Not so Grand Reopening

[Danster]

Danster surveyed the holes in the roof, the bar stools with missing legs that look like they couldn't withstand a breeze never mind an actual person sitting on them and the cobwebs between the optic bottles. A year wouldn't be long enough to get the place ready for opening, yet the council had said today was the day.

He began hammering away at the boarded up door before remembering he was one of the galaxy's most powerful Jedi, so slashed at the slats with his lightsaber instead until the doorway resembled a doorway once more. He meandered back to the door and flicked a switch, the neon light outside flickered on, although only the E and N of the word OPEN were illuminated.

Shmi's Diner was back in business.

[General Ceel]

*Had Danster the Gangster been paying closer attention, he might have noticed that a dusty lump on a stool, leaning against the bar, was in fact a certain Jedi who, once upon a time, had been well known around these parts.*

*In a cloud of dust, General Ceel coughed, creaked, and moaned as he began to stir. It was almost as if he had been there the entire time, locked in suspended animation, awaiting the resurrection of his favorite haunt.*

*The buzz and hum of the neon sign doing its best to declare Shmi's Diner 'open,' again had roused him.*

*He coughed, and then croaked...*

"Wha...what... Somebody get me a scotch. And didn't I under crab cakes?"

*The Gungan's stomach growled, as if he'd ordered those crack cakes years ago, and had simply dozed off while awaiting delivery....*

[Danster]

Danster jumped at the sudden movement from the bar area.

"Ah, Boss, I don't suppose you had anything to do with lobbying the council to get this place open so quickly?"

Regardless of his period of inactivity, the name General Ceel still carried a good deal of weight around these parts, as did the man himself, given the creaking emanating from the legs of the unfortunate stool that was propping him up.

"Given the fact that it's been sat here for a good while, I suspect the Scotch will be incredible, but you're taking a big chance with the crab-cakes."

Danster slid a half-filled tumbler and bowl down the bar towards Ceel, clouds of dust kicking up in their wake.

[General Ceel]

*General Ceel coughed again....and then laughed his bellicose laugh.*

"I'll take the scotch," he said ",and I'll take my chances with the crabcakes. If the scotch doesn't kill me it will certainly kill the botulism on those crabcakes."

*The amphibian's knees and hips popped and hissed as he stood and locked arms with his second oldest friend.*

"Good to see you again," he said... and he meant it. "But tell me old friend....that old war we fought together, is it over?"

[Danster]

Danster poured himself a generous scotch and pulled up one of the more structurally-sound looking bar stools.

"The old war is over, a new one will take it's place as sure as night follows day."

He took a generous swig from his tumbler.

"The sad thing is, what would people like you and me have been without it? Full-time politicians? Bongo pilots? An Otoh Gunga bubble lift technician? We wouldn't have last five minutes."

[General Ceel]

*General Ceel clanked the lip of his glass against Danster's tumbler. Danster was correct, of course. The endless wars of their time had made them, and so many other Jedi, warriors rather than philosopher-monks.*

*The older Gungan emptied his glass and let it clank against the top of the bar. The bar immediately collapsed in a cloud of dust in response to its weight.*

*General Ceel laughed boisterously again.*

"Alright then... let's get to work." He was confident that customers would soon be coming. They needed to get ready.

[Danster]

Danster started to scrub away at the dust on the section of the bar that had not collapsed.

"I'm sure this stuff used to be droid's work."

[General Ceel]

*General Ceel got to work with a broom, but immediately found that his back began to hurt.*

"Ah yes it was. But unless we can find some old hunk of junk droid around here, I'm afraid we just don't have the budget....."

*And on that note, General Ceel wandered off into the back halls and rooms of the building in search of whatever had been left behind in storage.*

[Danster]

Inspired by seeing Ceel, albeit briefly, pick up a broom, Danster felt a productive urge sweep over him. He want to the doorway and wrenched the flickering, half-illuminated neon sign off the wall and used his lightsaber to delicately carve the word "Open" in a discarded piece of wood. He found a slightly larger piece and carved the word "Closed" into that piece before hanging the Open next to the door, illuminated by a lamp overhanging the building's roof.

"Much more quirky."

He then returned to the bar and used the force to raise all the debris and litter, levitating it all into a large garbage receptacle around the side of the Diner. 

"Found anything back there?"

[General Ceel]

*General Ceel heard Danster, of course, but did not answer. What he had found was something that simply had to be seen.*

*A slow rumble began, faintly vibrating the floor. From where Danster was standing, it must have grown louder by the moment. As for General Ceel, he found himself immediately behind the source the rumble, using the force to push its cause down the hall and into the main dining room.*

*Moments later General Ceel emerged from the corridor, smiling as he rolled an entire cask of aged Gungan Scotch into the main room.*

"I don't suppose you know the street value of 20 year old Gungan Scotch do you?" he asked.