(Gamma World) This is Not a Test #19 - The Wrong Celery

 Our heroes, the De Facto Explorers, after sufficient rest, are ready to explore Fair-Town!

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Sneaky Pete: A mutated weasel scout.  Pete's telepathy and night vision take a backseat when he whips out his electrical powers.  Recovering from his injuries from the Glow near Ulmin.

Sonny Helianthus: a sentient sunflower artifact examiner with Restorationist ties. 

Slitheran Wurmtail (aka Squiggles): a mutated earthworm scout, in impromptu power armor, looking for trouble, and finding it often.

Lathar Bracken: A pure-strain human from River Bend.  He's got the muscle, the face, and a mount for most encounters.  Lathar's trusty beast of burden, No Name, travels wherever he does.  Looking for trouble in all the right places.  

Ramsay Kallax:  Mutated Ram from the far-off KIA Academy with a predilection for ancient treasures... and the occasional head-butt. 

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After an engaging afternoon and the Fair-Town "Bug Mart", everyone acquiring random accessories of the Ancients, and Squiggles meeting and attempting to woo, another mutant worm, the street lamps were being lit, and it was time for food and shelter.  

Ubenda agreed to a morning rendezvous with Squiggles before departing. 

Sonny inquired with Loman where he'd recommend a place to stay.

"The Triple Comfort Inn is my place of choice, if you can get one for the Queen's Weekend."

"Do they have an garden?  I don't really need a room."  

"I don't know.  Don't care."

Travelling to the Triple Comfort, they were met my a well-dressed mutant river frog. 

The Innkeeper 

They were able to obtain one rooms, and Sonny found a spot behind the building, far enough away from the privies.

"But what about a stable for No Name?"  Lathar asked, not expecting his mount to last in the town overnight tied to the post.

"I'd much prefer a stall to sleep." Ramsey added.  "I don't get comfortable in a bed."

Finding a stable just around the corner, Ramsay realized he could see the meditating Sunflower behind the Triple Comfort.  Lathar and Pete left the stables, and headed right towards the city gates they entered from.  Pete was definitely interested in the exotic weapon the town guard had in their guard shack.  Unfortunately, the gates were locked and the shack was on the outside of the walls.  Guards patrolled the narrow3 top of the walls. wielding spears.

Seeing Pete calculating his chances to get in trouble while he further investigated, Lathar grabbed the weasel by the arm, "Save that for tomorrow, let's get a drink..."

The pair got a bit lost, and finally found a tavern, named "The Wrong Celery" 

The tavern was populated entirely by mutant plants.  

The Wrong Celery (NightCafe)

On a small stage, a Tulip was playing an organ grinder, while five small dandelions danced beneath him.   

The duo walked up to the bar, and the music stopped.  The two dozen plant patrons stared at the non-plants with some concern.

Lathar faced the plants, with arms outstretched, "Friends... what's better than roses on a harpsicord?  Tulips on an organ.  Be as you were!"

Most of the plants quickly chuckled and turned back to their drinks.   

The only other mammal in the bar was the dishwasher, but even he had a greenish glow on his skin.   

The bartender was an unusual looking bush, growing some sort of beans. 

"This should be fun.  Whaddya boys want?"

The back of the bartender

"Know anybody we can get topsoil from?"

"We're not that kind of establishment, sir."

"Just asking for a plant friend...  Can we get a drink for human consumption."

"Ok boys, two for the non-regulars, buddy."

One of the previously dancing dandelions at the end of the bar pushed two mugs down with all its might.

"Five domars apiece, you'll each only need one."

One sip and they both determined it was mead.   A few more sips, and the organ grinder kicked off its show again. 

As they looked around a steady flow of plant flowed in and out of the place.  

As they stood up to leave, the green-skinned human came out to bus tables.

"You guys into plants, or here for the Queen."

"Queen.  Why are you here bud?"

He pointed towards his arm, "Sages call this photosynthetic.  I like a sunny day like a garden."

"Cool, so what's up with the Queen.  Is there a ball?  Do the local go?"

"It's going to be quite the event.  I mean, tomorrow night we won't have an empty seat, and the drunks will flow out onto the sidewalk.  The only problem for you guys is that everything starts up really early tomorrow.  Streets will be ready at the crack of dawn for the tents to be set up."

"Tents?  Where?"

"The B-Mart is used for the tents, there's games, competitions, and a joust."

Lathar's ears perked up, "How does one sign-up for a the joust?"

The dishwasher, Clark, gave directions to the jousting pavilion, and went back to his duties.

The pair wandered out The Wrong Celery towards the other side of town.

Pete had an idea, "Hey, you're going to need one of Loman's helmets!   Better yet, I'm going to find out how to bet against you."

Sign-ups at the pavilion were simple and straightforward.  Lathar stabbed his finger and he signed his name in blood, using his name on his shield as a guide.  He pondered for a moment to sign up both of them for a pie-eating contest, but thought the better of it. 

One the way back, both of them could spy a couple crews of townsfolks with barrels and carts, cleaning up the side streets.

"Why are you going to bet against me?" 

"Maybe it might be more advantageous for you to take a fall, if it was financially attractive."

 By the time they reached the Triple Comfort, the gates must have opened, and many carts and wagons were setting up along the sides of the street.

Both Lathar and Pete reached their room and tell face-first into their beds. 

As the human and weasel crashed, Squiggles woke up to the commotion outside.

(NightCafe)

What was an empty street with a vendor or two, was now a mixture of races clogging the streets.  The smell of food wafted through the air.  

He wandered the streets looking for a coffee, but surprisingly no one knew what he was talking of.  After much concern, a kind soul selling potatoes in a booth called "Fry by Knight" got a ahold of him.  "Go to a place called the Wrong Celery.  Talk to the bartender. He'll take care of you.   Freshest beans you'll ever find."

Squiggles rushed down to The Wrong Celery, fighting the mass of humanity that flowed into the town.  Climbing a lamppost to get his bearing, Squiggles stared up and down the main way.  Not only were folks coming in the upriver gate, but the downriver gate was allowing and equal horde. 

Reaching The Wrong Celery, the bartender was quite glad to see him.  

"Hey, friend of the plants!  How can I help you."

"I hear I can get the freshest coffee in town?"

"You want a taste of me?"

"I like my coffee fresh."

"Five domars."

"Make it two, I got a worm friend to impress."

"Pace yourself.  It's a long six days."

A few moments later, two sealed clay cups of coffee in hand, Squiggles was on his way to meet up with Ubenda.   "Come back in a day or two.  Ask for Duncan."

Ramsay awoke in the stable to a different type of commotion.  A number of humans and mutants were in the stable, checking on their animals.   A careful ear could pick up that some of them were prepping their animals for a joust.   He poked his head out.

"This joust thing, what are the rules for non-humans?  Can I participate?"

The people were confused. "You could sign up as a steed... just not Centaurs.  You gotta find a rider and lance."

"What do you win?"

"The love and affection of the Queen.  The Queen loves jousts."

Pete was shocked awake to screaming outside.  Staggering to the window, acrobats were parading down the street, throngs of people at each side.  He staggered downstairs to Ramsay and Sonny at a table, observing a full house.   The frog looked a bit more frazzled.  

Lathar staggered down the steps a few moments later, a bloody rag around his right hand. 

Sonny was confused, "What happened to you two?"

"Have we got a bar for you...."

Next: #20 - The Joust!