David Staessens (Programmer)
Indiana "Indi" Shirley (Artist)
Karel Crombecq (Programmer and Designer)
Luke Jacobs (Sound Engineer)
Nicky De Proost (Writer and Designer)
Quoc Luu Nguyen (Artist)
In San Francisco, Prohibition is only a rumor.
While America has gone dry and the mob is eagerly trying to quench the ensuing thirst with the right spirit, the old flappers of the City by the Bay remain woefully unaware they are supposed to be missing out. In between sipping the giggle water and drowning in moonshine, the Booze Hounds and Jazz Cats are having the time of their lives in the wake of the American Dream.
Then again, living in constant fear, waiting for the next earthquake to hit, would make any man gladly ignore any and all laws that prevent a decent shindig.
The torture is in the anticipation.
And in the pain.
Mostly the pain, really.
It is 1930 and San Fran has not had a disaster like the Great One in twenty-four years -- maybe one day they’ll even call it a quiet period.
Sure, juice joints are the only places you can get decent hooch these days, unless you’re willing to guzzle bathtub gin, but none of us are getting randomly crushed by pianos so that’s a plus in my ledger. You can even get dizzy with the dames without being on fire if you both have a snoot full of coffin varnish.
Still, it ain’t booshwash when I say we’re still dealing with the ghosts of our past. If you know your onions you mind your own potatoes, I always say… but I’d swear this city is haunted.
If the Prohibition is a sham, then so is this Quiet Period.
All we can do is pray the ghosts are on our side.