Tales from Bulfinche's Pub

Let's admit it. The world is far from perfect. Nobody believes in magic anymore. Or gods. Or Vampires. Hope itself is on the endangered list. Especially in New York City.

Despite this, there's a place in Manhattan where the impossible not only exists, but bellies up to the bar to drink its fill. Owned by leprechaun Paddy Moran, it's a place where Dionysus pours the drinks and Hercules watches the door. It is a second home to the legends of our day and a beacon to troubled souls, all lead there by the simple magic of the rainbow. The name of the place is Bulfinche's Pub.

One never knows what will come in the door next: Armageddon, or a terrified man with no socks. Whatever happens, two things are certain: Hope and Happiness never die, and the first drink is always on the house.