An iguana walks into a bar
A well-worn leather boot knocks thick decaying barn doors. Settled dust from long ago drops to the floor, the hinges rattle, as if wall-bolted shackles imprison the timber’s hope of escaping.
One final almighty kick and…. BOOM!
A mushroom cloud of dust erupts skyward, heaven bound. The doors hit the deck and slide to the far end of the saloon, the glass windows spray outward to the horizon, the ceiling lifts three inches off the walls that bow outward from the middle.
As the roof returns, a lone shadow stands where the double doors once hung.
Spurs, strapped to the heel of each boot grip the floorboards; knees slightly bent and head bowed, an old leather jacket adorns a tall and stoic figure who’s appeared in a cloud of slowly falling… lingering soot.
Crack! A swift upward jolt of the figure’s chin reveals deep green eyes that belong to the face of an Iguana whose scope is locked straight ahead.
Unmoving, Iguana takes in her surroundings. The unkept Wild West piano in the corner that once played tunes to drunken railmen and their crones; the stringless fiddle above the bar that once turned still men into mindless swagger machines; and the smouldering cigars on the bench – puffs foregone by jaw-dropped patrons returning her gaze.
The double-door-kicking, wall-bending, jaw-dropping iguana dips her hat, slowly, before tossing her woven lasso onto the wall’s only crooked hook. She orders: ‘One AZTECA Margarita, please.’
‘Shaken, or on tap?’ asks the barman.
‘Thought I was in a James Bond script for a second there. But strewth! on tap would float my boat to the nth degree, you’re obviously a wizard of the highest order,’ replied the Iguana.
And so… the barman sent Iguana off into the pink sunset with an AZTECA Margy poured straight from the goddamn tap. Yeehaaw!
AZTECA Margarita – now on tap for all your event hire desires.
*Iguanas not includedThe Feel Good TeamPhone 0422 106 721Online AztecaMargarita.comInstagram @aztecamargarita
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