Hi. I’m the Bad Bar. I smell like the men’s bathroom but after four drinks, you won’t care. My floors are mysteriously always sticky. Everything glows here. Because it’s magic. And I want you. To want. Me.
Hi, I’m a skinny blonde bitch who has overly processed hair and wears black tank tops. I tan every day of my life. I have wrinkles and leathery skin. Hi. I’m twenty three. How are you? Can I just claim your barstool, because I’m skinny and blonde and tan and so obviously more deserving than you? Hi, oh, is that your purse? Yeah, I’m not sorry. You’re ugly and I? Am a waitress with three kids from different daddies, but I still find time for what’s important, you know? Like partying.
Hi. If my husband goes out drinking, we won’t be having sex for days, so he chooses to not go out. So we’ll just go home instead and watch Touched By An Angel and be smug.
Hi. I’m almost fifty years old and my shirt has the top six buttons undone, exposing my hairy barrel chest. Care to dance, baby?
Hi. I’m the Bald Bartender. Another Malibu and Diet? No, no, crazy dancing chubby girl with the big hooters, this one’s on me. Again. Here’ it’s in a pink glass. For you, Tinkerbelle girl, for you.
Hi, we’re Eric and Scotty Boom Boom and Jason and we’re proud members of the Weet’s Boy Harem even though we get nothing sexual out of it. She lets us buy her drinks, though!
Hi, I’m Scotty Boom Boom and that’s not entirely true, because she’s shown me her cleave. Yeah. That’s right. Bring it on, baby.
Hi, I’m Cheri’s camera. I take freaky blurred pictures of certain people, just like on The Ring and now you’re all probably going to die.
Hi. Whoooooo! Whoooooooo!!! Whoooooo!!!
Hi, we’re Pixy Sticks. We’re more addictive than crack. At least we don’t turn your neck colors like the candy necklaces. Snort us like cocaine! It’s fun! Wheee! Candy!
Hi. I’m Mo. I like to rub myself up against my sister until she gags. I think it’s funny. Oh, wait, I have to go now and stop her from beating up the skinny blonde bitches.
Hi, I’m Outside. It’s nice and cool out here. And there’s a porn shop up the street. Yeah. Outside is where it’s at.
Hi. I should probably wear deodorant. But I don’t.
Hi. I’m Markus. Holy shit, Mo just flashed me. My entire trip is now complete. Flashed! I got flashed! You have four eyes, but all of them are blue. Yes, I have been doing shots, how did you know? Gonna lay down now on this bench. Flashed! Heeee!
Hi. Your shirt is very nice. Almost as nice as mine. No, nicer, because it contains your lovely boobies. And yes, I just complimented your boobies in front of your husband. If you notice me limping later, it might be due to my enormous set of balls.
Hi. I like big butts. I cannot lie.
Hi. I’m the Lesser Pole of Support. Once upon a time, there was a boy who did some dirty dancing against me. He said he’d call, but he doesn’t. They never call. Now and then I see him across the bar, but he doesn’t even look my way. And now he’s kissing that blonde as if I mean nothing to him. NOTHING. Men are all pigs.
Hi. I’ve got a mullet and a truck with fourteen different Calvin Peeing stickers on them. I think Jeff Gordon is gay and it makes me want to punch him for proving that Nascar isn’t comprised of only mouthbreathing conformists. Another Bud Light please.
Hi, I’m Joel. I called Weet ‘babe’ at the restaurant. Why she can call everyone ‘Baby’ here, but I can’t call her ‘babe’ at the restaurant? Girls are weird.
Hi. I’m Boone’s Farm cheapass wine. You’re very pretty. Marry me?
Hi. I’m The Lion Sleeps Tonight. I’ve been played three times since you got here. A weema woppa weema woppa. I beat up Play That Funky Music White Boy so that I could go up a fourth time too. Nothing makes me happier than a bunch of drunk men singing falsetto and thinking they’re very talented. A weema woppa weema woppa.
Hi, I’m Nancy the cute bartender with the black wig and kick ass boots. Even though you’re a girl and I am completely heterosexual, I am strangely drawn to you and must give you free drinks. You want ten shots? Ok. I’ll charge you for five.
Hi, I’m Esteban and no, I won’t admit that the Bad Bar is fun. My wife has received drinks on the house for the last three hours. They’ve charged me for every damn drink I order. A less comfortable man would probably be upset by that.
Hi, it’s me again. I forgot to tell you’. Woooooooo! Wooooooooo! Woooooooooo!!!!
