How to Name a Story Company

"I know, I know!"

Jim thumped his glass of beer so hard on the table, a bit spilled out. Not that that mattered, the table was covered in stains anyway.

Aaron raised his eyebrows. He was at that point in his drinking where the jollity wore off and the cynicism set in.

"You know what, Jimmy boy?" he drawled.

"I know what we can call this company," Jim yelled, making folks at the other tables turn and stare.

"You do? What?" Aaron asked.

"We'll call it The yarn company. Hey, what's the matter? Don't like it? They call it spinning a yarn when you tell a story, don't they? And that's what we're out to do, tell stories?"

"Lousy idea," Aaron muttered.

"What id you say?" Jim was at the belligerent phase of drinking, and he leaned across and grabbed Aaron. It wasn't the dignified move he had hoped for, because Aaron shifted back and Jim caught a couple of his buttons.

"I said lousy idea," Aaron repeated, putting his beer mug down and prising Jim's fingers off his buttons. "People would think we're in textiles."

"But that's just it! Text, that's what we're going to produce! Weave the fabric of a tale!"

"I'd like to cool your tail in the snow," Aaron muttered. "Your brain is melting, looks like."

"Listen, I know how we can settle this. I'll send Minnie a text. If she says it's a good name, will you agree?"

Aaron thought a moment, then nodded. "If Minnie agrees, I'll go with you. Hey, Tom, another one of the same, and get us some more nuts, can you?"

Jim fumbled in his pocket for his phone, managed to focus on the keypad, and punched away, his tongue sticking out a bit as he concentrated.

"There," he remarked, punching a final key.

He stared at the screen. He started to smile, then the smile was wiped off and his eyes widened.

"What's up?" Tom the barman asked, putting down more beer and nuts on fhe table after giving it a cursory flick with his dishcloth.

"M-m- message blocked," Jim stuttered. "Minnie's blocked me."

"Yeah, I always knew that girl was sensible!" Aaron chortled.

"Now, now, gentlemen," Tom intervened, as the two reached for each other. "You're friends, you don't need to brawl."

"Do, too," Jim shouted.

"Listen, why don't you take a train to nowhere," Aaron yelled back.

"He can't. There's a railway strike," Tom said, in an attempt to be reasonable. "Now gentlemen, let's settle this. What is the fight about?"

"We're going to start this great production and publishing company and he wants to call it Yarn Something."

"The Yarn Company!"

"You see? What sense does that make?"

"Maybe the Yawn Company if the stories are boring," someone called from the table across the room.

Immediately, Aaron and Jim grasped right hands in a gesture of solidarity.

"Hey!" Aaron called to the stranger across the room. "My pal may have some weird suggestions for names, but he tells interesting stories."

"Yeah! And my buddy and I might fight sometimes, but we are going to make a success of this!"

"Great, then, let's drink to that," the stranger smiled back, raising his mug. "To the success of the yarn company, whatever be its final name."

"Cheers," cried a dozen or so voices from other tables.

Soon, everyone was back to their cheerful friendly state. There was a happy hum of conversation.

Tom the barman crossed the room.

"Thanks, brother," he whispered to the stranger. "I owe you one."