Satirizing- Sports Bars
You park your car in the parking lot of your favorite nighttime hangout- Stormageddon's Bar and Grill. You walk through the tinted doors into the musty room, walking straight to your usual seat at the bar. From here, you have the perfect view of the 1995 cubic television over the side of the bar. The bartender saunters over to you smiling, a glass already in hand.
"There you are! It's already quarter to six. I was afraid you wouldn't show!" He laughs as he pours a thick brown liquid into your glass.
"It's Tuesday, Alfie: I wouldn't miss it for the world!" You beam. Alfie is a balding, chubby man in his mid-thirties, and he's probably the funniest person you've ever met.
"I know. Especially tonight. I'm playing your favorite!" He winks and walks into the kitchen.
You drum your fingers on your drink excitedly. Tuesdays are your favorite night at Stormageddon's- It's Marvel night.
Every night at Stormageddon's they play a different fandom channel. You go for there dinner almost every day to watch a different show. Each Tuesday at exactly six o'clock, Alfie plays a different Marvel movie, trying to keep them in order. Tonight's selection- The Avengers.
You watch as the screen on the TV fades to black, then lights up with the main menu of The Avengers. Alfie hits play right away, and a respectful hush falls over the restaurant.
The greatest fun of watching movies and TV shows at Stormageddon's is when all the patrons of the bar shout out the memorable lines of the movies together. They cheer at the exciting parts, cry at the sad parts, and scream at the upsetting parts.
You watch the TV as Agent Coulson is introduced, and the bar cheers. Just as the shouting dies down, the door flies open with a ding of the little bell on the hinge. Everyone turns their attention to the newcomer, a broad shouldered, scruffy man of forty. He's wearing a blue-and-white jersey with a bear head emblazoned on the front. He clambers up to the bar, sits in the only open seat, which is to your right, and looks up at Alfie.
"Whiskey," he grunts. Alfie shrugs and pulls out a glass. There was something... unsettling about this man that caused the entire room's attention to stay on him and not on the evacuating S.H.I.E.L.D. base onscreen. After a minute, and a long chug of his drink, the stranger glances at you, then up at the screen, and says to Alfie, "So... you gonna be playin' the game tonight?"
Alfie, along with the rest of the room, looked confused. "No, sir," Alfie says politely, "As the sign outside says, Game of Thrones is on Sundays."
The bar laughs, and then turns its attention back to the screen just as Loki blasts into the realm. There was a significantly louder cheer for Loki than Coulson.
"I am Loki, Of Asgard," everyone in the room chants louder than the TV, "And I am burdened with glorious purpose!"
"What the hell?" The strange man asks you, appalled.
"You new in town or something?" The man on the other side of him asks. He wears a plaid flannel shirt and ripped jeans, and he's munching away on a slice of cherry pie. "In this bar, and e'ery bar like it, we watch the best of the best fandoms. It's the only way to do it!" He says loudly and raises his glass, earning a cheer and a toast from the room.
"What's a 'fandom'?" He grunts, and the room falls silent.
Alfie leans on the bar and looks the man directly in the eyes. "Listen here, sir: judging from the hideous way you're dressed, you obviously like..." Alfie pauses before scoffing, "Sports. Let me tell you, there ain't one person in this town, or even this county, that likes those awful things. I suggest you get those clothes off, and get out of here, before you get yourself hurt. Because if the fangirls get a hold of you..." He chuckles, "Well, best of luck to you." The bar laughs.
The man stands, obviously offended, and leaves without paying for his drink. As he leaves, the patrons laugh and call out at him.
"Get lost, ya weirdo!" One person shouts.
"Humph. Jocks," another person scoffs.
"Damn, we missed Natasha!" A third person yells, disappointed.
You smile at your glass and think, 'How did he think he could come in here and start watching something as dumb as sports? Hah, the nerd,' You chuckle as you look back up at the screen, and the crowd chants, "And the other guy doesn't have to make a mess of things," alongside Banner.