Post by Loki on Jun 12, 2006 21:08:00 GMT -5
I groaned as I raised myself up off the hard benches that served as beds in the county lockup. It hurt to wake up, and if I recall correctly waking up from sleep wasn’t usually a painful process. I closed my eyes and smiled slightly. Waking up wasn’t painful if you went to sleep normally. It was a different story if the cause of your sleep was several blows to the head. Smiling and simultaneously cursing the pain in my head, I rubbed my temple and felt a little bit of dry blood still crusted in my hairline. “Guess that’s what I get for going drinking.” I muttered to myself. I got up from the hard bench, stretched a little and then started doing pushups to get my blood flowing and get my body woken up. Last night might have ended badly, but it was still fun. My life hadn’t given me very many reasons to celebrate lately so coming off the heels of my second PCW match, my second PCW win for that matter, hell I was going to celebrate. I continued my little exercise routine as my mind flashed back to the previous evening’s activities.
I was electrified; I don’t think I could have felt more energized if you replaced my blood with an electrical current. My second match in PCW, second match ever for that matter, and I was on a winning streak. Granted a two win streak isn’t that impressive but that didn’t matter. This was my two match winning streak and as far as I was concerned I was on fire. I had just left the team of 2guys, Menace and Jackle in the ring with another loss to their record. I grinned broadly and said to no one in particular, “Even when you stack the odds you can’t stop me.” Still grinning I made my way down to the underground garage. I got into my car and fired up the engine, and it was only then that I sat back in a state of near exhaustion. I wasn’t physically tired, but I guess I’d just been so preoccupied by worries caused by my own self doubt that I had just about ran myself into the ground. I put the car into gear and stepped down on the gas, heading towards the first place I could find that served cold beer and played loud music, now that sounded like a relaxing evening.
I didn’t have to drive very far before I found a place. I parked my car around the block and started walking up to the place. “James’s Place” was the name of the bar and I laughed, seemed appropriate, because tonight, hell tonight was my night. I walked inside and looked around. It wasn’t exactly a dive, but it wasn’t much better either. Oh well, the sign above the bar said cold beer and the only thing I could hear was Disturbed blasting from hidden speakers, and to my recollection, that exactly what I went looking for that night. I walked up to the bar and sat down, it took me a few minutes to get the bartenders attention but after about a minute or two the guy walked over to me. “Ya, what do you want?” I thought for a second, “Eh, nothing fancy, just a Bud.” He walked away and for a minute I thought the big brute was ignoring me. As I was about to call him on it he turned around beer in hand, I shrugged mentally. Better to not get into trouble my first night out on the town in a new city.
I sat there sipping my beer, listening to the music, and just relaxing. Well I was relaxing until a rather large hand clenched in an even bigger fist slammed down on the bar next to me. I turned and looked at my would-be provocateur. Well I turned and looked at his chest anyway, I had to look up several inches to see the guys face. Damn, at 6’4”and 250 pounds, I wasn’t exactly what you would call little, but this guy was even bigger than me. I could only guess as to his actual size but I would have ventured a guess at somewhere between 6’6” and 6’9” and about 350 pounds, and drunk. I looked up at him, “there a problem?” I inquired. He sneered down at me and slurred, “Ya, you’re the problem. This is a private bar, members only. And you don’t look like no fucking member.” I narrowed my eyes and clenched and unclenched my hand. I stood up and looked him in the eye as best I could, “Your absolutely right, I’m not a member. So I’ll tell you what, let me finish my beer and I’ll be on my way. I’m tired and I really don’t want any trouble ok.”
