What's In A Name?

The Cook looked up from the trayfull of cups and mugs he was taking into the kitchen. "It says 'The Manager,' Boss."

"Uh-huh. And does it look anything like 'The Bartender' to you?"

"Nope," the Cook said.

"That's what I thought," the ambiguous supervisor said, nodding his/her head.

"Can't blame the Writers for being inconsistent," the Bouncer offered from his alcove. "It's what they do. If they weren't inconsistent, it wouldn't be any fun."

"Fun?" the Manager asked malevolently. "You aren't the one who changes names every fifth story."

"True, but I got saddled with a name the other day. Goes to show: you should never let Readers in--I learned that when I was still bussing tables at the AOA Bar and Grill."

"Especially Readers who are actually Writers," the Cook remarked over his shoulder.

"What's wrong with these people?" the Manager muttered. "I'm ambiguous, and I run this place. I don't just tend bar, I do the books--Drake College of Accounting, class of 'aught-nil--I sweep up, I do the advertising . . ."

"And we're supposed to be the stereotypical bouncer and short-order cook," the Bouncer nodded. "But so what? Every writer's going to have a different take. We're lucky we've still got our jobs."

"I don't think it's fair," said one of the four figures sitting at the end of the bar. "I mean--"

The Manager raised an eyebrow at him. "Why are you still here?"

"You're not going to try and throw me out?"

"Falstaff," the Manager sighed, "it doesn't do any good anyway. Besides, if I threw you out of here, you'd just go harass 'Pocky."

"Nah, the Villain's Bailiwick closes at two. I'd probably try to grab a bite at the Sidekick's Delicatessen or something."

And so it goes, the Manager reflected. Admit it, this is a pretty good gig. And there's a whole four days until the next Writer's Night. It's not really so bad. I just wish we could get rid of Mr. 'Y'Wanna Know What I Think?' and get the Scribe in here more often. He/she sighed, and went reluctantly back to polishing the bar. At least it beat doing bit work in the TCP stories or being used for target practice in an X-Force tale. I guess I'm a pretty lucky 'fic, after all.

Some credits, anybody? Ho-kay, heeeeeeeere we go:

The Manager, the Bouncer, and the Cook belong to themselves, though I'm beaming with pride to have created them.

The Reader who's really a Writer who saddled the Bouncer with a name is a reference to Phil Foster's fine story, "Out For a Cruise."

At the risk of being obvious, Falstaff belongs to me.

The Drake College of Accounting does, too, as well as the Villain Bailiwick and the Sidekick's Deli.

Kielle, the Goddess of Fanfiction, created the AOA Bar and Grill.

'Pocky--never, EVER call him that to his face--and X-Force belong, at least most of the time, to Marvel.

The TCP stories belong to their very talented authors.

The entire concept of the Subreality Café belongs to Kielle. I just realized that I've never once given her credit in any of my stories for doin' this. That stops now. Mea culpa, oh-wise-and-wonderful-Scribe.

And the Scribe, at last glance, still belonged to herself.

Thanks for the time--
Falstaff