Silicon Life: Competition for the Cafe Puke!

Details of a catering merger have emerged that could threaten the continued success of the purveyors of the most vile coffee inside the Museum of Future Technology – Cafe Puke. Secret photographs taken in the undeveloped region of the arboretum strongly suggest that construction of a new cafe is well underway…

Although including a distinctive foyer, the building appears to follow the design of the majority of Cafe Puke outlets. But, as this photograph shows, the hoarding apparently makes mention of the rival cafe chain – Skanki Kaffe. However, leaked pictures of the interior do not support this assertion. Workers were  tight lipped when quizzed about the new-build. Even Rupert Piles  and his huge 3D TV camera, despite trudging back a forth across the doorway all morning, could garner no information…

Nevertheless rumours continue to propagate, particularly when posters purporting that the endeavour is supported by the youngest of the the Earplug Brothers – twins Chester and Miles, and the famous Ice World scientist Uda Spritzer, appeared inside the half-completed future place of business…

Despite denials from Skanki Kaffe that the company has designs on supplanting Cafe Puke as the cafe of choice within the much vaunted and hallowed walls of the Museum of Future Technology, photographic evidence of a conversation between a representative of Skanki Kaffe, and Mister Pong – owner of several Exotic Food restaurants within the museum and the neighbouring conurbation of La Ciudad de Droxford cannot be ignored…

Further evidence came when the museum’s Avatar and the Angel with a Huge Nose were seen blessing the almost complete catering outlet in the middle of the night…

Apparently only the installation of a whooshy, gurgly coffee machine and a futuristic urinal is required to transform the building from a potential cafe into a proper emporium for the celebration of the humble coffee bean – complete with labels such as Cafe au Belch, Vomitino, and Desalinated – all well-known labels belonging to Skanki Kaffe. When interviewed through the side window of a Cafe Puke concession, general manager, Cool-Dude Plantagenate…

…was quoted as saying: “Couldn’t give a plugmutt’s arse. Bring it on Skanki: your Vomitino aint got nothing on our Crappachino: it’s almost potable!”

We await developments.

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2023

 

Silicon Life: Alerta Roco!

It’s not every day that the Cafe Puke goes to red alert. What kind of emergency could it be? Has the crappachino machine malfunctioned?  Is there a newly-formed volcano erupting in the foyer? The guy nearest camera certainly has no idea.

Earplug Adventures: The Veil of Shytar (part 25)

Rightly or wrongly, I figured that the sheer length of some of these extracts (rather than engaging readers) might be putting them off. Maybe they might stay with a thirty-second read, rather than spend a minute or so trying to make sense of my humour and writing style. So today’s episode shouldn’t have anyone looking at their wrist watch and sighing tetchily. Read on…

What the young earplugs heard as they walked between great mounds of edible detritus and empty food canisters in the basement of the Hotel Augustus Pronk, was the story of how Pronk had forced his way into the Veil by means of wire cutters; the subsequent accident that marooned him there; and the Veil’s willingness to create an environment in which he could live in relative comfort.

Bubbles was incredulous. “So the Veil made all this for you?” She said. “Whatever you need, it supplies?”

“Yup, pretty much.” Pronk replied. “I don’t stand there and ask for something: it’s not like that. I guess it reads my mind or something. It knows what I want, and does its best to give me that. It can’t give me a new spaceship or anything: but it can create a reality that suits me. I always wanted to live by the sea and walk beneath an open sky. Of course I couldn’t do either on Worstworld. That’s part of the reason why I ran out on the wife and kids to find a new world. I just wanted space and fresh air. But it has been a rather lonely existence. It’s nice to see you kids. Do you have a space ship to carry you home again?”

“We do.” Bubbles replied. “Do you have something to protect you from the vacuum of space? If so, we can take you home.”