His much smaller and slightly less drunk buddy tugged on his shirt, “Let this little shit go Bruno, he ain’t worth the effort.” I nodded, “Your friend is right, Bruno was it, I’m not worth the effort. So I’ll tell you what, on top of finishing my beer, why don’t you let me buy you a drink? Sound good.” He looked down at me, glared, and made another fist. I tensed myself ready to get punched if need be, “Your fucking lucky that Joey here stood up for you, other wise you’d be just another fucking grease smear on the floor. Now buy me a fucking Killian’s you little bitch.” I turned back to the bartender, “You hear the man, get him a Killian’s.” The bartender returned with Bruno’s beer a lot quicker than he did with mine. I took the offered bottle and gave it to the hulking sasquatch behind me, “Here you go Bruno, have a good night.” He grumbled as he turned and stomped off, and in turn I turned back towards the bar to finish my beer.
Well that was my plan until I heard a set of thunderous footsteps getting closer to me really really fast. I turned around just in time to take a bottle to the front of the head instead of the back. I slumped to the floor and spit out the mixture of broken glass and Killian’s Irish Red as Bruno screamed down at me, “NOT SO FUCKING COCKY ARE YOU NOW YOU LITTLE FUCK!” I got to my feet and looked him in the eye, “Look man, I was having a really good night, now I’m willing to look the other way this time if you’ll just apologize and leave me alone.” Well his apology came in the form of a fist and thinks didn’t proceed well from there. I feel back down and smacked my head on the bar as I fell. I stood back up, this time with blood flowing from the side of my head where it had hit the bar, “Ok, now you’ve gone and pissed me off.” He punched me again. I stayed on the floor a little bit longer this time, more by choice than by the force of his punches. Don’t get me wrong, his hand weren’t exactly feather soft but they weren’t solid steel either. I exploded up this time, driving my shoulder in and up into his gut, knocking him off his feet and landing him squarely on his back.
With the big guy down, I straddled his chest and begin to lay into his ugly mug with lefts and rights. By the time I stopped he looked like he was unconscious and a bloody mess to boot. I stood up off him, winded from throwing so many damn punches. But I kicked him in the ribs a few times for good measure and then made my way back to the bar to finish my beer. I had just sat down and taken another swig when I felt eyes on the back of my neck. And following the eyes was a hand to the back of my head that smashed it into the bar. I grabbed my bottle and swung behind me as hard as I could and I felt it connect and shatter on something, I hoped it was his face. No such luck though, the bottle had connected with his shoulder and didn’t do any real damage. I left my seat again but not by my own will this time and I was hurled off the seat and landed hard on the pool table. The big guy was on me a lot quicker than I gave him credit for and if by magic, had a pool cue in his hand. And also as if by magic it was swinging down towards my had faster than seemed possible.
I rolled to my left and nearly fell off the table, would have been a small price to pay to avoid taking a shot like that straight to the face. I rolled again and got to my feet, looking for something to fight back with. My hands found a couple of the billiard balls in the pocket nearest to me so I started grabbing for them and throwing them at him as hard as I could. I had learned a long time ago that a big target is the easiest to hit, and lucky for me this guy had a big head. I heard his nose break when the 8 ball I had just thrown connected with it and the big guy was starting to get a little wobbly on his feet. But I guess my luck was starting to run out as well, I had run out off billiard balls to chuck at him so I started to make a break for the door. I didn’t make it very far as a bar stool clipped me in the back of the head and I stumbled to the floor. Groaning as I tried to get to my feet I felt a hand on my back belt loop and around the collar of my shirt, and I tried to prepare myself for another hard landing. Well a hard landing is exactly what I got but not exactly where I expected it. I figured he would just chuck me around the bar some more like a damn football, but Bruno had other ideas. “The next time you hear members only, maybe you’ll be smarter and leave the easy way you fucking prick.” He started carrying me to the big window with “James’s Bar” printed on it and I winced, even a blind man could see where this was going.
I remember Bruno’s hands letting go of me, I remember hitting the plate glass window. What I don’t remember was landing on the concrete outside the bar and the cops putting me in handcuffs. I heard the story from the officers on the way to lock-up. When they got there, I was the only one they found and the bartender told the cops that I had gotten really drunk and just started trashing the place and going crazy. He was afraid that I was on drugs and was going to hurt him or his customers so he asked me to leave and when I heard this, apparently I decided to leave through his front window. I hope to god the cops don’t buy that story.
