An evening at Augers Inn [PG13]
Niklas "Hawk" Jonsson
Summary:
A depressed and shell-shocked mutant arrives at Augers Inn in order to recover and get over certain homicidal intentions towards Ororo of the X-men. But another mutant, a small stocky hairy feral cigar-smoking mutant, also arrives at Augers with a black eye and a wild look of revenge in his eyes...
Rating:
I'm not really sure, I'm guessing PG13. It's nothing really bad and there isn't anything really graphic or very descriptive in here, just a few short lines that a sensitive mind might find offensive.
***** Disclaimer *****
You know the drill... Mumble, mumble not mine, mumble mumble belongs to Marvel or White Wolf Game Studio. I'm just borrowing. Try to steal Hawk or anything else that is mine and I'll yank your brain out through your rectum, replace your vocal cords with Fran Dretchers, tear your skin off and then I'll think of something that'll *really* hurt as an encore.
Feedback, questions and corrections accepted at:
hawk@telia.com or ICQ:21771860
Other stories and updates found in Hawk's Galaxy at:
http://hem.passagen.se/hawkgts/
***** Stop reading this shit and move along to the rest *****
*emphasis/shouts*
/thoughts/
*/telepathy/*
~translation~
+soundeffect/radio/telephone conversation/TV+
+BANG+
Everyone in Augers Inn jumped in their seats as the door was thrown open and slammed into the wall with an incredible amount of force. But since the man who entered didn't have any weapons drawn or openly displayed, the patrons all relaxed and started to mind their own business again. Loud entrances weren't an unusual occurence here, the amount of bikers that frequented Augers made sure of that.
People still watched the new arrival out of the corner of their eyes, it was never a good idea to relax too much in this establishment. The newcommer was dressed in dark colors, but his otherwise mysterious appearence was severely ruined by the fact that his clothes were covered with odd stains and wet patches. The fact that the back of his trenchcoat had a sign that said 'Pinch my butt if you love President Whitmore' didn't exactly help either.
But the fact that he stood two meters above the ground, had broad shoulders and a fierce look on his face that boldly declared that anyone who dared to laugh would loose one or more imporant parts of their bodies kept the curious onlookers from snickering. The ones who were more perceptive then their comrades also noticed the tell-tale bulges that revealed that the wild-eyed man was armed to the teeth.
The dark-clad arrival headed straight for the bartender who took one look at him and then reached for a fresh bottle of tequila from the shelves behind the counter.
"Don't bother with a glass." the stranger told the bartender and grabbed the bottle from the surprised bartender, he put the bottle to his mouth and started drinking, gulping down about a quarter of the contents before he removed the bottle. He sighed, shook his head and drained another quarter of the bottle. "Vermin." he snorted and shook his head again. "Bastards." he muttered and then drained the rest of the bottle. "Beer, lots." he told the bartender, tossed the bottle into the stunned bartenders arms and stalked away towards a table against the wall. He swiftly yanked it away from the wall, put the chair with the back against the wall and sat down, putting his feet up onto the table.
"Here y'go." the waitress said when she brought him six bottles of beer on a tray and leaned down to give him a generous look at her cleavage. He absently took a bottle, smiled weakly and murmured something to the waitress who shrugged and sauntered over to another table. Everything was quiet for a minute or so, then the door opened again and everyone inside recoiled in their seats.
The short man who entered now was trouble, even at his best and he *defenetively* wasn't at his best now. His eyes were blazing, his fists were clenched and he emediately focused his glare at the other new arrival. Everyone in the vicinity moved away and settled for watching the fight that was sure to break out. It should be a good one, the short fellow was almost legendary at the inn and the newcommer looked as if he could be interesting opponent in a brawl.
"Ye *hit* me." the shorter man stated as he stopped in front of the table. The younger, taller man merely shrugged and opened a beer that he offered to the stocky little bully.
"X-babies... Chuck E Cheese..." he murmured and took a swig from his own opened bottle. "*Never again*!" he added fiercly. The shorter mans face quickly changed from murderous to outright amused and he even chuckled merrily.
"I wished I could'ave been there!" he exclaimed, took one of the available chairs around the table and then chuckled again.
