Frost's Saloon

Skate on over to the saltiest spot this side of the South Pole. Just make sure to keep the peace, as the owner doesn’t care much for brawling, or AtomicCo. for that matter. The lore goes that Frost’s Saloon was established shortly after AtomicCo. arrived in the Antarctic by a cynical man named Bart Frost. Frost was born in Florida to a wealthy family. However, Frost would make his own way as a traveling salesman, selling liquor across the southernmost reaches of Argentina, and carving a healthy niche for himself in the process, enjoying a comfortable, if not a bit frosty, lifestyle. At some point, Frost was tipped off to AtomiCo’s ventures in the Antarctic, and found an opportunity to capitalize by building a permanent place to sell his alcohol concoctions. The saloon was thus built (as cheaply as possible, rumors suggest) at the southern end of Enderby Cove, near the other shops and establishments. In his memoirs, which are scattered on one of the walls of the saloon in the form of ripped excerpts ‘taped’ on the icy sheet metal surfaces, Frost writes:

Some might find my surname of ‘Frost’ fitting, being that I chose to sell my alcoholic concoctions in one of the world’s coldest regions, but they obviously know very little of my heritage. My family loathed the cold, and they settled in Florida for that reason. My father ventured so far as to say that he would disown any of his children should they be stupid enough to leave the Sunshine State, much less to a region where it snows. Before I traveled to Argentina, no Frost had even so much as seen the snow. Of my business in the south, my father would have been most appalled, but I always say, one shouldn’t worry where they make their fortune, so long as they can make it to begin with. Thus, my travels would lead me to the Antarctic, and fate would have it that I would be neighbor to that fool corporation. While their politics don’t concern to me, the sorrows of their scientists do, and I’d be more than willing to help drown them, for a price, naturally.

Frost’s Saloon resembles most any other weathered watering hole one might find out West. Complete with two floors, its setup is not unlike the traditional Golden Horseshoe one would find at Disneyland. The décor, however, is perhaps more rustic and less sophisticated from an aesthetic perspective. Amidst its wooden beams and dusty rafters are large pieces of cold sheet metal and shiny tin plates attached to the walls in mishmash fashion. Colorful, striped flags hang from the ceiling, along with assorted picture frames of Frost’s travels in Argentina. Conventional wooden sleds and other snow equipment are stored in the upper level of the saloon, along with crates stocked with an assortment of colorful glass bottles and strange syrups. At the U-shaped bar itself, they may choose from one of the saloon’s many selections.