I snapped out of my little trance as I heard the cell door slide open. An officer walked in, “James Keenan, you are free to go. The bar owner has decided not to press any charges on you but you are banned from his establishment. Any attempt to enter it and further harass his customers will result in arrest, understood?” I nodded and headed out the cell. As I walked outside of the police station, two questions kept swirling through my head. “Wonder how much trouble I’m going to get in with PCW for this? But more importantly, where the fuck is my car?”
I was electrified; I don’t think I could have felt more energized if you replaced my blood with an electrical current. My second match in PCW, second match ever for that matter, and I was on a winning streak. Granted a two win streak isn’t that impressive but that didn’t matter. This was my two match winning streak and as far as I was concerned I was on fire. I had just left the team of 2guys, Menace and Jackle in the ring with another loss to their record. I grinned broadly and said to no one in particular, “Even when you stack the odds you can’t stop me.” Still grinning I made my way down to the underground garage. I got into my car and fired up the engine, and it was only then that I sat back in a state of near exhaustion. I wasn’t physically tired, but I guess I’d just been so preoccupied by worries caused by my own self doubt that I had just about ran myself into the ground. I put the car into gear and stepped down on the gas, heading towards the first place I could find that served cold beer and played loud music, now that sounded like a relaxing evening.
I didn’t have to drive very far before I found a place. I parked my car around the block and started walking up to the place. “James’s Place” was the name of the bar and I laughed, seemed appropriate, because tonight, hell tonight was my night. I walked inside and looked around. It wasn’t exactly a dive, but it wasn’t much better either. Oh well, the sign above the bar said cold beer and the only thing I could hear was Disturbed blasting from hidden speakers, and to my recollection, that exactly what I went looking for that night. I walked up to the bar and sat down, it took me a few minutes to get the bartenders attention but after about a minute or two the guy walked over to me. “Ya, what do you want?” I thought for a second, “Eh, nothing fancy, just a Bud.” He walked away and for a minute I thought the big brute was ignoring me. As I was about to call him on it he turned around beer in hand, I shrugged mentally. Better to not get into trouble my first night out on the town in a new city.
I sat there sipping my beer, listening to the music, and just relaxing. Well I was relaxing until a rather large hand clenched in an even bigger fist slammed down on the bar next to me. I turned and looked at my would-be provocateur. Well I turned and looked at his chest anyway, I had to look up several inches to see the guys face. Damn, at 6’4”and 250 pounds, I wasn’t exactly what you would call little, but this guy was even bigger than me. I could only guess as to his actual size but I would have ventured a guess at somewhere between 6’6” and 6’9” and about 350 pounds, and drunk. I looked up at him, “there a problem?” I inquired. He sneered down at me and slurred, “Ya, you’re the problem. This is a private bar, members only. And you don’t look like no fucking member.” I narrowed my eyes and clenched and unclenched my hand. I stood up and looked him in the eye as best I could, “Your absolutely right, I’m not a member. So I’ll tell you what, let me finish my beer and I’ll be on my way. I’m tired and I really don’t want any trouble ok.”
His much smaller and slightly less drunk buddy tugged on his shirt, “Let this little shit go Bruno, he ain’t worth the effort.” I nodded, “Your friend is right, Bruno was it, I’m not worth the effort. So I’ll tell you what, on top of finishing my beer, why don’t you let me buy you a drink? Sound good.” He looked down at me, glared, and made another fist. I tensed myself ready to get punched if need be, “Your fucking lucky that Joey here stood up for you, other wise you’d be just another fucking grease smear on the floor. Now buy me a fucking Killian’s you little bitch.” I turned back to the bartender, “You hear the man, get him a Killian’s.” The bartender returned with Bruno’s beer a lot quicker than he did with mine. I took the offered bottle and gave it to the hulking sasquatch behind me, “Here you go Bruno, have a good night.” He grumbled as he turned and stomped off, and in turn I turned back towards the bar to finish my beer.
