[Something had called him back to Brooklyn. It wasn't a clear voice, or even a compulsion-- but after all the holiday weirdness, something in him wanted to see how things looked where he'd come from. Besides, he'd been curious for a while to see how the old bar was getting along.
And so it came to pass that Dionysus found himself squatting on the sidewalk, an unattended laptop open in front of him, as he read the cryptic note on the messageboard. He puzzled over it briefly-- but the first rays of sun brought illumination in several meanings.
He stretched in the sunlight, his clothes falling away, and found a wreath of grape leaves in his hand. Catching his reflection in a window, he put the wreath on his head, settling it just right, and grinned like a lunatic.
THIS was more like it.
There were things to do, scores to settle, of course-- but the important things had to be done first. He strode into Gambrinus' Hole, pushing the doors wide open like a cowboy in a western; even at sunrise, the place had its share of loafers, drunks, artists, and misfits.
He spread his arms wide, and in a voice rich with power, said "Free your minds, and your asses will follow." With a magician's pass, his hands were full of cups of wine, which he handed to everyone who walked up to him.
Leading his half-formed parade out into the street, he passed by the laptop on the sidewalk. Yes, he had things to do, but he couldn't resist a messageboard post: A crudely drawn, crudely grinning figure, followed by a single line of text.]