"Sorry, but could you repeat that for me?" Alan asked as politely as possible. He knew goblins hated repeating themselves, but this time, he needed to know what had just been said.

The goblin shrugged. "The martini bottles all got up and staged something of a mutiny last week. There's none left here until the next shipment in a fortnight. Sorry, boys, but you'll have to ask for something else."

Alan looked at his seven work colleagues. It was his turn to pay for the first drinks tonight, but it appeared their tradition was going to have to be altered somewhat. "You're talking like they sprouted legs and ran off."

The goblin narrowed his eyes, stepping closer to the counter as a staff member moved behind him to take orders from other customers. "They sprouted arms, too." He pointed his finger at a small bandage across the left side of his cheek. "I'd rather not talk about it. So, what are you having?"

"How did they come to life, bro?" Nathanial asked, enthusiastically. "That sound's totally rad!"

Charles shot the jockey a glare. Nathanial shrugged his shoulders dismissively.

"We have three resident sorcerers currently, and all three of them have been accusing one another of practising animating spells to bring whatever they want to life. We caught two candlesticks..." The goblin scratched the back of his small head. "Well, never mind that. We're not kicking any of them out until the police have proof of who did it, and they're locked up. I don't think we're going to see the bottles again."

"Dude, I am so sorry to hear that," Nathanial said with a dramatic sigh.

"We'll get the bugger," The goblin sniffed. "Now, anyway, enough talking about that. What am I getting you all?"

There was some deliberation between the ground, but ultimately they got what they desired, before drinking their hearts away. Outside, the snow was falling, and the Christmas Carollers were singing across the street to residents and their families, adding to the Christmas spirit.

That Christmas Spirit was broken when police sirens broke through the cheerfulness, quickly getting louder and louder until they were right outside.

"What the f-?" Nathanial couldn't finish his sentence.

The building began to shake as if struck by an earthquake. That feeling of the entire building rising up was felt, and there was a mighty groan from something long-since dormant.

Alan climbed onto his part of the couch, peering out of the window. "Er, boss?" He called out to the goblin bartender. "You might want to come and see this! It looks like the pub's grown legs!"

As officers outside demanded the sorcerers to step outside, the entire building with its new legs began to run. The goblin - his eyes burning with fury - drew a machete from beneath the bar counter. "That's it. I've had enough of them." Without another word, he began to march upstairs to the sorcerers rooms.