The music covers the sound of running boots on the catwalk.
Dozens, maybe hundreds. Blacks. Almost
covers the noise of the helicopter flying in the Star Wars bar, music. The
merges with the low rumble of the sub wufer.
The darkness covers the men out of the water frog and go up the pier.
Then you turn the spotlight of the helicopter. The frogmen are
wall along the outer perimeter of the room.
Interstate Pol bursts into the room, turn off the music, the lights, as if eBay had understood the critical situation. Small
automatic rifles are pointed at us.
The dancefloor is empty, customers and employees all out behind the counter, his hands on his head.
We are treating them as criminals. And nobody knows what is happening.
We ordered the silence and stillness.
I see through the glass of my colleagues are floating bar shoved down to us.
are also taken some of my colleagues the day shift who had stayed in the evening to Star Wars.
All together as one big family. All behind the bar with his hands on his head and looks aghast. Someone a little pale, commingled reaction of alcohol and fear.
All customers are out. Start a new
sorting. Someone is being carried on deck, others in the parterre.
Within minutes there are about thirty people on the barge, the rest of the people are escorted out.
From what little I can see on the platform there are only Venusians and North East some Venusian.
The frogmen who dropped out of the water dropped the floating platform in a few seconds, until a tug of CDP approached. Few quick steps and swim-up bar moves away.
The metal bridge linking the mainland to the structure falls into the water. Exhaust pipes and load tear and vomit into the sea water seems to me like a black pool of blood at night.
It 'goes without saying that we are all in disbelief, scared and bewildered.
comes a graduated scale.
Call the Taliban. We all know
.
Of all know the role and position in the hierarchy.
He says that the platform will be included in an hour.
that there will be some technicians at our disposal to replace the floating structure.
What was sorry for the inconvenience and that you can contact the interior minister to any reimbursement.
then takes leave saying, "Go have fun and work well."
go away with him all the platoon in riot gear.
Getting to the bottom of the walkway enters a team of technicians and a cleaning.
We are all still confused and scared.
someone throws down a chupito to recover, among customers in the parterre some girl starts to cry.
hour later, as promised, here comes the barge.
Empty.
passage is restored.
The first to go are those of the cleaning.
We all huddled at the edge of the wharf.
Someone swears that he saw blood stains.
someone tomorrow who will be sworn in Star Wars Bar has never happened.
Nothing.
Why nothing has happened.
Continued ... (maybe).
Dozens, maybe hundreds. Blacks. Almost
covers the noise of the helicopter flying in the Star Wars bar, music. The
merges with the low rumble of the sub wufer.
The darkness covers the men out of the water frog and go up the pier.
Then you turn the spotlight of the helicopter. The frogmen are
wall along the outer perimeter of the room.
Interstate Pol bursts into the room, turn off the music, the lights, as if eBay had understood the critical situation. Small
automatic rifles are pointed at us.
The dancefloor is empty, customers and employees all out behind the counter, his hands on his head.
We are treating them as criminals. And nobody knows what is happening.
We ordered the silence and stillness.
I see through the glass of my colleagues are floating bar shoved down to us.
are also taken some of my colleagues the day shift who had stayed in the evening to Star Wars.
All together as one big family. All behind the bar with his hands on his head and looks aghast. Someone a little pale, commingled reaction of alcohol and fear.
All customers are out. Start a new
sorting. Someone is being carried on deck, others in the parterre.
Within minutes there are about thirty people on the barge, the rest of the people are escorted out.
From what little I can see on the platform there are only Venusians and North East some Venusian.
The frogmen who dropped out of the water dropped the floating platform in a few seconds, until a tug of CDP approached. Few quick steps and swim-up bar moves away.
The metal bridge linking the mainland to the structure falls into the water. Exhaust pipes and load tear and vomit into the sea water seems to me like a black pool of blood at night.
It 'goes without saying that we are all in disbelief, scared and bewildered.
comes a graduated scale.
Call the Taliban. We all know
.
Of all know the role and position in the hierarchy.
He says that the platform will be included in an hour.
that there will be some technicians at our disposal to replace the floating structure.
What was sorry for the inconvenience and that you can contact the interior minister to any reimbursement.
then takes leave saying, "Go have fun and work well."
go away with him all the platoon in riot gear.
Getting to the bottom of the walkway enters a team of technicians and a cleaning.
We are all still confused and scared.
someone throws down a chupito to recover, among customers in the parterre some girl starts to cry.
hour later, as promised, here comes the barge.
Empty.
passage is restored.
The first to go are those of the cleaning.
We all huddled at the edge of the wharf.
Someone swears that he saw blood stains.
someone tomorrow who will be sworn in Star Wars Bar has never happened.
Nothing.
Why nothing has happened.
Continued ... (maybe).
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