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Fairy BrewHaHa at the Lucky Nickel Saloon [MultiFormat]
eBook by Ken Rand
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eBook Category: Fantasy
eBook Description: Us regulars at the Lucky Nickel Saloon, Second Avenue, Laramie, Wyoming Territory, US of A, are shocked to hear from Mick, the Irish barkeep, that his mortgage is due tomorrow. Bankruptcy looms, dire straits for certain sure, as we-all're broke and none of us can get credit nowheres else. Sudden-like, a gang of fairies invades town. They're intent of robbing the circus, just arrived in town for a show, of payroll gold. But before the robbery, said bandits intend to get drunk on Fairy BrewHaHa, concocted, so the legend in Fairyland goes, only in the Lucky Nickel and nowheres else. Trouble is, Mick, who brewed said brew afore he gave up sipping at his own stock long ago, can't remember the secret formula. BH better remember quick, as the fairies get agitated and commence to breaking up furniture and glassware. Trapped under the saloon piano by the furious fairy folk, yer faithful narrator Tom Dooley (at-yer-service), plus gunslinger Banky, one-eyed gambler Casper, Mick the Irish barkeep and his soiled dove affianced Emma Drummond, back-east dude reporter Sam Something, along with circus strongman Tom Murphy and his mermaid wife Missy Lizzy (who resides in a water barrel), and don't forget Charlie although he's asleep, and good ol' one-legged Jack Thatcher, plus the circus folk (except for Clementine, the elephant) must do battle--guns, poker, fisticuffs, swinging parasol, and wooden leg clubs--with the fairy horde. We got ourselves a saloon to save.
eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: Five Star, 2005
Fictionwise Release Date: February 2006
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Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [1.0 MB], eReader (PDB) [211 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [200 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [176 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [181 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [232 KB], hiebook (KML) [482 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [249 KB], iSilo (PDB) [164 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [205 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [247 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [258 KB]
Words: 59843
Reading time: 170-239 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
 
"Lucky Nickel is the kind of saloon we'd all like to visit in the old West ... a heck of a ride."--Hugo and World Fantasy Award nominee Jay Lake
"A weird and wonderful bar where fantastical things happen, populated by a crew of loonies and weirdos, presided over by a Mick, and narrated by a garrulous goofball? It's such a great idea, I can't believe nobody's thought of it before! Ken Rand's Wyoming barflies are an intriguing crew, as colorful as an exploding rainbow, and as weird as a basketball bat. Rand is one seriously--no, one hilariously twisted fella, and Fairy BrewHaha at the Lucky Nickel Saloon is a most promising debut."--Spider Robinson, author of Callahan's Con
Chapter oneIt was mighty tranquil this morning at the Lucky Nickel, which is how us regulars like it, but this morning, it was too tranquil. Mick was late opening up and us regulars were getting a tad worried. Me--Tom Dooley, at your service--and fellow regulars Banky and Casper stood on the wooden sidewalk in front of the Lucky Nickel Saloon, Second Ave, Laramie, Wyoming Territory, U S of A, waiting, looking up and down the quiet street, bewildered. The big double doors behind the usually open batwing saloon doors were locked up tighter than a banker's conscience, a lock as big as a cuspidor firmly affixed thereto.
Jack Thatcher hadn't arrived yet and I expected other fellow-regular Charlie was still asleep under the piano inside, where he plopped when he passed out Saturday night, last we seen him, his usual spot. It was Monday now, and knowing Charlie, I didn't expect he'd waken till about suppertime this aft.
"Wonder where he's at?" Casper wondered. He lifted his black leather eyepatch, took out his glass eye, huffed a garlicky breath on it, buffed it on his shirtsleeve, put it back in, leaving the eyepatch up on his forehead, and squinted up and down the street out his good eye. His glass eyeball wandered northwestward of its own accord.
It was still forenoon judging by the long shadows laying across the dusty street, going to be a hot one and a body needed shade and liquid refreshment in such heat so we waited for Mick to open up because there ain't a better nor more tranquil place for such activity as the Lucky Nickel Saloon. I saw naught on the street but one scrawny hound pissing in the water trough in front of Stuyvesant & Sweeney's Livery Stable across the street, and an old miner passing by slowly, asleep and snoring astride his mule, another pack mule in tow, heading for some thither diggings, or wherever his mule took him. A crow hollered from atop the peaked roof of the false front of Hanson & Stern Dry Goods & Notions betwixt Stuyvesant & Sweeney's and Missy's Finer Dressery and I heard a cow moo. I think. It may have been Banky passing wind.
"Maybe he fell down an outhouse somewheres," Banky conjectured. He fiddled with the door handle and tugged on the lock, reaffirming that it was still locked, as it was when he tried the same solution ten seconds afore, then his gun-hand went twitchy near his ever-ready Colt, as if he was fixing to draw.
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