If Harry Purvis holding court at the White Hart made you grin—spinning capers like “Armaments Race” or the sensory-tech shenanigans of “Patent Pending”—you’ll feel right at home at Callahan’s bar. In these stories, time travelers, telepaths, and other oddballs swap outrageous, pun-laced accounts over drinks, each tale building to a clever, often heartfelt kicker. It’s the same convivial mix of scientific mischief, deadpan delivery, and communal storytelling you loved in Tales from the White Hart—just with even wilder visitors bellied up to the bar.

If the White Hart’s frame—Harry Purvis suavely launching into a new marvel the moment someone buys him a drink—was half the fun for you, meet Mr. Jorkens. In Dunsany’s club, a glass of whiskey unlocks globe-spanning, reality-bending adventures, delivered with the same urbane, tongue-in-cheek cadence that makes Purvis such a delight. You’ll recognize the ritual of genial skepticism, mounting improbability, and a final, disarming flourish—only this time the raconteur is Jorkens, and the billiards-club crowd plays the same role as Clarke’s barflies.

If you loved how White Hart episodes like “The Ultimate Melody” or “Patent Pending” take a single brainy premise and push it to a punchline, Lem’s linked tales about Trurl and Klapaucius do that on overdrive. One story has an invention that can create anything beginning with the letter N; another builds a poetry machine that composes on command. Each vignette stands alone, wrapping a sharp scientific conceit in exuberant wit—very much the breezy, idea-first snap you enjoyed, with an extra dash of playful philosophy.

If the sly reversals at the end of White Hart pieces—like the cinematic arms race gag in “Armaments Race”—hooked you, Chiang’s stories deliver that same cerebral click, but with deeper aftershocks. “Story of Your Life” reveals its linguistic and temporal twist with exquisite inevitability, while “Tower of Babylon” literalizes ancient cosmology to a stunning, logic-perfect conclusion. You get the same satisfaction of set‑up, escalation, and ingenious payoff—crafted with the rigor of a thought experiment and the surprise of a great pub tale.

If Clarke’s tall tales tickled you with their dry delivery and science-flavored punchlines—say, the cheeky escalation of “Armaments Race”—Adams turns that sensibility into a full-on comic romp. From Arthur Dent hitching a ride off Earth post-demolition to the Infinite Improbability Drive and the horrors of Vogon poetry, every chapter builds toward a gag that skewers sci‑fi logic and human foibles. It’s the same smart, breezy humor you enjoyed at the White Hart, just splashed across the whole absurd universe.