The tavern used to be Mike Callahan's place, and it looked more or less like your average friendly neighborhoo bar . . . except for the patrons. There was the occasional alien, talking dog, and mythological creature or two, not to mention the usual assortment of humanity. And, of course, there were the time travelers, and you'd better be careful--they pay cash because it's harder than hell to make sure thier checks clear. There were always people who'd show up and want to bust up the place, so that somebody else would feel just as bad as THEY did. That's why Callahan's was the kind of place it was; a healing place, a place where people would listen to your problems and reach out to help, but never ask a nosy question; a place where anyone could step up, make a toast, and throw their glass into the fireplace. In short, the kind of place for everyone--a place to relax and just be yourself . . .
But all thing must pass---though most don't get vaporized in a nuclear blast like Callahan's bar. You see, there was this super-destructive alien Beast that came along looking to wipe out the human race. They had to nuke the bar to stop it, no doubt causing some raised eyebrows at covert government listening posts all over the world.
Now there's a new Callahan's named for Callahan's daughter, Mary, and run by Jake Stonebender and his lovely wife, Zoey Berkowitz. It is just as friendly as the old Callahan's, and for better or worse, just as unique, with an equally bizarre and loveable clientele.
Come one in and pull up a stool . . .

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