The tavern was fairly quiet. Only two or three people were present aside from Nitrus Brio himself, the man in question using his prized test tubes to measure out the perfect gin to tonic ratio. The former lab partner of Neo Cortex hummed along to the classical music emanating softly from the jukebox in the corner. This was how the alchemical genius liked it - a nice, quiet atmosphere for an evening of tending bar.
The moonlight that filtered through the tavern's entrance, glinting off the metal bolts on either side of Brio's oval-shaped bald head, was suddenly blocked out as a figure stepped up to the saloon-esque gates, casting a tall shadow across the floor of wooden planks. The figure pushed her way past the gates and started to stride slowly and deliberately across the tavern. The other patrons turned to stare at this newcomer as she made her way towards the bar, her pale features contrasted by her dark hair, which was short and spiky, and her black make-up. She wore a red tie over a dark trench coat, her skirt short and somewhat macabre-looking. Gothic combat boots adorned her feet, but it was her hands that really stood out.
Synthetic appendages of stainless steel, curled into metallic fists of deepest, darkest black.
The gothic teenage girl stepped up to the bar, Brio making note of the metallic lowercase 'n' in the middle of her forehead.
"Diet soda," the girl said curtly. "On the rocks."
Brio said nothing at first, only working the taps on the drink kegs to prepare this curiously sinister patron's requested order. As he served her the drink, he finally addressed her directly. "So, to what do I owe the p-p-pleasure, Nina Cortex?" the man in the green jumpsuit enquired casually, showing no sign of being intimidated despite of his usual stutter.
"The pleasure's all mine, N. Brio," Nina stated so very calmly, her tone all but devoid of emotion. "How's business?"
"Good enough."
Silence fell for a long moment after that, Nina taking a long sip of her drink while Brio wiped the inside of another test tube with a (mostly) clean cloth. One of the other patrons, a young man only a few years older than Nina, came over and sat down beside her. His posture and the look on his face made it clear that he was quite intoxicated.
"Hey, tall, dark and good-looking," he slurred. "I lost my - hic - I lost my phone number. Wanna give me - hic - yours?"
Nina turned to him, giving a smile as cold as the grave. "Why mince words through calls and texts? Let's just sit here and hold hands for a bit and maybe something will happen."
The young man smiled cluelessly, holding out his hand. Nina took it gently, but her touch didn't remain gentle for long. The drunken teen's eyes widened in horror, his mouth opening in a soundless scream of absolute anguish. Brio could actually hear the snap and crackle of breaking bones, but he neither said nor did anything to stop what was going on. If someone was stupid enough to get on the wrong side of Nina Cortex, it was their own fault.
The young man slid off his barstool and collapsed onto the floor as Nina released him, having momentarily passed out from the pain. His right hand looked positively mangled, fingers severely disjointed and dislocated. Nina finished her drink and then proceeded to tip the ice cubes at the bottom of the glass onto the boy's injured hand. He instantly came to his senses and let out an ear-splitting screech as the cold and weight of the ice respectively stung and battered his already delicate fingers. He suddenly leapt up and ran for it, turning to glance back at Nina from the bar entrance. She blew him a kiss with one hand and raised a metallic middle finger with the other. The boy just whimpered and hurried away, disappearing into the night.
"You r-really have a way with people," Brio said nonchalantly, raising one of his bushy eyebrows knowingly.
"I have my way with people," Nina corrected him, looking at her fingers casually. She lazily flexed them, producing a sound not unlike that of bedsprings creaking softly. "So, what do I owe you?"
"Oh, n-not much. Just give your uncle a good b-b-boot up the rear from me," Brio declared, starting to laugh maniacally. Nina laughed as well; a cold, sadistic laugh. The kind of laugh a killer might utter before delivering the finishing strike.
The jukebox suddenly let out a loud noise that sounded like a record being scratched. When it settled, it started playing N. Brio's theme music, causing the remaining patrons other than Nina to glance up, looking a little surprised at the sudden change in atmosphere.
"This song again?" Nina asked aloud. "Don't any of these bars have good music?"
Brio scoffed. "I invented good music!" he insisted. "I invented the very concept of good music, for I was in-"
"Don't say it."
"-The first GAAAAAME!"
"Oy vey," Nina declared, rolling her eyes. "I think the fumes of whatever you use to clean those test tubes have gone to your head."
"Who says I actually clean these things?" Brio jeered before quickly clasping a hand over his own mouth. Too late. The other patrons looked at their drinking glasses apprehensively, set them down on the tables and made their exits quickly and quietly. Nina snickered, sounding like a pig snorting. Brio glared at her.
"See you in the evil funny pages," Nina said with a flair of malicious mischief as she got up and walked out, cackling.
"You…! You won't get away with this!" Brio spluttered. "This isn't the end! I invented endings! Oh, w-why won't anyone take me seriously…?"
Brio then noticed another figure walking past the tavern's entrance, casting another familiar shadow on the scene. There was no mistaking that shadow.
Crash Bandicoot spun on the spot, just enjoying the night air as he walked along.
He had no idea that N. Brio was watching him, a mad look in the man's eye.
He had no idea that Brio was about to take out his frustrations at Nina on the bandicoot boy.
N. Brio rummaged through the cupboards under the bar, pulled out a vial of green serum and downed it in one gulp.
"RRROAWRRR!"
THUD, THUD, THUD, THUD, THUD, THUD…
"Whoa!" Crash exclaimed as the hulking form of Brio's mutated state burst out of the tavern, having smashed through the wall to get at the spin-happy hero. Crash turned and ran, Brio rampaging along a short distance behind.
Nearby, Nina leant against the wall of another building, chuckling.
"So easy to create a stir," she mused, closing her eyes and shaking her head in satisfied amusement. "That'll teach them not to invite me into the N. Sane Trilogy."
I told you these were going to get weird. Well, I guess this one wasn't so much weird as it was just plain nuts.
I hope the sudden shift in this chapter's tone didn't put anyone off. I like my stories to be somewhat unpredictable, even if that means sacrificing plot for the sake of sheer entertainment. And what could be more absurdly entertaining than N. Brio tending bar, as alluded to in the 'true' ending of Crash 1?
Stay tuned for more wacky one-shots!