P'TUNARD

P’Tunard was always the couple’s favorite non-Korean haunt.  There was an Asian flavor to it that they enjoyed.  But not too Asian.  Just enough. 

Before appetizers, they partook in the Festival of Flaming Headdresses.  They’d been 0 for 2, so they hoped that this time would bring them the victory they'd craved (it wasn’t to be).

After that, a dip in P’Tunard’s world-famous Stinging Springs.  Nothing really got their appetites going like a refreshing scald.

Toweled off, they followed the bleeding skulls to their table.  The waiter, dressed in the traditional P’Tunard black hood, served the regulars rum-soaked corn puffs.  After downing those, the couple ordered two sets of double steaks and a side order of pale skin shavings to share. 

P’Tunard was ‘their’ place.  They’d sampled just about every entrée and tried many of the treatments.  The one thing that they’d shied away from, however, was the Hall of Rusty Blades.

-SLL