Frosty travels through TIME! – Part 1

Do you have the time to hear about the time that Frosty Mugg traveled through time?

It was a dark and stormy night.

Wait, no it wasn’t. It was broad daylight, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

The year was 2015. The beer was Yuengling Lager. I think (drink!)?

Myself, my best friend Slim, my Chinese friend Peter (has anyone seen him by the way??), and Edwin (BOOOOO!) piled into Slim’s old Grand Markey (Marquis, Frosty… ~Editor) and went to Lancaster. Y’see, Slim and Edwin wanted to hit up the Amish market for shoe fly pie and quilts. I wanted to hit up the bar, but as it turns out there are no bars in Amish country, just barns. If I knew this BEFORE I got in the car, I’d have still went. But I’d have brought my own case of beer. Maybe two cases, just in case.

After walking around the Amish market for what felt like hours, I began to feel thirsty. I needed a drink, but there was nary a bar in site! There was plenty of water but no brew. Water water everywhere and not a drop to drink!

Delirious with thirst, I staggered off towards some trees. I wandered through a forest for about 25 minutes before I realized I was lost. Great, now I was thirsty and LOST! I knew how this one went, before I knew it I’d be fighting off hungry bears. But worst of all, I’d be sober. I was born with a beer in my hand! Can you imagine what it would be like to come down off a 25 year bender? I could, and I couldn’t bear to think about the worst hangover in the history of the world. Give me death by bear instead!

Fortunately, I came to a small village. No longer lost, I laughed loudly as I lauded my luck. I bet this village had a bar, and I sure as shit was going to find it, or my name wasn’t Frosty Mugg (it was, and it still is!!)!

I pulled out my phone and brought up my GPS. Nothing. I had no signal. Just what kind of backwater hick village was this? Hey idiots, 2015 is calling! Or it WOULD be calling, if I could get some damn signal!

With no beer and no signal, I did the only thing I could think of: Wander! Wandering had gotten me into this mess, surely it would get me out of it too.

I wandered around the strange little village, taking in the scenery. Something was off, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Where were all the cars? Why wasn’t anyone on their phones? Why was everyone dressed funny? More importantly though, where was the bar?

They say men don’t ask for directions, but that’s NOT true for Frosty Mugg! I was lost, I was thirsty, and I certainly WASN’T too proud to swallow my pride if it meant swallowing some cold beer! I stopped one of the strangely dressed people and asked him politely where the nearest bar was.

“The nearest tavern?” the man replied with a British accent. “Right down the cobblestone about two furlongs.”

I didn’t know how long fur was, but I wasn’t about to let this guy know that! British people are so weird. I replied with some British of my own.

“I say, here here, thank you good chap! God save the Queen’s bloomers!”

The strange man looked at me strangely, then continued walking.

I walked both of those entire furlongs (which apparently was only 400 feet) and came to the tavern. There was a small wooden sign hanging from the door that said “Ye Olde Tavern”. Salvation, at last! I pushed my way through the door, dragging my feet across the floor.

I grabbed a stool at the bar and slammed down a wad of cash.

“Oi barkeep, a mug of the good stuff over here!”

The bartender came over.

“What kind do you want? We’ve got-”

I interrupted the bartender, who also spoke with the same British accent as that other weirdo from before. Maybe they were cousins? Who knows? Not me, that’s for sure!

“The cold kind. And keep them coming!”

I slammed the first beer, then slammed my mug on the counter.

“Refill over here!” I yelled as I slammed my fist on the counter. The bartender let out an audible groan (which was definitely coming out of his tip!!) and poured me another. Before I knew it I had pounded down several mugs, and the bartender had warned me several times to stop pounding the mug on the counter.

Now properly hydrated, I scoped my surroundings. I’m no stranger to dive bars, but this place was a dump! It was dark, dingy, and downright dirty. No pool table, no neon signs, no TVs, no jukebox. Not even a single poster for a sports team! It was like I stepped into another time…

HEY WAIT A MINUTE!

It all began to make sense. The British accents, the strange clothes, the dirty bar, the cobblestone roads. I was in the past!

Oh no Muggheads, Frosty’s trapped in time! How will this play out for our hero? Stay tuned for Part 2 of “Frosty travels through TIME!”, coming soon to an AJnet Magazine near YOU!