We've recently witnessed a strange and disturbing phenomenon at the Brooksider. (Slider, Cider House, B-Side, etc. -- is there any other bar in KC with as many nicknames as this one?) Shouts of "four grape bombs!" and "another Rumple!" pierce the air, backed by the insistent drumbeat of glasses hitting the table. Scantily clad women, guys clamoring for their attention and Jäger: It's like a scene from American Pie: The College Years. Our only question: Who ordered the Irish car bombs?