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Now then, imagine you've got your feet under the table, your slippers on and your comfortable pants; what happens next?! Well, you've managed to finagle the key to the booze locker so that part of your staple diet is sorted out but what do you do to give something back?
Well, you could commit to one of the BAR's little clades. It's where you pay it forward by making a difference; be that as it may by sticking one of your winkle-pickers up the shrivelled up sphincter of a zerger, sticking nut on to a generator killer, a mad-pell-mell run into a zombie infested horde to stick a needle into a chum's neck or to stick your latest long player of Duran Duran on the over the airwaves. It may even be the case that you feel the urge to stick the best recipe for Martinis to the notice board of some group in a far-flung neighbourhood... Who knows... But maybe this section will help you decide?
Most of our regulars are just that; regular, they escape from their lives of zombie-related drudgery and getting away from ‘them-indoors’ for a bit of banter, the odd darts competition, a wee bit of walloping of stray griefing asshats and quite a lot of rather nice beer. If you join us, then this is all we expect of you. It’s srs bznz and as such we’ll still respect you in the morning. We know that sometimes you’ll find it difficult to escape the other half, or that you’ll fancy seeing what Santlerville has to offer or that you want to go mad and become the king of some second rate fire department off in Spicer Hills. All that’s OKAY. It’s normal. But you’ll know there’s still a stool with your name on it, a tankard which still (probably due to our broken glass-washing machine) has your DNA on it and a round which you still owe despite disappearing for three months. So get them in you cheap bugger, eh?
"Less Law, More Justice" That’s their motto. They don’t hunt bounties. They don’t arse about. If you’re on our Deadbeat List it may just be easier for you to leave the Northeast and go about your business elsewhere. Equally, these hard-arsed bastards know that just by being one of our sworn protectors means they’re a target for those cock-badgers who want to make a name for themselves in Malton. These guys are organised, professional and... more than any of this, still as pissed as newts. That makes their achievements all the greater.
The team reformed in 2011, and is open to any BAR members of good repute and also to certain, selected outsiders who share a common purpose*. These mad bastards are currently led by Dinger and comprise the following big bollocked swine (including Alice): Alice; Ed Zeplin; Cabbie Sam and Dinger. Rocky also acts as first team substitute for when they're off having the magic sponge. You magnificent bastards.
- By this we do not mean a vulgar dolphin, okay.
“That’s a pint you owe me.” Is the motto of the Revive Corps. It used to be “Bringing Life to the Lifeless” but to be honest, the only reason this group of mercenary sonofaguns is out there, jabbing folk is because of Father O’Keefe’s legacy of demanding a pint for every successful revive; that this policy led Fr. OK into a spiralling descent into alcoholism is a moot point. In all seriousness, if it weren’t for these brave, and oftentimes foolhardy buggers, other BAR operations would come to a shuddering fuck... halt. These guys keep a track of the BAR revive point and tirelessly prowl the revive request thread on the forum. They’re currently led by Father O'Keefe and comprise the following huge-hearted nutcases: Rebecca Sensecal, Rocky, Zabuden, Doc Walter Guedner and Mycrof
We have a dedicated radiochannel so we do, in fact it's 26.97 MHz ; yes, we know this sounds ‘organised’ and ‘ever so slightly anally retentive’ but... We do, and we put great store by having a member of our team ensuring we occasionally put out our Spotify playlist into the world at the very least, and, indeed, occasionally put out something useful to boot.
Our radiomen are currently led by Syzpid and comprise the following frizzy-haired lunatics... Uh... Syzpid?
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The Travelling Drunk Tank
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In days gone by the Travelling Drunk Tank (TDT) was envisioned to be a semi-permanent Malton-wide crawl around, taking in the sights, sounds and micro-breweries still active in this whole zombie apocalypse. Recently, it’s been the remit of committed (or committable) members of our roster who’ve tried to bring our messages of peace, love, harmony and cocktail recipes (including the bottles of Campari even we’ve struggled to get rid of across the whole of Malton). Two recent, massive, TDTs have been undertaken by Syzpid (who’s been spraying and tagging across the whole city) and Jesus Sante who’s been doing the Malton Pub Crawl in conjunction with a couple of other reprobates.
Overall, this is a beauteous thing, it’s all things to all (wo) men. A chance to take a break from the drudgery of constant fun, beer, dry-roasted nuts and quoits that life in Rolt Heights brings and a chance to bring our well-thought-out and reasoned philosophy to others across the city. One day, if we have eleventytwelve members, it may be something we promote as being a more... well... permanent thing rather than something we ask of those of our members whose personal hygiene becomes an issue.
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