Down at the Cock and Plucker, a certain foul-mouthed red squirrel was seen boozing a few glasses of alcohol, before he interrogative the bartender just to leave the whole bottle.
"Lookin' a bit down, what's the matter?" The bartender asked, subsequently setting down the rest of the bottle on the counter.
"Ugh," Conker sighed, "you wouldn't believe it..."
He paused.
"Look, I don't wanna talk about it. I'll just drink this."
It had been what was better-known as a 'bad fur' day. From the cockamamie adventure, to the death of his beloved girlfriend Berri, Conker had ended up king of all the land in just the same day. He had all the riches in the world, servants, and even a marvellous castle, but despite it all Conker didn't necessary want any of it. If only he could go back to his sweet dwelling with Berri and have a bottle of beer or two...of course he will never be able to materialize this.
Finishing up the last few drops of the alcoholic beverage, Conker hopped down from where he had his hindquarters on the velvet cloth covering chair. Instantly intoxicated now, he hobbled towards the washrooms.
Alas, standing in front of the washroom mirror he placed the pads of his paws on his face and let out a small groan, "out of all the guys in this world, and I'm the one ta' get fucked over."
Slowly, he abstracted his paws off his face, taking a long look into the mirror at himself. How revolting it was to have seen himself in awhile. Conker couldn't even recognize himself anymore. Those dark, droopy bags beneath his eyes from lack of sleep and ruffled up fur with the dreaded smell of alcohol that was ingrained into it. He was once a happy-go-lucky squirrel only to turn into what was known as the despicable alcoholic.
Suspiration occured while he took hesitant breaths, "I cannot bare this much longer," he trailed, "for all I am is just for concupiscent, alcohol and cash prizes." He continued soliloquy, noticing a revolver above the sink cabinets. Then it hit him.
"Yeah. That'll do," with a smirk, he took the gun between his paws and swung it towards his head.
"Ah...Revolver, revolver how fascinating for you to be here at the perfect time."
His finger was between the trigger, pulling back on it a bit not wanting to rethink his decision of self-annihilation. Trying to live in a world without Berri surely felt like a mistake. Much as Conker didn't want to go back, he decided it'd be okay to do this.
"I want ta' be where you are..."
Within a blink of an eye sudden flashbacks of memories flickered through his mind of his childhood till now. Tears ended up rolling down the dreadful squirrel's cheeks, as he stood blankly in front of the mirror.
"What am I doing?" he asked himself, setting the revolver back above the cabinet. His emotions were so strained like as if they've ran out of thread.
"I...I remember everything," Conker thought to himself, "Timber's island."
Timber's island, the island where Conker grew up. Known for it's name, this island is ruled by his old childhood friend Timber as his parents left him in charge. A peaceful island it was, beautiful landscapes, mountains and architecture all surrounded by a glamarous lake. The climate was never to hot nor to cold, unadulterated for all.
The squirrel shoke his head, getting ahold of himself. "No, I ain't going back there, as I said before you wouldn't catch me hanging around with those freaks today," he thought quite coldly.