z | "Bb"BG "F"AF | "C7"GC "F"F2 |]
w: Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold!

It was after this, that three ladies entered the bar, one of whom later insisted on teaching the dwarves the song "The Hedgehog can never be buggered at all", and how to play "Cripple Mister Onion". (I found out later that the singing tutor was Mistress "Nanny" Ogg (with her disreputable cat, Greebo), and her companions, Granny Weatherwax and Magrat Garlick).

X:2
T:The Hedgehog Can Never Be Buggered At All % title
C:Eodric Shortensweet (Myscha Aiken) % composer
O:Songs from the Gold Mind % origin.
M:3/4 % meter
L:1/4 % length of shortest note
Q:240 % tempo
K:F % key
V:1 % voice 1
"F" z A B | c A B | c d e | f e d | c2 "C" A |
w:If you're need-ing some help, give the squir-rels a call, in
B G B | "F" A F A | "D" G A =B | "C" c2 "F" A/ B/ |
w:Sum-mer or Spring, but they're bus-y in Fall, but don't
c A B | c d e | f e d | c2 "C" A/ c/ |
w:both-er the hedge-hog, you'll hit a brick wall, for the
B G B | "D" A F "F" D | C D E | F2 z |]
w:hedge-hog can nev-er be bug-gered at all.
W:
W:Everybody knows dogs
W:love to play with a ball
W:If you reach for the leash they're right there in the hall
W:but the hedgehog's disdain
W:is inclined to appal
W:for the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.
W:
W:If you fall in a heap
W:you can count on a sheep
W:to have you back up on your feet standing tall
W:but the hedgehog, it seems
W:is in apathy's thrall,
W:for the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.
W:
W:You should know that a horse
W:Will support you of course,
W:And will give of his best though he stumble and fall,
W:But a hedgehog would rather
W:Remain in his stall,
W:For the hedgehog can never be buggered at all.

Towards midnight the few humans remaining in the bar gravitated to the ladies' table where I learned another of the popular songs in the city of Ankh-Morpork: A Wizard's Staff Has A Knob On The End...

X:3
T:A Wizard's Staff Has A Knob On The End % title
C:Myscha Aiken % composer
O: % origin.
M:3/4 % meter
L:1/4 % length of shortest note
Q:240 % tempo
P:ABA
K:F % key
V:1 % voice 1
P:A (VERSE) "F" z z C | F2 F | F F d | c A G | F2 A | "C" B2 c | d2 e | "F" f2 z |
w:1.A wiz-ard's staff has a knob on the end and runes run up the shaft, It's
w:2.A wiz-ard's staff has a knob on the end, Some are made from thinking wood,
z z C | F2 F | F2 d | c A G | F G A | "C" B2 A | G F E | "F" F2 z ||
w:1.long and proud and sti-ff and loud, It's the pride of wi-z-ard-craft._
w:2.With~a sapi-ent pear you'd be out to there, And you'd go blind, yes_ you would._
P:B (CHORUS)
z z C | "F" F2 F | F F d | c A G | F2 A | "C" G E D | C2 "F" C | D C A | F2 C |
w:A Wiz-ard's staff has a knob on the end, a knob on the end, a knob on the end, A
A F2 F | F F d | c A G | F2 "C" A | G A G | C D E | "F" F2 F ||
w:Wiz-ard's staff has a knob on the end, and what he does with it is ma-gic!
W:A wizard's staff has a knob on the end
W:That looks like a silver nut
W:If you start to bleat when he's taken your seat
W:He'll crack it up your butt.
W:
W:(Chorus.)
W:
W:A wizard's staff has a knob on the end
W:And the odd frog knows it's true
W:When your staff has a bend then the spell you send
W:Can fly right back at you.
W:
W:(Chorus)
W:
W:A wizard's staff has a knob on the end
W:Most useful if they knew it
W:It's just that fem isn't magical to them
W:So they never ever do it.
W:
W:(Chorus)
W:
W:(last verse maestro please)
W:A wizard's staff has a knob on the end
W:And you may think it's tragic
W:That no matter how strong or thick or long
W:All he can do with it is magic.
W:
W:(Chorus)
To convert the code above to sheet music, or listen to the tunes, copy the code for a single song, then paste it here and [submit].

