Like so many weekends before it, the calm of a September Saturday morning was interrupted by the unscheduled opening of a portal in the park. This one sprang to life in a blaze of blue and gold and a burst of glitter before settling into something more stable ( Read more... )

After taking a nap doing some meditation in the back room, Biff was out behind the counter engaged in his new favorite hobby: harassing humorless evangelicals on the Internet ( Read more... )

Biff, who'd embraced the holiday today, was in his usual place behind the counter, working his way steadily through a bag of mini-Snickers.

He might share if you ask nicely.

Biff had put a very helpful sign in the window of Wellspring Arms today:

WELCOME BACK TO FANDOM. YOU STILL CAN'T BUY ANYTHING HERE

Feeling accomplished, he sat back behind the desk and pondered throwing a Halloween party next weekend.

This was one of Biff's favorite quirks of the island because, let's face it, he was a totally hot chick.

He was currently cruising the web (after having checked inventory to confirm that once again they hadn't sold anything all week), looking for bars with ladies' nights on Sunday.

Wellspring Arms was open.

For no reason at all, really, Biff had chopped up an absolute fuckton (a totally legitimate measurement unit, just ask him) of onions yesterday.

Being a middling chef--man can live on take-out alone, assuming the pizza place doesn't run out of bacon--Biff had no idea what to do with them all. So there he was, Googling "what do do with chopped ( Read more... )

Biff was in a fantastic mood, thank you so much for noticing! His dates last night (except for the longest three minutes ever with...whatshisface. Methuselah) had gone well--he had another date for Friday and was halfway in love with a big-breasted woman who liked to make things explode.

Life was good, and Wellspring Arms was open.

Once the bell or buzzer or windchime or fireball went off for the last time and the dates were all over, Jaina took her place back behind the bar for actual work. Might as well stick around and help out with anyone who wanted to chat with someone they might have clicked with on their dates, or to serve anyone who just wandered in once everything ( Read more... )

Hard to believe only nine minutes had passed since this all started, huh? The daters were still dating, hopefully no one had been transported outside due to trying to attack anyone they had to deal with for three minutes, and all they had to do was survive two more rounds before they could hit the bar.

Happy dating!

[ Post 1 | The Bar Before the ( Read more... )

There was a sign posted at the front door:

G.O.B. Bluth Presents:
The Ninth Annual
Three Minute Dates @ Caritas
hosted by A Matchmaker Named G.O.B.GOB had somehow been able to count to nine despite not being around for the previous six Three Minute Dates, but he still didn't know what 'annual' really meant. But that wasn't important. The important ( Read more... )