Viennese stories ...
10/21/2021
We were sitting comfortably in our favorite pub in Vienna. Apart from me, that's Alisa, Rudi, Lili and Ferry. His real name is Hans, but everyone calls him that because he only ever drives a Porsche.
We had just eaten plenty of salmon and enjoyed some delicious vegetables - with a bite, of course.
"Hey sugar," Rudi said to Lili, "should we order another cup of mocha?"
"Yes, and a slice of cake, please," she replied. After all, she was known for her love of sweets.
But then our good mood was abruptly interrupted as the door opened and a guy entered, who everyone just called the Count. No one really knew why, because he didn't look anything like a nobleman in an English movie, but rather more American: glasses like Buddy Holly, a quiff like Elvis, but also a cross like someone who plays rugby for a living. And he can box like Henry Maske.
"Devil - I mean, hell, that's all we need," said Ferry, startled. "I'd also like to know how our evening is going to continue," said Alisa.
Yes, and now the trick is to continue the story.
