The Adventures of Salmonella Bathwater - Part 1 - An Evil Smell in the Filthy Mistress

She entered the room and immediately the music stopped and all heads turned to regard her with the air of a bunch of people in a bar thinking hey who the hell is that woman?
But I already knew her. Or so I thought.

She might have just looked like someone I knew.

But it turned out then it was actually someone I knew. I think.

The bartender was wiping a dirty cup with a crusty rag and had a glass eye rolling playfully around in his face whilst the other one was covered by a roguish eye-patch. He was a total dreamboat, even though he rarely got your drinks order correct. His name was Charles McCohan and he had tales of the sea from his days adventuring and plundering lots of booty as a sophisticated oceanographer on his prize steam-yacht the Filthy Mistress. He had an anchor tatoo on his forearm so you knew he was legit.His favorite song was Sailor's Hornpipe by Henry Wood, and he knew all the words from all the songs from Muppets Treasure Island.

But anyway this lady had just barged her way unceremoniously into the bar and basically she didn't look impressed. Perhaps she'd spotted the neon signs to the ladies room that just said 'GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS' and wasn't necessarily directing ladies to a toilet. Or perhaps she'd spotted the hole in the roof, that was only there to help dispell the fumes from José's up-and-coming meth lab that Charles McCohan had allowed him to set up in the hope of finding a cure for having a glass eye (but secretly José was just cooking meth and calling everyone a bitch, like he'd seen on the telly). I think was appalled her the most was seeing that what Charles claimed was prosecco on tap was actually just fizzy water mixed with chewed up refreshers.

So as the last majestic bars of Smell Yo Dick by Riskay faded away, there she stood in the doorway, her shoes reflecting the light from the fire that was burning merrily in the corner (much to the chargin of José, who was off his tits on fumes anyhow so don't dwell on it). Her hair was tied in a tight bun that pulled the skin on her face back into a rictus grin that was like Jared Leto's Joker but less disappointing, whilst her big manly hands were wrapped around the strap of her big hooker-sized handbag. Also she had a coat on - probably because it was spitting out.

Before she said anything I could tell live was never going to be the same again, because Mrs Salmonella Bathwater was back in town - like the Boys in a Thin Lizzy song,