(Fiorello does, in fact, see a number of bottles lined up behind a bar, but that's because he went too far into the room and phased through the rear wall into some kind of hidden back area! There are far more people here, and they appear to be having an excellent time... There is no obvious door leading from the main room to the back room)

Amaruve strolls into the shop. He'd almost fit in in his suit and the, though a bit of an odd style, however the heavy proton blaster on his back is definitely out of place. He stands near a large iron door with a small shuttered window set in it. The shutter slides open and Amaruve catches sight of someone inside. Eyeing him up and down. "Password" a voice mumbles from within.

 "Password?" Amaruve asks, "Oh, Tony?" He says gesturing toward the child by his side.

Tony considers a moment, “Musk ox.”

The ghost guy behind the door is quiet for a minute, then busts out laughing. "Hey, Joey!" He calls it to someone unseen. "Some little half-pint and his circus freak friends want a drink! Yooz want I should let them inside?" His attention shifts back to you all with an eyebrow raised. "Hey, kid-are those boxing gloves you got hanging on your neck?" He looks at Patrick. "Yooz his pops? Tell you what, you sign up Junior for a little boxing match out back and we'll see about getting you on the list. Capisce?"

Tony laughs maniacally in his head as flames dance in his eyes! However, outside, he simply says, “Yes please. I don’t know much about boxing, but I sure do like it! I just wish I was better...”

MAD CACKLING

In a booth in the corner Amaruve discusses with Burble the oddities of ghost society. These ghosts act really... 'lively'. Amaruve presumes Burble must find this insensitive, but the wisp obviously isn't letting it bother him.

Fiorello, through his ghoulish ride, works the bar like a pro, though nobody really sees him, what they do notice however is bottles flipping, flying and concoctions being made, but... with no body making them.  Ted however hears the humming of Wrecks as he's making all of the ingredients move around to pour and stir Fiorello's potions.

Jean understood the important part of all of this. Alcohol. In the adventure that had befallen them, the once simple guardswoman from Waterdeep had been turned into a mouse, fought in the robot apocalypse, assumed any number of identities in many more bizarre alternate realities and here was the object of adolescent lust for four humanoid turtles who somehow got roped into investigating ghosts. Jean realized something, she wanted alcohol. Lots of alcohol.

Fiorello does his work entirely for the benefit of the ghosts in the back room. The rest of the party remains in the main foyer of the Leisure Hall as they are still standing in front of the bolted door TO the back room. 

Quote from JcAndD >>

Tony laughs maniacally in his head as flames dance in his eyes! However, outside, he simply says, “Yes please. I don’t know much about boxing, but I sure do like it! I just wish I was better...”

The ghost behind the door grunts and says, "Alright then. Listen up, if yooz lot want back here, yer gonna have to win a... perfectly legal competition. It JUST so happens that we've got a little event planned in a few minutes, but one of my boys didn't show up today. We're in need of a warm-up act, if you catch my drift." His eyes move back to Tony. "I'll let you all in to enjoy the festivities, but I expect to see the little man in the ring out back in TEN MINUTES, unnerstand?"

Tony nods innocently, “Oh yes, I understand perfectly.”

Quote from JcAndD >>

Tony nods innocently, “Oh yes, I understand perfectly.”

The ghost grunts, and the eyeport slides shut. You hear a comical number of bolts and latches being unlocked, and finally the door swings open to reveal a short flight of stairs leading down into a basement.

Stepping into the underground Lounge, you are met with a surprisingly large room. There is a fully stocked bar along the NORTH wall (behind which Fiorello continues to perform a series of bottle tricks for an audience of zero). Most of the ghosts in attendance are dancing on the central floor, accompanied by a five piece band on a raised stage on the EAST wall. They're playing a dancy tune and, let's be honest, it's the world's best music.

There are two exits. One is the stairwell you just exited along the SOUTH wall, and the other is next to bar on the NORTH wall.

There is a roped-off section along the WEST wall. Velvet curtains partially obscure your view of the smoke-filled room beyond. A horse masked figure sits beside the velvet rope blocking your access to this area, which all of the ghosts in the basement seem to be ENTIRELY unaware of. A brass sign next to the seated man reads: "The 1989 Room: Arcade"

Oh, also, the man guarding the room is the only person you've seen in 1920's brooklyn who is NOT blue. He stands out like a sore thumb for that reason. Also, because he looks like this:

As the gang finally enters the lounge, Fiorello beckons them all over for one of his ghostly (or was it ghastly?) concoctions, but as the drinks are being poured, Wrecks notices the band taking a break. And although the music they were playing was really swinging, he turns his attention to the bandstand, uses a little poltergeist action to get the brass and percussion sections moving and turns it up to 11.

Roll 'Poltergeist', Fiorello!

Getting Ghostly: 4 +5

Tony snaps and tries to grab the attention of the group, “Ey, looks like horse-head’s here. What’s the plan?”

Quote from Penguini >>

Getting Ghostly: 12 +4

And the band plays on!

 The guy in the horse mask starts bobbing his head and tapping his foot. 

(Because everyone seems to be very busy this week...)

The camera cuts to Tonya and Cordelia in the lounge inside of Porphyrion. A very large flat screen of glass and silver hovers in mid-air between them. The screen flashes with images of the 1920's nighclub, now in full swing thanks to Fiorello's ghostly inspiration. Cordelia sits with one leg up on her oversized arm chair, a scowl plastered across her face. Tonya has taken on a look of long-suffering; apparently Cordelia has been going on for a while.

"...I don't believe this. I don't BELIEVE this. I'm out for a bare HANDFUL of leaps and THESE are the places they go? First it was the world full of puppies, and NOW they're in a reality in which the FREAKING GHOSTBUSTERS ARE REAL?!" She chucks a box of popcorn at the screen. "UNbelievable."

Tonya crosses her legs on her perch on the desktop and places her chin in her tiny hands. "I don't get it. They seem like glorified exterminators. What's the big deal?"

Cordelia pinches the bridge of her nose and, after a long moment, gives Tonya a withering look. "Tonya, you may the next thing to a goddess, now, but that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

There's a crash as Kyo, who has momentarily grown to roughly the size of a freight engine, bounds out of the darkness chasing a blue shadow. Tonya and Cordelia look at one another, then burst out laughing as they turn back to the screen.

Ted, walking in with his guitar on his shoulder, and his amp in his hand, decides the band needs some accompaniment. Ignoring the others, he drops his amp near the stage and proceeds to rock out with them.

Perspicacious is getting tired. There's no focus here! Everything is moment to moment, and she's still trying to figure out what exactly they're supposed to do. This place is the first interesting place they've seen, full of probably all sorts of clues, but her host just wants to play his musical device, the loudest and most obnoxious lute she's ever seen.

In between songs, Ted is having a good time, ignoring the world's problems and focusing on his music. He couldn't wait to tell Bill how he rocked out with some ghosts! In between sets, he reaches into his pocket to replace a broken guitar pick, and his hand closes around what feels like a coin, and it's slightly warm. Ted is unsure if that is non-heinous, or non non-heinous. 

Perspicacious' senses tingle. Ah, now... there is an idea...

Perspicacious, the Mammon coin isn't just warm, it's HOT-almost painfully so. Your soul doesn't feel at risk of being ripped out of your body against its will, but there's a definite feeling of imminent need coming from the coin. Not for the first time, it feels like it WANTS to be used.

(EDIT: while the Mammon coin is very warm, there don't seem to be any golden threads extending from it. Which is... weird...)

The dude in the horse mask, still sitting in his chair by the roped off private room, waves at you all enthusiastically. He beckons your party over.