Post by Mister Steel on Mar 29, 2021 19:01:34 GMT -5
Buzz's Bar was the sort of watering hole that only someone with a reputation or a gang behind them would visit. Being dark, dingy, grimy, and far away from the six-lane highway that ran to West City tended to discourage anyone that wasn't untoward from visiting. At least one toilet was always out in either of the two bathrooms, the floors probably hadn't been mopped since Buzz "bought" the place from the previous owner, and the building didn't even have AC. Just a bunch of fans working overtime and the occasional breeze through swinging, saloon-style doors. At least the beer was cold, and the pool table had resisted buckling in a barroom brawl. And, the various bikers, brawlers, gangsters, and dirty deputies that populated the place whenever it was open kept from getting deadly while on the premises... so long as everyone followed the unspoken rules.
Unspoken rules that usually went out the window when a new face, ignorant of the social customs ingrained in the stained stools, popped in and made an ass of themselves. Like the broad fellow that pushed in the doors until they THUMPED against the wall. It was bright outside, the middle of the afternoon, so the figure was a shadow in the moments before he stepped in. He was short, prolly not even five feet, but built like a brick wall. He was almost as hairy as a gorilla, that much was obvious by how much of the stuff was poking free of his black tank-top shirt. His jeans were a bit worn and torn by time, with a chain leading to his back pocket. The only new thing he had on appeared to be a pair of hot-pink sneakers... and his mirrored shades that he kept on despite the darkness of the room. Who was this guy? Some sort of city punk here to get drugs? New muscle for the only criminal in the county that wore a suit? Or perhaps... someone here with a chip on his shoulder, someone after Buzz's bounty?
He proved himself to be none of those things when he panted and huffed his way up to the bar, sat on a stool, and fanned his face.
"PHEW! It's hot out there! 'Ey bartender, could I get a class'f water an' a shandy?"
The pause in conversation, the stillness that had permeated the bar faded when Donût showed himself to just be an idiot that could be safely ignored. At least until Nutta and his crew showed up to claim their usual section of bar, the section that Donût was sitting in. As for Buzz, the big and beefy bear man with a scar over his left eye and a greying muzzle leaned down over the bar counter to glare at the newcomer.
"We don't do no prissy drinks. Y'all either take sumthin' from tha tap straight, a proper mix, or whiskey."
"Blegh... just tha water then... Nah, y'know wut? Howsabout an iced tea?"
Buzz chuckled to himself as he nodded.
"Sure kid... sure..."
And with that, Buzz turned around and let Donût focus on the flickering TV over the bar while he mixed something up. Rather than get water or pour from the iced-tea pitcher he had... Buzz mixed together vodka, tequila, light rum, triple sec, gin, and a bit of off-brand cola together in a glass over ice. The Long Island Iced tea was set in front of the squat man.
"Here, house's uh... "special blend", kid. If ya don't like it, tough luck."
Donût just shrugged and took a sip. It sure as hell didn't TASTE like iced tea, and it burned a bit going down. However, the little man was not known for his purposeful rudeness. So he didn't insult it. He just idly sipped down the most alcoholic drink he'd had in his life while trying to beat the heat.
He would down about three of the houses "special blend" Iced Teas before a woman on a mission could come through the front door...
Zhalla
Unspoken rules that usually went out the window when a new face, ignorant of the social customs ingrained in the stained stools, popped in and made an ass of themselves. Like the broad fellow that pushed in the doors until they THUMPED against the wall. It was bright outside, the middle of the afternoon, so the figure was a shadow in the moments before he stepped in. He was short, prolly not even five feet, but built like a brick wall. He was almost as hairy as a gorilla, that much was obvious by how much of the stuff was poking free of his black tank-top shirt. His jeans were a bit worn and torn by time, with a chain leading to his back pocket. The only new thing he had on appeared to be a pair of hot-pink sneakers... and his mirrored shades that he kept on despite the darkness of the room. Who was this guy? Some sort of city punk here to get drugs? New muscle for the only criminal in the county that wore a suit? Or perhaps... someone here with a chip on his shoulder, someone after Buzz's bounty?
He proved himself to be none of those things when he panted and huffed his way up to the bar, sat on a stool, and fanned his face.
"PHEW! It's hot out there! 'Ey bartender, could I get a class'f water an' a shandy?"
The pause in conversation, the stillness that had permeated the bar faded when Donût showed himself to just be an idiot that could be safely ignored. At least until Nutta and his crew showed up to claim their usual section of bar, the section that Donût was sitting in. As for Buzz, the big and beefy bear man with a scar over his left eye and a greying muzzle leaned down over the bar counter to glare at the newcomer.
"We don't do no prissy drinks. Y'all either take sumthin' from tha tap straight, a proper mix, or whiskey."
"Blegh... just tha water then... Nah, y'know wut? Howsabout an iced tea?"
Buzz chuckled to himself as he nodded.
"Sure kid... sure..."
And with that, Buzz turned around and let Donût focus on the flickering TV over the bar while he mixed something up. Rather than get water or pour from the iced-tea pitcher he had... Buzz mixed together vodka, tequila, light rum, triple sec, gin, and a bit of off-brand cola together in a glass over ice. The Long Island Iced tea was set in front of the squat man.
"Here, house's uh... "special blend", kid. If ya don't like it, tough luck."
Donût just shrugged and took a sip. It sure as hell didn't TASTE like iced tea, and it burned a bit going down. However, the little man was not known for his purposeful rudeness. So he didn't insult it. He just idly sipped down the most alcoholic drink he'd had in his life while trying to beat the heat.
He would down about three of the houses "special blend" Iced Teas before a woman on a mission could come through the front door...
Zhalla
Mister Steel is entering this thread with 9,000 PL!
No items!
6/6 KP!
Hope the intro isn't too lengthy, this one got away from me when I finally sat down to get it out.