"Bacardi breezer, please."
Jesus, it had been five months since the last King of Fighters tournament. That voice should not have caused Mai to reflexively kick upwards and outwards (shattering the bar counter spectacularly), but it did anyways. That wasn't what annoyed her, however. What was ireally/i pissing her off was that Iori caught his kick the exact same way he had in their last fight.
"Bacardi breezer?" she snapped. "What kind of fag drinks that?"
"Mai," Iori said, calmly, in that psychopath voice of his. "Far be it for a fag like me to berate you for using such derogatory language. More to the point, I can't believe you're working here."
He burst out into laughter.
Mai slowly realizing that her display of frightening power and the subsequent destruction of one third of the bar had caused a stir, and all eyes were on her. "Look what you did, you asshole," she said, quietly, bending down and picking up bar splinters. "I'm probably going to lose my job because of this."
"You could work for me, you know," Iori replied. "I know it's demeaning for superb warriors like ourselves to have day jobs, but I'm currently the proprietor of a fabulous hotel, so-"
"You mean that flea-ridden, cockroach infested eyesore down the road?"
"The very same, my dear Mai."
"Piss off."
"Miss Shiranui!" a tiny little man shrieked, scuttling through the patrons over the bar. "What is the meaning of this outburst and destruction?"
Mai sighed. "Iori, meet Mister Collins. He's a four foot tall misogynistic goblin, but he pays my bills. Well, up until now, I guess."
"This is the third such mistake you've made, Miss Shiranui!" Mister Collins said. "Think of what this'll cost. I take you in, a dumb brunette off the streets, a dumb, uneducated slob like you, Miss Shiranui, and this is how you repay me? By damaging my property? I'll give you one last chance, Miss Shiranui. Now, clean this mess up!"
Mai considered it : it would be so simple to drive her foot through his head, and for a split second feel his tiny skull and brain fragments coat her toes and heel before splattering halfway across the city. The feeling would be marvelous.
"Yes, Mister Collins," she said, and continued to pick up the splinters.
"You once crushed a man's jugular for calling you a bindlestiff," Iori said, watching Mister Collins scuttle away. "What exactly are you doing letting that little fart live?"
"As I said," Mai replied. "He pays my bills. The ability to kick through cement blocks ain't in high demand these days, pal."
"Mai, seriously. My bar needs a tender and you'd be perfect. I mean, my God, that was absolutely hilarious watching that little troglodyte dress you down, but I also hated to see it. Come to my hotel. I'll double your pay."
"I'm not working for you, you sociopath," Mai said. "I'll wake up one morning decapitated, in a box, being sent to Kyo, just so you can piss him off."
"You broke up with him, though."
"Kind've."
"What do you mean 'kind've'?"
"I mean kind've. Like, we don't date, but every once and a while if we're both lonely, we end up in a bed somewhere."
"So you're not with him anymore."
"No, but I technically haven't broken up with him."
"Mai, could I please have that breezer?"
She tossed the bottle onto the bar and it spun into his hand. "Here. Easier than making a cocktail, that's for sure."
Iori took a sip and stared at her breasts. Mai stared at him for about a minute or so, knowing what he was doing, and said, "For a hundred bucks, I'll give you a better show."
"No, no, no," Iori said. "Jesus, Mai. I'm just confused by them."
"Never knew they were so puzzling."
"That's the thing. They look real and I confirmed that they were real when we had a scuffle a few years back-"
"How can I forget?"
"They're marvelous, by the way."
"Wonderful. I should-"
"Hold on, I'm not finished. They're real, so I don't understand how you can be as buxom as you are. Breasts are mostly fat, and you're in incredible shape. I doubt there's an ounce of fat on you, except in Betty and Veronica there."
"What can I say? I inherited them from my grandmother. I'm told it skips a generation. If I wasn't in such incredible shape, my back would be broken."
Mister Collins was suddenly beside them again and said, "Miss Shiranui?"
Mai jumped. Jesus, that little shrimp can move quietly, she thought. "Y-yes, Mister Collins?"
"I know there's not many synapses and electrodes moving up in that female grey matter of yours, Miss Shiranui, but I believe that you've been talking to this man here and have been ignoring the other customers."
"I'm sorry-"
"No, I'm afraid that's it, Miss Shiranui. Strike four. Usually there'd only be three strikes, but I'm a kind man, especially kind to underprivileged young woman like you, but this is it. I'm afraid I'm going to have to let you go."
Iori stuck a cigarette between his teeth and lit it. "I suppose you'll only make an exception if she pleads and begs?"
Mister Collins flushed and drew himself up to full height - four foot three. "I'm afraid that won't be enough."
"I wasn't finished," Iori said, taking a drag from the cigarette, then handing it over to Mai. "I'm sure if she pleads and begs and then is extra nice to you later on tonight, you might reconsider the firing."
Mister Collins flushed redder, his face colouration going on into purple.
Mai let out a puff of smoke, regarding the little man. "Jesus," she said.
"Get out," Mister Collins snapped. "Get out, both of you!"
"I'm actually going to finish my drink, thank you very much," Iori said.
"No-! I'm the proprietor and when I say get out, get-"
Iori grabbed the little man's face and sunk his nails into the man's cheek. He then effortlessly threw him across the room. The little man's form bounced twice, like a rubber ball, then disappeared into a few chairs and tables loudly.
Mai blinked. "We better get out of here," she said. "before someone calls the police."
She grabbed her coat and added, "You Goddamn psychopath."
Outside it was raining. A few of the streetlamps were burnt out, making the walk down the city streets dark and unpleasantly hard to see.
"You jerk," Mai said. "You Goddamn jerk. I just lost my job. It just sunk in. I just lost my job because of you!"
"Ah, the guy was an asshole anyways," Iori said. "Don't worry about it. You can work at my hotel."
"I don't want to work at your Goddamn hotel!" she screamed at him.
Then, because it was the one thing she knew best, she kicked him in the face. Though a man like Mister Collins would've crumpled immediately like sour milk, Iori took it magnificently, his nose bursting bloodily and his feet actually staying on the ground, though he skidded back four or five feet.
It was an accident really, a definite reflex. Iori's arm moved pretty much on its own, and in the next few minutes Mai was in a gurney heading into emergency for losing an eye.
"Shit, shit, shit," Iori muttered, standing over an unconscious Mai as the nurses worked furiously to stop the bleeding. "It was a reflex, honestly. She kicked me, so I scratched in the face."
The woman standing next to him looked like a cartoonist's impression of a feminist extremist, circa the 1950s. She was a beautiful statuesque woman, dressed oddly in a man's tuxedo. Iori lit a joint - far too shook up and irresponsible to notice if any of the nurses cared - sucked on it and handed it to the woman.
King took it and smoked it. "Ah, Mai's a fighter," she said. "She'll recover soon. And you found the eye right? They can reattach it. Amazing what modern medicine does these days, honest."
"Honestly, I just went to that bar for a drink," Iori said. "I guess I screwed things up for Mai, huh?"
"It's because you're attracted to her," King said. "Unconsciously you say and do stupid things."
"One, I'm not really into women. Two, I wouldn't be attracted to Mai and her prize watermelons, all right? I just wanted to offer her a job."
"What, at your hotel?"
"Of course. You want to work too?"
"Can't. I'm a manager at a furniture store these days. Sucks, but you know. Pays the bills."
"Right. Everyone's gotta have a day job."
Iori sat down in a chair and waited for Mai to wake up.