By now they had passed from the basement of the hotel into a brief corridor…

“Kids,” Pronk said as they became aware of a strange mauve being standing in the corridor, “meet Mister Mauve. Please note that he casts no shadow. When I first encountered him I thought he was a hallucination. I mean – he casts no shadow: obviously he must be a product of my imagination. I treated him as such, until one day, when I accidentally spilt some hot coffee over him, he got really angry and punched me in the mouth. Since then I’ve treated him with a modicum of respect – though it’s hard to respect someone who punches you in the mouth. I got my own back though: I shoved his head down the toilet and pulled the flush cord. He follows me almost everywhere – except the toilet of course.”

“Did the Veil create him?” Barclay inquired.

“I don’t know.” Pronk answered, “He wouldn’t say.”

Pronk suddenly changed the subject:

“Hey, would you like a cup of coffee at Augie’s Bar?”

Both terrestrial earplugs were gasping for a coffee. “Please,” they said as one.

They didn’t have to wait long. The very next corner carried them into the bar. A bar that looked very familiar to them…

“Mister Pronk,” Bubbles squealed with a mixture of astonishment and delight, “you’ve got your very own Café Puke!”

Pronk seemed a little surprised at the view…

“I do, don’t I? When I got up this morning, this was Augie’s Bar. What the heck is the Café Puke?”

“Get us a glass of Crappachino,” Barclay said cheerfully, “and we’ll tell you all about it.”

Pronk wasn’t familiar with the barista’s equipment in a Café Puke outlet, but he managed to produce a Crappachino and an Iron Lungo…

“Oh, Mister Pronk,” Bubbles exclaimed, “how did you know I wanted an Iron Lungo?”

“I didn’t.” Pronk answered, “The Veil did. The Veil also knew you would feel more at home in a Café Puke. Ergo, we find ourselves in a Café Puke. But it’s still mauve – like Augie’s Bar.”

“And Mister Mauve.” Barclay noted.

“My favourite colour.” Pronk confirmed Barclay’s fledgling hypothesis.

“Then the Veil knows why we’re here?” Barclay continued.

“Odds-on, I’d say.” Pronk replied. “Why are you here?”

“To save Worstworld.” Mister Mauve spoke from the other end of the café.

Pronk turned an eye on the mauve apparition. “You gonna do it?”

Mister Mauve spent several seconds considering this. “Are we going to place ourselves at risk, to save a bunch of silicon life-forms who are too stupid to get up and leave?” He said.

“I think that’s what I said.” Pronk replied.

Mauve sighed audibly. “I suppose that’s why we’re here.” He said in a complaining tone that put Barclay’s to shame. “And that stupid star is about to go nova after all. Finish your coffees first though: I want to wash up the glasses before Armageddon.”

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2022

Too short? Just right? Let me know.

For the Cafe Puke scene I saved time and energy by using a pre-existing set. A re-lighting, some furniture  moved around, and hey presto! Only the barista’s counter top is new.

Earplug Adventures: The Veil of Shytar (part 5)

Okay, part 4 didn’t set the world on fire: try part 5…

However progress wasn’t as quick as X2 Zero had anticipated: they encountered the huge amorphous blob named Susan coming down the UP ramp. She carried Chester Earplug in a ‘nest’ upon the top of her shape-shifting head…

“Oh,” Chester groaned from his lofty position, “sorry and all that. Susan doesn’t have a problem with left and right; but she does get a bit confused when confronted with up and down. Would you like my autograph? I’m free and easy with them. But I don’t sign underwear.”

“Nah, it’s alright.” Barclay replied. He then added – somewhat sarcastically, or so thought Bubbles: “Merely being in your presence is enough to make our day. This chance meeting with one of the museum’s heroes will forever be indelibly etched in our collective memory.”

“That’s fine,” Chester said through a fixed grin, “please excuse us as Susan makes herself all thin and squeezes past.”

So, moments later…

…they were free of the obstruction and rapidly closing upon their intended destination.

“Don’t stare or anything,” Barclay said as they trotted along – line astern, “but that’s Margret Greenhorn and the Greenhorn Girls to our left.”

“How exciting,” Bubbles whispered back. “They must be blocking out a new routine. I’d loved to have been a dancer: but I’ve got two left feet – even if one of them is on the right.”

