Travelogue: Monroeville, PA (Part the Second)

The team went out to dinner at DeNunzio‘s last night, despite the fact that someone in the office claimed Johnny Carino‘s is superior. The fact that Johnny C didn’t send some of his boys down to make sure the DeNunzios slept with the fishes last night (at least, not while we were there) leads me to believe that he’s no capo.

I enjoyed a cup of the wedding soup, some fried calamari and the chicken saltimbocca, all of which were pretty tasty. During the meal, I was filled in on some of the antics that occurred after I retired on Tuesday night. Listening to the tales of drunken revelry, I determined that there is one advantage to returning to the hotel at 10PM instead of staying out at the Tiki Lounge until 3AM: plausible deniability. Everything I “know” about what went on after I left is hearsay, and will never hold up in court. What happens in Pittsburgh stays in Pittsburgh until the special task force is assembled.

After dinner, we said farewell to three of our elite shadow force and they vanished like the colony of Roanoke. Then the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants and the X-Men teamed up in an unprecedented across-the-aisle effort to defeat the forces of Apocalypse. That went on for about two hours before the involved mutants got sleepy and went to bed.

The other apprentice and I will be fleeing the state this evening, but I did add two of Monroeville’s more exotic locations to my “Been There, Done That” list. The first is a local eatery called Quizno’s, which features a menu chock-full of delectable sandwiches. After your chosen ingredients are piled high atop whole wheat (or white, if you must) bread, the entire assembly is placed on a conveyor belt where it descends into the very bowels of the Earth and is cooked to perfection by molten lava. They have raspberry lemonade, too, which is made by either faeries or elves, whichever is less likely rile the lawyers at Keebler.

Finally, there is The Exchange, an establishment spoken about only in hushed whispers behind tightly closed doors. So secret is this place that even The Internet has never heard of it. There are wonders to behold behind the doors of The Exchange (provided you can actually find the damn place) the likes of which my tripping fingers cannot begin to describe. I will say only this: at The Exchange, you can purchase a Shadowrun SEGA Genesis cartridge for a mere two dollars and fifty cents. Well, actually you couldn’t, because I did.

I have uncovered all the secrets this town holds, I fear, and soon it will be time to journey westward once more. The final stop in this town of hidden treasures and ancient mysteries will be a gas station, where the MVoD will drink deeply of the enchanted elixir that is the lifeblood of Monroeville, PA.