Well that was my plan until I heard a set of thunderous footsteps getting closer to me really really fast. I turned around just in time to take a bottle to the front of the head instead of the back. I slumped to the floor and spit out the mixture of broken glass and Killian’s Irish Red as Bruno screamed down at me, “NOT SO FUCKING COCKY ARE YOU NOW YOU LITTLE FUCK!” I got to my feet and looked him in the eye, “Look man, I was having a really good night, now I’m willing to look the other way this time if you’ll just apologize and leave me alone.” Well his apology came in the form of a fist and thinks didn’t proceed well from there. I feel back down and smacked my head on the bar as I fell. I stood back up, this time with blood flowing from the side of my head where it had hit the bar, “Ok, now you’ve gone and pissed me off.” He punched me again. I stayed on the floor a little bit longer this time, more by choice than by the force of his punches. Don’t get me wrong, his hand weren’t exactly feather soft but they weren’t solid steel either. I exploded up this time, driving my shoulder in and up into his gut, knocking him off his feet and landing him squarely on his back.
With the big guy down, I straddled his chest and begin to lay into his ugly mug with lefts and rights. By the time I stopped he looked like he was unconscious and a bloody mess to boot. I stood up off him, winded from throwing so many damn punches. But I kicked him in the ribs a few times for good measure and then made my way back to the bar to finish my beer. I had just sat down and taken another swig when I felt eyes on the back of my neck. And following the eyes was a hand to the back of my head that smashed it into the bar. I grabbed my bottle and swung behind me as hard as I could and I felt it connect and shatter on something, I hoped it was his face. No such luck though, the bottle had connected with his shoulder and didn’t do any real damage. I left my seat again but not by my own will this time and I was hurled off the seat and landed hard on the pool table. The big guy was on me a lot quicker than I gave him credit for and if by magic, had a pool cue in his hand. And also as if by magic it was swinging down towards my had faster than seemed possible.
I rolled to my left and nearly fell off the table, would have been a small price to pay to avoid taking a shot like that straight to the face. I rolled again and got to my feet, looking for something to fight back with. My hands found a couple of the billiard balls in the pocket nearest to me so I started grabbing for them and throwing them at him as hard as I could. I had learned a long time ago that a big target is the easiest to hit, and lucky for me this guy had a big head. I heard his nose break when the 8 ball I had just thrown connected with it and the big guy was starting to get a little wobbly on his feet. But I guess my luck was starting to run out as well, I had run out off billiard balls to chuck at him so I started to make a break for the door. I didn’t make it very far as a bar stool clipped me in the back of the head and I stumbled to the floor. Groaning as I tried to get to my feet I felt a hand on my back belt loop and around the collar of my shirt, and I tried to prepare myself for another hard landing. Well a hard landing is exactly what I got but not exactly where I expected it. I figured he would just chuck me around the bar some more like a damn football, but Bruno had other ideas. “The next time you hear members only, maybe you’ll be smarter and leave the easy way you fucking prick.” He started carrying me to the big window with “James’s Bar” printed on it and I winced, even a blind man could see where this was going.
I remember Bruno’s hands letting go of me, I remember hitting the plate glass window. What I don’t remember was landing on the concrete outside the bar and the cops putting me in handcuffs. I heard the story from the officers on the way to lock-up. When they got there, I was the only one they found and the bartender told the cops that I had gotten really drunk and just started trashing the place and going crazy. He was afraid that I was on drugs and was going to hurt him or his customers so he asked me to leave and when I heard this, apparently I decided to leave through his front window. I hope to god the cops don’t buy that story.
I snapped out of my little trance as I heard the cell door slide open. An officer walked in, “James Keenan, you are free to go. The bar owner has decided not to press any charges on you but you are banned from his establishment. Any attempt to enter it and further harass his customers will result in arrest, understood?” I nodded and headed out the cell. As I walked outside of the police station, two questions kept swirling through my head. “Wonder how much trouble I’m going to get in with PCW for this? But more importantly, where the fuck is my car?”
