At Mo's Place in Playa Del Rey, the slick, outsized pageantry of Monday Night Football is no match for the debauched live-action carnival gleefully concocted by the proprietor.

When you first walk in, you see a typical, somewhat weathered sports bar. Faded pennants, posters, and blinking screens plaster every speck of the interior. A lively crowd gathers, but the real party starts when the game ends and Mo suddenly appears in costume.

Whether Mo's moonlighting as a fairly hairy Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, a boozed-up yet still forbidding Darth Jager, or Moville Redencracker, sleazy kin to the popcorn tycoon, table-shaking bass announces his presence as he dances in through the front door and takes a spin through the room, a headset microphone fastened around his face. In between crude jokes, Mo presides over the most haphazard raffle in existence, plucking ticket stubs out of a huge plastic bowl and pressing gifts on the winners — radios, watches, toaster ovens, drink coupons, and lots and lots of porn.

“Go Mo,” someone starts chanting. The bar joins in. “Go Mo, go Mo.” Mo gyrates like a wind-up toy, and even Panthers fans feel like winners.

Yes, it's that time of year again, or almost. This is one of over 400 pieces that will be appearing in our upcoming Best of L.A. issue, out October 6th.

LA Weekly