Hello patrons of ‘Sleazy like a Sunday Morning’ (Nantwich).
We would like to thank you for your years, months, weeks or even minutes of patronage. Every time you walk through that door you help me and the girls out such a great deal.
You may or may not be aware that we have recently had a refurbishment and changed certain parts of the club to bring everything more up to date, an aesthetic sheen that hasn’t been seen since the turn of the century. I loved the previous look but I wanted to show a different side to Sleazy’s. After a few meetings with the business partners we decided on two very different looks: one that was modern, sleek and sexy and the other that was sexy, old, and gothic.
The dancefloor and booths are still there, you need not worry. They have been deep-cleaned and bleached to within an inch of their lives. Voice-activated sensors have been added to the toilets so when you say, “flush” the urinals will flush. The bar stools have had a new height of seat added to them (big high!) for those who are vertically-challenged.
The extension at the back, however, is where the temperature has really been cranked up. Have you ever had fantasies about being a knight, a jester or even a king in medieval England? Now you can indulge as much as you want in ‘Ye B-olde England’, the sexiest thing to come out of Nantwich since Thea Gilmore started writing music. We have everything: ale, shouting, stripping, girls, mead, laughter, outfits, dysentery, ornamental owls, women, private parties, stocks and much, much more. If you really want to prove your worth then you need to pick up your sword (not a euphemism) and try to slay the Slaggon™, a mechanical dragon who is giving out everything as long as the price is right. I have built everything myself and I stand by my efforts and the choice of my customers to do what they like (within reason) for a reasonable price.
What I will not stand for though is theft. I have recently discovered that the sign for our new event has been stolen by one of those themed restaurants in the neighbouring town of Crewe. They deliberately took our sign, knowing that it was the wrong one, to drum up interest for their business. They made up some phoney baloney story about being sent the wrong sign to curry favour and get more punters through the door. I hear that they’re doing a roaring trade as a result of this. To begin with I was nice about it and requested the sign be returned only to be met with indifference and mild threats.
The Slaggon™ does exist, and she is ready to take you on whenever you’re ready, but only at my establishment. I want you to know that personally, therefore I take the time to reiterate the following:
- You can hire the Slaggon™.
- You can ride the Slaggon™.
- You can take the Slaggon™ out to your uncle’s pub, which is only a few miles away, and do what you like as long as you pay the dry cleaning fee afterwards.
The sign is yet to be returned. For now let us all have a drink, maybe a dance, and hope that it will be returned. It is, after all, the principle of the matter more than anything else. Cheers!
11 comments on “Please note (a rebuttal)”
This slaggon thing sounds awful. There’s no way I’m coming back to your admittedly very nicely refurbished sleaze pit to stuff fivers into the undergarments of all and sundry. Not while this appalling slaggon contraption is around. What on earth were you thinking?
We held a ballot and out of all the suggestions, slutty dragon won. You can’t argue with the people’s vote.
How many people voted in this so-called vote? I think the whole thing was rigged. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, I’m over at Willie’s Blazin’ Wagons Wild West restaurant (Crewe) where I can enjoy myself in Slaggon-free peace.
You’re such a flip-flop of a man. You should be supporting the little guy here rather than going wherever the gravy is.
Maybe I should, but I find it impossible to support the little guy when the little guy is busy supporting something as immoral and unforgivably improper as the Slaggon.
Stop changing the subject. Bring me some ice.
The only ice I’m getting you is in the icy stare I’m shooting your way as I leave this slaggon-infested establishment.
That sounded cooler in my head.
I rate it a 6.5 out of 10. The unit of coolness is still the Fonzi, I don’t know why they haven’t updated it yet. I rate that 6.5 Fonzis out of 10.
Not nearly cool enough. Not to worry, in the intervening time I’ve made it nearly all the way to Willie’s Blazin’ Wagons Wild West restaurant (Crewe) so my shame is so distant as to be imperceptible.
Your shame is a very low 3.2 Fonzis out of 10.