Sly pushed back the swinging doors and walked confidently into the thin haze that permeated the pub. Unfortunately, it was empty. All but the bartender in the corner, rubbing a glass with a cloth.
"I always wondered." He asked the bar tender, "Why you don't use soap to wash those things."
The man put the mug down and leaned on the bar. "Because soap kills the head. Don't know the science behind it, but if there's soap residue, the head on the beer will go away far too quickly."
"Why's head so important?"
"Dunno, people like head."
"Apparently." Sly said, taking a seat at a stool. "So where is everybody?"
"Well, you just invented this place, so no one's arrived yet."
"That would seem to be the case now wouldn't it." Sly said, looking around the bar with a bit of loneliness swelling in his chest. "Would be nice to have some company."
"What am I?" The bartender asked.
"Well... you're sort of me, so it's like talking to myself."
"You've got a point." He said, taking another glass and wiping it down.
"You got some Richards Red?"
"I got whatever you want." He said, pouring a pint and sliding it over to the bar's sole occupant.
Sly took a swig, the cool liquid fizzled down his throat satisfyingly before he spoke. "Well, I sure hope some people start showing up."
"Really? I don't." Said the bartender.
"Why's that?" Asked Sly.
The bartender spat some chewing tobacco into a spitoon. "Because every time someone else shows up they get to change this place. Right now I'm a man, with a beard and a leather apron. The bar's a western style, heck you've got a pistol on your hip."
"Huh, would you look at that, didn't even notice." Sly said, pulling it from its holster.
"Point is. Next person to walk in here gets total control. This place could turn in to a 1980's dance club and I could become a blond haired woman wearing fishnet stockings and glitter. The thought makes me want to puke."
"Well, can't they choose to keep the bar the way it is?"
"Sure they can, but who in their right mind would not change things if they had the power to do so?"
"I don't know, someone who likes the setting?"
The bartender looked at him silently, his mustache stirred as he sucked spit from beneath the tobacco in his lip and readied another volley for the spitbox. "Well son, you've got faith in humanity. I'd say as soon as someone else got power over this place they'd spin it 'till nothin' made sense no more."
"I guess we'll just have to wait and see now won't we." Sly said, turning around on the stool and watching the door in expectation of a new customer.
At that, the bartender shook his head. "I hate fishnet stalkings."