The soft click clack of heels heralds her arrival. Pushing her sunglasses onto the top of her head she looks around slowly and winces at the state of the place.
She stamps her foot calls out in a strange language, and gives a long high pitched whistle. Two small humanoid creatures with bark skin, sap brown eyes and ivy strands for hair seem to rise from the floor and hover before her.

She points around the room and makes a series of orders in a strange language. In seconds the strange creatures are racing around the room, gathering up rubbish and putting it into neat piles.

Striding through the activity like this is perfectly normal she walks behind the bar and checks everything is as it should be.
Fortunately Curvy had been looking after BB and the boiler didn't take long to get running again.

The thick pungent sludge was removed from the boiler and put to one side for the real caffeine addicts. A bag of Italian roasted beans is opened and poured into the huge hopper ready to make fresh coffee.

Making a complicated gesture in the air and chanting in a low melodic ritual , a small rain cloud forms above the boiler and starts to rain heavily into it. Tiny lightning bolts flash within it and the heavy downpour fills the tank in a few minutes.

While the tank is being filled she cleans the big kettle and sets it open and ready to boil.

Another short command and the cloud drifts over to the massive kettle and rains into that too.
When the kettle is full, the lid snaps closed as though by an invisible hand.

Smoke pours from the carved wooden sign on the bar. The sign changes from The Witch is OUT to IN.

A wave her hand makes a tray of buttermilk fruit scones appear, and a big plate of generous biscuit cake squares.
Looking around she puts her sunglasses on the bar and runs her fingers through her hair flicking it out.

Good morning my drunken animals, I hope life is going well for you all.

I never knew James was such a big softie, I always thought he was the kind of man my mother always warned me about. A silver fox, with a dazzling smile, soft seductive eyes and a walk that bypasses your brain and goes directly to your hips.
Then again he very well might be, I think the circuitry he'd be using is running a different current to mine.

Anyway, the competition is drawing to a close my lovely Lushies. I'm hoping to steal some time and go visit the grid, so I can see what the other contestants have whipped up.

I would say that if there's some daft idea that the best way up the mountain is to throw the others off, you're wasting your time. The admins are far far smarter then you imagine, I imagine them being like the super AI from Neuromancer but that's the Cyberpunk in me, don't think you're going to avoid their attention.
Sure support your pals, but that doesn't mean the other writers are crap, they just do something different.

Let's all celebrate the many different voices we have to enjoy in this competition. Some familiar faces, some new ones. A whole lot of different ways to interpret being a Fool. I for one am thrilled when I see the entry list getting longer and the standard as high as it is.
Then again I like to torment people and making the contest judges sweat having to whittle down to a final ten from this lot if just what I like to see.
Some if you have one last roll of the dice in you, throw your entry in too. Let's really make those judges sweat over the tiny differences to pick a winner.

I'm going to be changing my lovely banner soon, I have a fab new project I'm kicking off soon. Watch this space.

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