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Alliance: | None | CEO: | |
| Kills: | 0 | HQ: | ||
| Losses: | 1 | Members: | 2 | |
| ISK destroyed: | 0.00B | Shares: | 1000 | |
| ISK lost: | 0.44B | Tax Rate: | 0% | |
| Efficiency: | 0% | Website: | http:// |
"A large VAT, Dave, and put it on the slate."
The Winchester Club is a private members' bar, sporadically open for applications. Beer, spirits, cocktails, cheap at half the price at The Winchester, served by our genial host, Dave.
If you're lucky you might bump into some of our regulars. There's Arthur now. He's the (minority) shareholder in The Winchester, which he never lets Dave forget when he tries to get him to clear his slate. Quite a character is Arthur. You need a second-hand motor, a consignment of luminous orange paint or lawnmower parts from the Czech Republic, Arthur's your man.
Then there's Terry, whose lot in life is to keep Arthur out of trouble. Quite handy, Terry, used to be a boxer, hard but fair. It's quite a sight seeing him and Arthur going at it like an old married couple. I don't know how Terry puts up with it sometimes I must admit.
There's a strict rule on bringing guests into the club but somehow Arthur manages to smuggle in all sorts of reprobates under my nose so you might bump into Des, Arnie, Justin, Arthur's nephew Ray, or if you're really unlucky a member of the local plod. And if you're really, really unlucky, it might be Detective Sergeant Chisholm, who has made it his life's aim to have Arthur sent down for something or other. He'd better hurry or the VAT man might get him first.
If you're bored of what you're doing you could do far worse than this little club. We get up to all sorts. Drinking, mostly.
The Winchester Club is a private members' bar, sporadically open for applications. Beer, spirits, cocktails, cheap at half the price at The Winchester, served by our genial host, Dave.
If you're lucky you might bump into some of our regulars. There's Arthur now. He's the (minority) shareholder in The Winchester, which he never lets Dave forget when he tries to get him to clear his slate. Quite a character is Arthur. You need a second-hand motor, a consignment of luminous orange paint or lawnmower parts from the Czech Republic, Arthur's your man.
Then there's Terry, whose lot in life is to keep Arthur out of trouble. Quite handy, Terry, used to be a boxer, hard but fair. It's quite a sight seeing him and Arthur going at it like an old married couple. I don't know how Terry puts up with it sometimes I must admit.
There's a strict rule on bringing guests into the club but somehow Arthur manages to smuggle in all sorts of reprobates under my nose so you might bump into Des, Arnie, Justin, Arthur's nephew Ray, or if you're really unlucky a member of the local plod. And if you're really, really unlucky, it might be Detective Sergeant Chisholm, who has made it his life's aim to have Arthur sent down for something or other. He'd better hurry or the VAT man might get him first.
If you're bored of what you're doing you could do far worse than this little club. We get up to all sorts. Drinking, mostly.
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