Bars are loud, noisy, and always smelled of sweat, booze, and cigarette smoke, be it stale or new.
Still, this bar was home to the two brothers, simply known as the Walters bro's. Everyday they would come in around four in the afternoon and stay until three in the morning. They would just come in, sit down on the two barstools in front of the bartender and order the same thing everyday, Coors light. They would just sit there, watch some TV order somewhere between ten and twenty Coors light beers and then go home. Nobody ever bothered them, and if anyone would try to strike up a conversation with them, they'd be lucky if they get a grunt out of one of them.
One of the brother's, James Walters, had fiery messy hair and brown eyes, his teeth were a little crooked and some even big, but besides that he looked like an average Joe. He was Average male height, around 5"9, with a round beer belly that seemed to stick out.
The youngest brother was Matthew Walters, he also had bright red hair, slightly messy as well, and green eyes, his teeth weren't as crooked as his brother's but they weren't the greatest teeth in the world. He was a little shorter than James, maybe by a inch or two, also unlike his brother, he didn't have the beer gut, which was kind of surprising.
One day-er-night they were doing just that, sitting there, watching TV drinking their beer. It was some news channel from upstate New York. It had something to do with that Peabody fellow and some little brat. Apparently, they somehow caused the past to return to the present, that and that dog bit some lady and was now being arrested for it, probably getting put down. Then, 'the little brat' came on the screen, Matthew Walters almost spit out his drink when he saw him. According the caption under the kid, his name was Sherman.
"He looks an awful lot like you, James." Matthew told his brother, who in turn just grunted and sipped his drink.
"Yeah? He does, doesn't he?" James mumbled, his voice slightly slurred.
"I heard that dog is some sort of multi-millionaire. I bet he'd pay anything to get that kid back, I mean if he bit a lady because of that kid, then I'm sure he'll pay whatever for the little brat." Matthew said, a slight quirk in his voice. James put his beer down and looked at his brother.
"Are you suggesting that we kidnap a kid?" James asked, eyebrow raised up in suspicion.
"Why not? We've done worse, remember your wife?" Matthew shrugged, nursing his beer. There was a silence, James leaned back in his chair and laughed, a hearty laugh, a laugh that he has never laughed before in that bar, a laugh that made everyone just stop and look at the man.
"I think. I think you may be on to something, little brother." James said once he finished his laugh.
"You know, I heard that kid, what's his name..." Matthew paused for a moment, snapping his fingers, trying to remember the kid's name. "Shirley? Sam? Sherman?...Sherman! that's it!" he said and then continued on. "I heard Sherman makes a lot of mistakes, like, big ones. If I were that dog, I'd be wanting a kid like that outta my life. So, why don't you go in and pretend to be the boy's real dad? Tell him you want your son back." Matthew said leaning into his brother's face, a malicious smirk on his own face.
"What if he says no?"
"Then, we take the kid. Ask for ransom money, and get this, never return the kid, fake the brat's death. In the end, we keep the dough."
James sipped his beer, and then licked his lips, enjoying the taste.
"Why fake the kid's death? Why not just kill him?" James asked resting his head on his hand, growing bored of this conversation.
"One. I don't kill, you know that. Two, why not give that dog a scare? We drop the kid in the middle of the woods somewhere, He'll reach that dog sometime, plus, by that time, we'll be in Mexico. This plan is fool proof! What's the worse that could happen?"
"I don't know...We get caught? or The kid finds away to escape and call for help?" James growled as he sipped his beer once again. He, James, put his beer down on the wooden bar and looked up at the TV screen. Sherman was long gone now, but the newscaster was still reporting on what had happened.
"You know...I know someone in the police station..." Matthew told James, breaking the silence between them.
"Oh? I figured the last person you'd want to be buddies, buddies, with would be a pig." James grumbled, not looking away from the TV screen.
"Yeah, well, He goes by the name of Joel Kirkland, some loser with no friends or family...You know...I could take his identity..."
The moment that left Matthew's mouth, James looked away from the TV screen and looked at his brother.
"Continue."
"I looked at Joel many times, him and I? look enough alike, all I would have to do is make sure Joel doesn't escape and just dye my hair blonde. I mean, I told you, this guy is a loser, no friends, no family, nobody will notice the difference, I'm tellin' you." Matthew mumbled to his brother, sipping his beer.
"...You really want to do this?" James asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Of course I do. I mean think how much money we could get?"
"What if the dog does just give us this kid?"
Matthew snorted slightly.
"That dog, bit a woman just so he could keep the brat. I doubt he'll just willingly give us a kid. He's gonna want some proof though." Matthew told his brother with a sick smile. Matthew finished off his drink, threw the bottle in the trash can then said, "Trust me on this, with the right planning, we'll be swimming in cash. We just gotta take this one baby step at a time."