"No, you don't." said the depressed guy morosely. "X-babies... Chuck *E* Cheese..." he repeated and shook his head. "Do you think Charles would mind very much if I dismantled that blasted place and killed the one who came up with the idea?" he asked and drained the last of his beer bottle, then reached for another one. "Ororo will pay for this. I don't resent the fact that I wound up as babysitter very much, after all, I am the new guy and getting shitty jobs is just about what I'd expect. But sending the unsuspecting Swedish guy to Chuck E Cheese is not what I'd expect from her. If Bobby had been the one to suggest it, I might have been suspicious. But Ororo? Gods, she'll *pay* for this."
"I'd calm down a lil' bit before reamin' her out 'bout this." the small ferocious man suggested.
"What do you think I'm doing here?" the taller man snorted. "I dropped them off at the front door, slugged you in the garage before I hopped into my car and drove here. I figure that by the time the hangover has passed, I'll be calm enough to prevent myself from defenestrating her."
"Wouldn't do ye any good, she'd just fly after ye throw her out."
"I know, I'm just mad, not homocidal."
"That's open fer debate." the small man commented with a wide grin and pulled out a cigar from a pocket in his leather jacket. He lighted it with practised ease and sucked on it a few times, blowing out smoke through his nostrils.
"Be nice." the younger man replied with a weak smile that soon faded. "X-babies... Chuck E Cheese..." he repeated and closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them wide, as if he had seen something behind his closed eyelids that he had no wish to ever see again. "Logan, promise me one thing."
"What?" the stocky man queried suspiciously.
"If it ever seems like someone might press me into service as a babysitter again, gut me."
"Sure thing, bub. Sure thing..."
"Dissapointin' evenin'." Zarah the waitress commented. "I thought fer sure that the lil' tank would'ave mauled the tall fella."
"Any evening that ends with all the furniture intact is a good evening." the bartender commented philosophically.
"Furniture-schmurniture." Zarah replied dismissively. "It's been days since the last really good brawl. If somethin' doesn't happen soon, the police'll send ya a 'get well' card'n ask when we're open fer business again!"
"Go home, Zarah. Get some sleep." the bartender suggested with a tender smile. "You look beat."
"Pinched is more like it!" Zarah exclaimed. "The drunkards inna corner seemed t'find me very pinchable, they were good tippers though." she added with a smile. "But I guess you're right, I haffta get up early tomorrow. It's time for my monthly visit by mom who'll inspect my appartment, complain over the lack of a boyfriend'n nag 'bout my crappy job."
"Have fun."
"Sure thin', g'nite." Zarah replied and sauntered away towards the exit.
"Good night, Zarah." the bartender said and put away the shotglass he had been drying.
Zarah took a deep breath of fresh air as she left Augers Inn and walked away towards the parking lot where her Honda was parked. She liked her job, but the best part of it was when she finally left after a long night waiting on others. She waved her arms around to loosen up and get rid of some stiffness she felt from hauling bottles, glasses and trays around all night.
She never even noticed the dark shadow that followed her and swiftly caught up with her long strides. When a clawed hand reached around from behind and slit her throat, she couldn't even scream from the pain it caused her. All that came out was a low gurgling sound. Something grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. She tried to scream again, but nothing came out as a head swiftly moved past her field of vision and closed in on her exposed throat.
The pain was blocked out by an incredible sensation of relief and pleasure that somehow seemed centered around her neck. She could feel the life being drained out of her, but she didn't care, all that she cared about was that she had never felt as good as she did right now. The last thing she was aware of was a wish that the sensations she felt now would continue forever...
"Recklesss." a voice snarled contemptiously. "Idiot." it added with a low growl.
"I wasss hungry." another one defended itself. "Ssstarving." it added.
"Sssilence." the first one ordered. "We of the Tremere have not spent five deccadesss trying to find Cedric'sss hideout, jussst for you moronsss to ssspoil it all by revealing usss before our forcesss are in place. Cedric isss cautiousss, we must hasssten ssslowly if our plansss are to sssucceed."
"I hear and obey, massster."
"Sssee that you do." the first one added with a threatening voice. "The Tremere can not gain domination if that meddling old fool continues to direct his puppet princes in accordance to his own hideous plans. We'll have to neutralize him, preferably by capturing him alive so we can exploit his kindred network in furtherance of the plans of *our* clan."
"Yesss sssire." the second voice replied and a sharp-eyed watcher might have noticed a slight glimmer from sharp teeth in the night as the two voices and the shapes they belonged to removed themselves from the dead body on the parking lot.
THE END!