Saint Patrick's Day 2008

What could possibly be better than celebrating Saint Patrick's Day 2008 at the Buggleskelly Motor Show? Sponsored by Flanagan's Garage the highlight of this year's show is Mr. O'Rafferty's kit-car. Internationally famous as the founder of Ireland's home-built car industry, Dinny O'Rafferty's roadster is a superb example of Irish ingenuity and engineering skill.
Capable of an astonishing 90mph on just one gallon of Guinness, it remains the envy of more sophisticated automotive designers.

X:68 % number
T: O'Rafferty's Motor Car % title
C:Tommie Connor % composer
O:Songs and Dances of Ireland% origin.
M:6/8 % meter
L:1/8 % length of shortest note
P:AB
Q:180 % tempo
K:C % key
V:1 % voice 1
P:A
G |: "C" ccc "F" ccc | "C" c2 G EFG | "D7" A2 c "G7" d2 B | "C" c3-c2 G |
w:Now Din-ny O' Raf-fer-ty's mo-tor car is the great-est I de-clare,_ It's
Gcc "F" c2 c | "C" c2 G E2 G | "D7" A2 d d2 c | "G7" B3-B2 G |
w:made up of bits and piece-s that he's picked up here and there,_ The
"F" A2 A A2 c | "Em" B2 G EFG | "F" A2 G "G7" F2 A |"C" G3-GGG |
w:en-gine must be age-s old but it's still got lots of power,_ With a
Gcc "F" cBc | "C" c2 G EFG | "D7" A2 c "G7" d2 B | "C" c3-c2 G ||
w:gal-lon of stout in the pet-rol tank it does nine-ty miles an hour!_ Oh
P:B
"C" e2 c cBc | e2 c cGG | "D7" A2 c "G7" B2 c |
w:What a won-der-ful mo-tor car, it's the great-est ev-er
"C" c3-c2 G | Gcc "F" ccc | "C" c2 G EFG | "D7" A2 d d2 c |
w:seen!_ It used to be black as me fath-er's hat, now it's For-ty Shades of
"G7" B3-B2 G | "F" A2 A A2 c | "Em" B2 G EFG | "F" A2 G F2 A |
w:Green!_ On T. V. and the Ra-di-o and in ev-'ry pub-lic
"C" G3-G2 G | "F" G2 c "F#dim" c2 c | "C" c2 G EGG | "D7" ABc "G7" d2 B |
w:bar,_ the burn-ing ques-tion of the day is O'-Raf-fer-ty's mo-tor
[1-4 "C" c3-c2 z | z4 z G : |[5 "C" c3-c z3 : |
w:car!_ Now car!_
W:
W:Now two of the wheels are triangular and the third one's off a pram.
W:The Fourth is the last remaining wheel from off a Dublin tram,
W:The number plate's in Gaelic and the plugs won't even spark,
W:And the chassis came off of a tinker's cart that collapsed in Phoenix Park.
W:
W:Chorus
W:
W:Now go for a ride in that motor car and you'll end up with the shakes;
W:The road from Cork to Dublin is a vale of pains and aches,
W:When traffic lights turn red ahead then you'd best jump out the door,
W:For the minute that Dinny treads on the brake, then his foot goes through the floor!
W:
W:Chorus
W:
W:Now if you could see the upholstery, then your eyes would start to pop,
W:It's nothing but empty beer crates with a load of sacks on top.
W:The windscreen's gone to Lord-knows-where and there's mothballs in the horn,
W:And I reckon he'd only get half a quid if he took it to the pawn.
W:
W:Chorus
W:
W:Now Dinny was driving 'round last week when the engine did the splits!
W:It went up in smoke and nearly blew O'Connell Street to bits!
W:They searched for Dinny and they found he'd landed up by heck
W:Away on top of the G.P.O.¹ with his L-plates² round his neck!
W:
W:Chorus

1. General Post Office
2. L-plates, used to identify a learner driver

X:69 % number
T:My Car % title
C:Myscha Aiken % composer
O:Deer Run Lane Asylum for the Musically Incompetent % origin.
M:4/4 % meter
L:1/4 % length of shortest note
Q:240 % tempo
K:C % key
V:1 % voice 1
F D C F | C D C F | D C F2 |
w:I bought a car to-day, I got a good deal!
F G D E | D G D E | D G E D | G2 z C |
w:It has-n't got a sun-roof or a ste-er-ing wheel, but
D E E D | C E C D | C F F E | ^D =D2 z |
w:It's got a lot of fea-tures that I think are re-al neat;
D D G G | A G2 F | D E F ^F | G3 z |
w:I can e-ven e-ject from the pas-sen-ger seat!
W:
W:I took it to the carwash to get the full wax
W:It made the rust fall off, but it filled all the cracks
W:Then out onto the motorway, we really had fun
W:We shot a ring and blew smoke till we blacked out the sun!
W:
W:Underneath the dashboard I pulled out a loose wire,
W:It turned the heater on and the dashboard caught fire!
W:I doused it with my mug of tea, you know what I mean,
W:And when the sparks stopped we had a smoky windscreen.
W:
W:I sold my car today, the buyer paid cash.
W:I didn't hang about, I was gone in a flash.
W:It's hard to get the parts for these peculiar makes;
W:It hasn't got an oil filter, headlamps or brakes!

