The Brass Uncle
From ThornsWiki
You are greeted at the door by a cheerful woman dressed in horrid green and pink striped suspenders and a polka dotted tunic. She smiles too much.
This ghastly tavern has changed subtly in the past few months. Where before there was rough-hewn furniture and tables made from crates, there are now chairs with actual cushions, real tables made of strong wood and even cheery red-and-white checkered tablecloths. The interior is brightly lit by yellow phosphor lamps hanging from the ceiling. A sign challenges you to "Take A Seat, Pardner!"
On the once barren walls, there are now campy decorations: old rusty signs, ironic needlework, taxidermied fish, and other memorabilia of a nostalgic, yet entirely false existence.
It seems that this once favorable local dive has begun catering to tourists and travellers. You see a number of families eating overpriced food in the booths along the walls, and noisy children run up and down between the tables, screaming at the top of their lungs. A few patrons, who look like rough, weathered men, seem perplexed at these new surroundings; they are huddled at the bar, holding mixed drinks with tiny umbrellas and wondering what to do with them.