Sam opened the bar on Wednesday morning, with Carla and Coach nervously waiting behind him. They turned on the lights and were relieved to see no immediate signs that anything was amiss. Several patrons were waiting to be let in.

“Ah, Carla, why don’t you let the customers in early. It’ll feel less spooky in here with some company.”

“No argument from me, Sam,” Carla replied, opening the doors.

Carla began serving immediately while Sam filled some bowls with pretzels and beer nuts. Coach returned from straightening up the back.

“So, Coach, everything seems normal enough around here today.”

“Yeah, Sam,” Coach said. “Everything is the way I left it last night. Oh, except there’s a dead guy on the pool table.”

Sam’s eyes bulged. “What?”

“Oh, and there’s a dart missing, too.” Coach said.

Carla grabbed Coach by the shirt collar. “Who’s the stiff, Coach?”

“Oh, it’s just one of Gary’s friends,” Coach said.

Carla turned to Sam. “Someone must have used a poisoned dart, Sammy. They saved us! What great hero came to our aid last night?”

“Sinatra!” yelled Al.

nettiebarron: Diane Chambers, spread eagle
Colin Prime: Norm Peterson, still thirsty
strategery: Gary’s stooge, corner pocket

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