“Café Puke, coming right up.” X2 Zero called. “Would you like me to lead you in?”

Barclay didn’t approve of a servomechanism doing only half a job. “Right on.” He said in what he hoped was the robot’s vernacular.

As the robot led its non-paying guests inside, it found the lighting somewhat subdued…

It couldn’t see anyone either. “Shop!” It bellowed through its high-quality user-interface loudspeaker. At this, the lighting burst into incandescent life…

…and some patrons found themselves made visible.

“Oh, that’s better,” one of them said to their friend seated opposite them, “now I can see the sugar knobs.”

Barclay chose this moment to dismiss X2 Zero – before turning his attention to the counter. However this area of the room remained a little dim, and of the Baristas there was no sign…

“Oh Barclay,” Bubbles complained, “I want a Croaky Cortado, but there’s no one to tell!”

The lighting chose that moment to change again. Suddenly the two visitors found themselves bathed in a red light. They also found Mary-Sue Wassack…

“Hi,” she said in an uncharacteristically cheerful manner, “Is that two Croaky Cortadoes?”

“Please.” Barclay, slightly surprised, replied. “Where did you spring from? Do you have a hidden trap door?”

“No-no,” Mary-Sue answered, “It’s the counter: it’s too high. The shop fitters who built the interior were old and used imperial measurements. The instructions were in metric. So now we have to come around the counter to serve people.”

Barclay accepted this. Then he asked a second question:

“What’s with the kooky lighting? It keeps changing.”

“Oh, that’s the shop fitters again.” Mary-Sue explained. “They didn’t have a normal electrical consumer unit for the lights; so they used one intended for a disco club instead. It plays merry hell with my pupils, I can tell you: I now have dilation problems.”

As if on cue, the brightness increased to maximum in the briefest time possible…

Suddenly Moyst Towlet and Jungle-Jake Johnson became visible behind the counter – not that anyone noticed: they were all too busy shouting, “Aargh!”

But as quickly as it came, the brightness dimmed to a reasonable level once more…

“Ah, that’s better.” Mary-Sue said with a grateful sigh. “Moyst: two Croaky Cortadoes. You two – take a seat: I’ll bring you your coffees.”

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2022

Yes, I know the story barely moved on at all; but aren’t my Cafe Puke sets a delight!

Making Art Out of Doo-Dahs and Thingamabobs: The Cafe Puke

The Cafe Puke has been mentioned many times during the saga that is the Earplug Adventures. Sometimes, during a tale, we might catch a glimpse of the interior of that most reviled emporium of the coffee bean, but never have we really been INSIDE an average Cafe Puke franchised outlet. Well that situation has been put to rights; and it all happened because I didn’t take enough shopping bags to Sainsburys. I shall explain. Quickly realising that I wouldn’t be able to pack all my goods into the solitary bag that nestled daintily in the bottom of my trolley, I took the display box in which the yoghurts I wanted  lay. The cashier didn’t mind, so a half-hour later this sat upon the kitchen table, which doubles as my writing desk…

Immediately I saw the possibilties. Ideas began fermenting in my aging brain. Quite a while later, and following lots of trips to the attic and shed, this was the result…

Want to look inside? Go ahead…

Look, it even has an air conditioning unit! Obviously that is why – when word got around the earplug world – it became populated very quickly..

Why, isn’t that Nigel, the King of Scroton, ordering for his wife Beatrix, Magnuss, and Hair-Trigger? Hob-nobbing or what? It can’t be the coffee that draws them in: it must be the decor!

And the late opening hours…

 

Earplug News 24/7: Drones to the Corporate Rescue

Stating falling sales in their traditional outlets as the reason why Cafe Puke have adopted a high-tech approach to future operations, the company have begun delivering their infamously vile coffee via drone to their most high-profile customers. An unnamed Cafe Puke representative was heard to mutter: “What next: Magnuss  Earplug calling in for a croissant from the comfort of his palatial lavatory seat? Where will it all end?”