To convert the code above to sheet music, or listen to the tunes, copy the code for a single song, then paste it here and [submit].

A quiet evening with Friends

Over the past few weeks I've been putting a lot of energy into several projects, and felt perhaps it was time to take a break for a bit. The idea of spending a couple of hours with some good company and a drink or two seemed very appealing. I don't know what I said, or did, or whether it was Bacchus or Vulcan that I offended, but that quiet drink was interrupted by a fire alarm.
X:55 % number
T:The Old Dun Cow % title
C:Anon. % composer
O:Irish drinking song % origin.
M:4/4 % meter
L:1/4 % length of shortest note
Q:240 % tempo
P:ABA
K:C % key
V:1 % voice 1
P:A
B G E E | B G E E | e e/d/ c/d/ e | e B3 |
w:Some friends and I in a public house was play-in' dom-in-oes one night
B A ^F F | B G E E | E ^F F/^G/ ^A F | B3 z |
w:When into the pub a fire-man ran, his face all a chalk-y white!
B G E E | B G E E | e e/d/ c/d/ e | e B3 |
w:"What's up?" says Brown, "Have you seen a~ghost? or have you seen your Aunt Mar-iah?"
^f g g f | ^f e d B | A B e ^d | ^f e3 ||
w:"Me Aunt Mar-iah be buggered!" says he, "the bleed-in' pub's on fire!"
P:B
B G E E | B G E E | e/d/ c/d/ e/d/ e | B2 A2 |
w:And there was Brown, up-side down, mop-ping up the whis-ky on the floor. "Booze!"
^F>B G E | E E ^F F | ^F/^G/ ^A/^F/ | B2 "_(clap!"z "_clap!)"z |
w:"Booze!" The fire-men cried, as they came knock-ing on the door!
B G E E | B G E E | e e/d/ c/d/ e | e B2 "_Macintyre!"z |
w:Oh don't let~'em in till~it's all drunk up! Some-bo-dy shout-ed Mac-In-tyre!
e/^f/ g e ^f | d e/^f/ e/d/ B | G/A/ B e ^d | ^f e2 z |]
w:Well we all got blue-blind par-a-lyt-ic drunk when the Old Dun Cow caught fire!
W:
W:Chorus
W:
W:"Oh well," says Brown, "What a bit of luck. Everybody follow me.
W:And it's down to the cellar If the fire's not there. Then we'll have a grand old spree."
W:So we went on down after good old Brown, The booze we could not miss
W:And we hadn't been there ten minutes or more Till we were all quite pissed.
W:
W:Chorus
W:
W:Then, Smith walked over to the port wine tub And gave it just a few hard knocks (clap! clap!)
W:Started takin' off his pantaloons, Likewise his shoes and socks.
W:"Hold on, " says Brown, "that ain't allowed, Ya cannot do that thing here.
W:Don't go washin' trousers in the port wine tub When we got Guinness beer."
W:
W:Chorus
W:
W:Then there came from the old back door The Vicar of the local church.
W:And when he saw our drunken ways, He began to scream and curse.
W:"Ah, you drunken sods! You heathen clods! You've taken to a drunken spree!
W:You drank up all the Benedictine wine And you didn't save a drop for me!"
W:
W:Chorus
W:
W:And then there came a mighty crash - Half the bloody roof caved in!
W:We were almost drowned in the firemen's hose But still we were gonna stay.
W:So we got some tacks and some old wet sacks And we nailed ourselves inside
W:And we sat drinking the finest Rum Till we were bleary-eyed.
W:
W:Chorus
W:
W:Later that night, when the fire was out We came up from the cellar below.
W:Our pub was burned. Our booze was drunk. Our heads was hanging low.
W:"Oh look", says Brown with a look quite queer. Seems something raised his ire.
W:"Now we gotta get down to Murphy's Pub, It closes on the hour!"

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