12/20 Report!

Thanks to one and all for the excellent times at Casa d'Brendash Saturday night when the wine flowed like beer, the haberdashery was top-notch as expected and the mellow sine-wave of garulous drunk-nosity was ridden by all into the wee hours. Dogs kept the place clean and despite the presence of waaaaay too many candles (check the bIKE cLUB Safety Manual for the various dangers associated with open flames & Cyclonauts in the same room) destruction was kept to an absolute minimum. Best moments were watching Fuller weeble wobble in with the Crossbowmaker and seeing Sean twist in the dead center of a Triangle of Awkwardness (or maybe it was a Quadrangle) of his own devising. At our lawyers request the Twelve Twenty party was again documented only with easily destroyed Polaroid snaps so you'll have to track down the stack yourself and flip thru 'em by hand. A messenger has emerged from deep in the shadows of the Foothills of Lore, themselves trembling in the penumbral shade of the dreaded Mountains of Lore on High from whence acidic fog even now steeps forth from the Muckery. Ensconced within their hardened spittle hibernatory-cocoons the Uber-Ancestors bade me go forth into the world and spread their best wishes for a Happy Holidays and Merry New Year! Well that was a bit of paraphrasing actually as their piercing screech could more accurately be translated as "Whip the drones unto new heights of succulence. Let them feast on their weakest brethren." or something like that. Their heart(s) are in the right place(s) at least, "heart" and "right" being open to interpretation. All the best from Highroller, CHainsaw and Betty should we not meet again until Saturnalia has passed!