"I'm way more punk than you. Call that look fucking punk? Baggy fucking pants and skate shoes? Fucking dick. Such a fucking poser, and what the fuck kinda' mohawk is that?"

"It's a fauxhawk..."

"Well it looks like shit. For fuck's sake. Where's your fucking Doc Martens, lad?"

"My wha'?"

"Fucking Christ. What do they teach your generation at school?"

"Well y'know... Geography, physics..."

"I meant... Oh fuck it, never mind... What about music, lad? Even if you dress like a posing dick you gotta' like some proper shit, right?"

"Well, y'know..." the youth said once again though this time he paused, for he knew what was coming the second he opened his mouth. "Like, Green Day, NoFX, Blink 182..."

He waited, eyeing the older punk warily but the man appeared to be nothing short of thoughtful.

"Now I'll concede," he replied, pausing as he lit a cigarette. "That Billie Joe's got quite the voice on him, ain't no fucker better on the skins than that Travis Barker and NoFX are pretty much the closest mainstream alternative to proper punk there is... But none of them are proper punk, lad. What about the Sex Pistols? Cock55? The Buzzcocks? Cock Sparrer? The Business? Some real fucking get down and dirty beat the shit outta' everyfucker punk?"

The youth looked blankly at him, for he had never even heard of any of those listed artists. He could definitely detect a genital-related theme though.

"Right, c'mon... There's a place 'round here somewhere you can learn everyfuckingthing you need to know."

"I dunno'..." said the youth.

"Think I'm gonna' give you a packet of Dolly Mixtures and expect a blowey in return?" the punk asked, chuckling. "Sorry to disappoint, kid, but you've got too much cock for my liking. Now are you coming or what?"

Reluctantly the youth followed the man in his Doc Marten boots, skin tight checker trousers and torn tee. He was a little more dubious about doing so when the man turned into a narrow alley but when he saw a large, suited bespectacled fellow at the front of a line of other people, quite clearly a doorman, he felt a little better about things.

If there were that many people around the chances of him getting buggered to buggery were slim, though the moment he had that thought he did touch the nearest wooden object, a doorframe, just in case.

"Evenin', Jonny," said the burly fellow with a nod as the youth followed the man straight to the front of the line. "Who's the scrote?"

"Ah y'know, Dave. Some poor fucker needin' somethin' by way of a proper education."

"Right you are, in you both go then. Bottles are free 'til five and twenty past."

Jonny and the youth entered the building and were greeted by the sights and smells one might expect of such an establishment: obnoxiously loud guitar driven punk music playing over the jukebox, stale urine and not quite as stale vomit, and a whole lot of people enjoying what was apparently a rather good night.

"Give us a couple, Evie," said Jonny with a wink, smile and nod to the heavily pierced, heavily tattooed female working the bar. She responded in a similar fashion, although with the added bonus that she placed two bottles of Newcastle Brown Ale onto the bar.

"Now," said Jonny, turning to the youth. "Sit, drink, watch and listen."

The youth did as the punk bade him and he was almost halfway down his bottle of Newky Brown when he tapped Jonny, who was studiously ogling Evie's newest nipple piercings at the time, upon the shoulder.

"What is it, kid?" he asked, irritably and without turning.

"Just wondering if that's supposed to happen, Jonny," he replied.

"What?" Jonny sighed, and turned to look in the direction the youth was pointing, and what he saw, he figured, was probably something that was definitely not supposed to happen, for what looked to be something very much like one of those portals off one of those science fiction shows on the telly, y'know, the one with the dinosaurs and that fit little blonde thing, was shimmering away quietly in the corner of the room, and no one else appeared to have noticed. "Well I'll be fucked..."

Moments later Jonny was fucked. Or at least he was, if the definition of 'fucked,' is to receive an arrow through one's right eye.

The youth watched open mouthed as Jonny, with an incredibly surprised expression upon his face, dropped dead to the floor, and then still open mouthed, as gormless as the day he was born, he turned back to the portal just in time to see Robin Hood and his Merry Men make their way through from, well... Sherwood Forest, he supposed.

"I demand to see the owner of this establishment," the man attired in green tights bellowed. "And what in the name of all creation is that god-awful noise?"

"Meh, fuck off back to Sherwood, Robin," someone shouted, complete with a loud guffaw from his friends. "Give that Marian a proper good seeing to and tell her I'm gonna' be 'round later to finish her off."

An arrow quickly finished him off, and his friend received the same treatment.

"Now, I will ask again but not a third time so ye folk be warned..."

Robin never managed to ask for a second time, never mind the third for at that very moment several bolts of, well, something, shot out of the portal and fried him and his Merry Men alive.

Then, from within the portal, two men and a woman, all attired similarly in brown leather tunics and large, brass goggles, emerged.

"Yeah, we showed those bloody MythPunk buggers!" one of the men exclaimed as he and his companions stepped forth. "Now, who runs this establishment. My friends and I..."

What he and his friends wanted, the youth and everyone else within the bar never knew for just as suddenly as the blasts from their rayguns had taken out Robin Hood and his Merry Men, Alice Cooper and Ozzy Osbourne emerged and quite literally tore off their heads with their teeth.

"GothPunk, bitches!"

Seconds later though the two aging rockers were no more as a light as bright and hot as one might expect to find in the very centre of a supernova disintegrated them instantly before a large group of people, all reasonably well dressed carrying placards declaring such things as 'Solar Power is the Only Power,' 'And So Is Wind Power and Tidal Power,' and 'Out With Big Oil and Gas and Shit,' found themselves in the bar.

"GreenPunk?" the youth asked, with far more volume than he might otherwise have intended.

"Yes, indeed," a bearded man who looked as though he had never even seen a dead animal, let alone eaten one, replied. "Now, who..?"

The youth sighed as the entire group of placard wielding Greenpunkers were taken out by a single canon, and in a manner that implied he had swung through on a rope, a pirate landed upon the dirty hardwood floor.

"I'll have another please, Evie," the youth said, turning momentarily back to the bar.

"Yargh," said the pirate, though he fell to the ground shortly thereafter as several large rocks were thrown at his head and a group of Neanderthals, the men fur-wrapped and the women scantily clad - 'cos even back in the day, men knew what they wanted - emerged. The Neanderthal women quickly leapt upon the tables and started dancing to the music, which the youth found to be a rather surreal experience.

But then there was an inordinately bright flash of orange light and before the youth knew what was what, there was a large orange 'W,' hovering in mid-air. From it a megaphone protruded, a megaphone with a large orange mouth with enormous pearly white teeth, no less.

"WattPunk," Evie muttered from behind the bar. "They'll sort this mess out, don't worry."

It was fair to say the youth was more interested than worried, and he watched and listened eagerly as the WattPunk 'W,' spoke."

"Right you lot. Enough's enough. Cut these hijinks out now, or we'll send the Ambassadors in, and none of you want that do you?"

In unison the Neanderthals shook their heads, despondently.

"Good," WattPunk continued. "Now back to StonePunk with you."

The orange 'W,' waited until the last of the Neanderthals had disappeared through the portal before it spoke again.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, folks. We try not to let this kind of thing happen but every so often, y'know..."

As if that was enough of an apology for completely ruining the bar and killing a few folk in the process the big orange 'W,' flashed back through the portal and it closed with a thoroughly dissatisfying silence.

Oddly, not many people decided to stick around after that and within the merest of moments only the youth and Evie remained.

"Talk about fucking up a night," she said with a sigh. "But hey, how about you help me clear up and then I'll show you a couple of piercings Jonny never laid his eyes upon?"