Old Friends, New Country: Part II
[Continued directly from 'Old Friends, New Country']Auspiciously, all these themed restaurants were nigh contiguous, so walking to Lockup was not a difficult task. As we ambled through the crowds, my illustrious hosts, Tsubura and Nanami, informed me how this thing would go down. Apparently upon requesting a table, one was literally 'locked up' then escorted to your dining destination. I found this astounding, and exclaimed so, saying something like, "This country is crazy!"
The door to Arabian Rock matched its theme, appearing heavy and made of gold, and likewise, the door to Lockup appeared nothing if not ominous. Upon entering, we found ourselves in a dimly lit room. At this point, if I were solo, my next course of action would have been somewhat obscure; fortunately, my Japanese companions had no hindering language barrier, and promptly turned to a desk on the right to perform the next move. As they did, there was a loud noise and bright flash, followed by a groaning if I remember correctly.
Nanami and Tsububra further buried their heads in whatever it was they were looking at, intent on remaining ignorant of the cause of the recent cacophony. Being the burly Australian that I am, I saw the skeleton emerge from the left of the door and turn its head toward us. I am no doubt incredibly brave, or possibly just slow to react to loud noises in foreign settings, perhaps we shall never know which.
I am not exactly sure what it was that the girls were looking at, but after this, we moved through the next door and into a reception style area, similar to that of the Arabian Rock, but everything was dark and dingy looking. Another Japanese woman greeted us, dressed elaborately as a guard. She inquired regarding the numerical composition of our party, receiving her answer, she bade us sit in a line of waiting seats, and went to into a separate room, I assumed to prepare for our imminent executions and the sale of our organs, or something like that anyway.
Ostensibly, this institution was well prepared for such a circumstance, and our host quickly emerged, bearing manacles and requesting a volunteer, for which task I was encouraged to put my hand up. I suggested that perhaps I was a poor choice for such an assignment, as if there was any questions given in Japanese, it was unlikely that I would be able to understand, and even less likely that I could respond lucidly. Slightly begrudgingly, Tsubura volunteered, and was promptly handcuffed and lead down a dark staircase, Nanami and I followed.
Lining the halls were many grim and gruesome pictures, some of people with half their face missing, others of clowns smiling sadistically. There were no half measures here. Tsubura's captor lead her to a room barred with a heavy jail door, complete with thick bars, here she was released and directed to sit, Nanami and I following suit. Here we inspected the menu, a fascinating exercise.
Arabian Rock had a general food menu, but a fascinating list of themed drinks, each with a suitable name. If ancient Arabia had access to ingredients for different cocktails, I have no doubt they would produce a similar display of shiny and multicoloured offerings. Likewise, at Lockup, the drinks were foreboding in name and countenance.
Included on this menu we discovered a drink named after Frankenstein himself, which Tsubura ordered. Nanami and I opted for non-alcoholic beverages in beakers, mine orange and yellow, hers dark and light green. I forget the names, but yes, you did read correctly, the pictures showed these drinks in beakers, just like science at school. Tsubura's came in a conical flask, there were test tubes of different beverages, including a bear in a test tube about a foot high.
We also ordered something that looked to me like sushi, but was apparently uncooked spring rolls. They were delicious, also included in our visit were some bread sticks with cheese inside, accompanying that was some cream. All fantastic. As we talked and ate, suddenly ALL the lights went out. I capitalise that to differentiate it between this and Arabian Rock. At Arabian Rock, the hallways remained lit, but there was no light here.
In a second some UV lights came on, and a siren sounded, informing us, in Japanese, that some... things... had escaped. Shadowing this announcement was a scream, then another. Mixed with these sounds were several growls and some banging, the rest was an indescribable tumult. Our cell neighboured a stairwell, and soon enough we heard something descending it quickly. No doubt by some malevolent design, the only view from our small dungeon booth was via the barred door, which was our entrance.
The thumping of footsteps got louder.
Abruptly, a large ape-man prowled around the corner, spied us through the cage door, and jumped on it, hooting loudly. Specifically, this creature had the face of an ape, and the body of a man, dressed in a prison outfit. Seemingly discontent with merely hanging off our jail door, which had recently become quite fond to our hearts, our guest tried reaching through the bars to grab me, as I was closest to the door...
Nanami and Tsubura are fantastic, I had a wonderful night with them, and enjoyed going to school with them, but I will not avoid telling the whole truth on their behalf, there was some loud screaming coming from their side of the table. Our primate friend soon left without any physical prize to show for his efforts, but if he accepted payment in shrieking, he went away a rich man.
'Fascinating,' I remember thinking to myself, nonetheless, the pandemonium continued unabated. Evidently, the show was not yet finished. Forthwith, another escapee, this one with a more ghostly mask and a white and black prison uniform, greeted us. He shook on our door, trying to gain entry, yelling the whole time. My cell, however, refused to be the quieter party, and he met with equal wailing, and likewise leaving rich in decibels.
Following this, it appeared that the fugitives moved to a different part of the dungeon, and Tsubura started to bemoan missing the chance to get a photo of one of our previous stalkers. "You may yet get another chance," I suggested, how right I would be. In the mean time, we enjoyed looking at each other in the light of UV, trying to capture our sinister grins on film.
If only our last tormentor had arrived 3 minutes earlier, my previous statement would have seemed even more like prophecy, but arrive he did, and in a more terrifying fashion than our previous sojourners. Not content was he with rattling the cage door and yelling, he was also so direct as to tear open the door and reach in ominously, trying to leave with more than just ringing ears. I did not think the girls could scream louder, but I was wrong.
...
Overall, it was a very enjoyable evening, and even though some members of the group had screamed and recoiled, they both professed the desire to return again for a full meal. We walked back to the train station and said our farewells, remembering how our last guessed had suddenly run off, followed quickly by some other escapees. An announcement had come over then, saying that the bad guys were dead, and all was fine. A guard even went so far as to check on our health.
Good times. Enrapturing place, this country.
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