![]() ![]() ![]() Tonight, you will paint the bar, and the town, red. It is not an alcoholic drink you seek, but one of blood. In a fit of sober anger, you grab the nearest barstool and clobber blocky drunk after blocky drunk to make your way to the bar where your drink awaits. The bartender is overwhelmed with unruly customers, and there is nowhere to sit. ![]() ![]() At the far end of the room, a cover band is playing what you think is rock music, but their dreams of musicmaking need not leave the premises. You find yourself in a bar packed from floor to ceiling with blockheads (not stupid people, mind you, but actual folks with blocks for heads).
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