"We are," Anton reassured them, taking a nervous step backwards.
"Don't you trust us Anton?"
"I just want to see your ID's, that's all," Anton replied sensibly. "Then I'll know you guys are telling the truth and you can get back to your beers."
"And if we aren't telling the truth?" Alex asked idiotically.
"Then I'll kick you out."
"You'd do that to your friends?"
"YES!" Anton shrieked getting tired of their annoying drunken voices.
"But we're buds man!"
"No, we friggin well aren't! Don't you think I talk to a lot of people in my line of work? I'm just a friendly guy," Anton explained, losing his cool.
"Not from where I'm standing you aren't," Alex scoffed.
"ID now please. Or you're both out of here," Anton warned, trying to sound like some kind of authority figure.
"We haven't got any," Tod said in a matter of fact kind of way. He smirked to himself, suddenly realising what kind of scheme he could get into.
"Okay, name, age and address now please," Anton demanded, suddenly sounding a lot less friendly.
"With pleasure," Tod replied smarmily. He glanced across at Alex, who stared at him as if he was wondering what the hell Tod was doing. "Carter Horton, age seventeen, 46 Letsbee Avenue."
"Stop jerking me around kid."
"I'm not. That's my address, really. I live there with my Mum, Kate Horton and my Dad, David. Ask anyone."
Anton had to admit he sounded convincing. Eventually after an uncertain silence he scribbled down the info on a piece of scrap paper. Then he looked up at Alex.
"Now, you, Cletus, where's this apartment of yours? What about a telephone number? Maybe I could call this 'Brandine' or whatever she's called."
"Brandine's taking calls around this time of night. She runs this samaritan's service, right? She's busy," Alex lied through his teeth. "So, you can't do that."
"I can do whatever I bloody well like while you're in my pub!" Anton shouted, feeling tired and annoyed.
"Okay, okay, take a chill pill," Alex remarked unwisely. Anton suddenly lunged forward and grabbed him by the neck of his Tee-shirt.
"Listen punk, I know you ain't called Cletus. I know, you don't have no kids. And believe me, I know, there's no such person as Brandine."
"You know a lot," Alex said pathetically.
"Yeah, I do. I know you're some scrawny kid trying to trick me into serving you. So give me your real name, age and address right this minute, or I'll pick you up, throw you across this bar, smash bottles on your head and kick your ass so bad, you'll be in hospital for a month!!!!"
"Eeek," Alex squealed, trying to free himself from Anton's grasp. "Okay, okay. I'm Billy Hitchcock. I'm also seventeen, I go to Mt Abraham High School, and I live at-."
"ALEX!!!??" A shocked voice shrieked suddenly from behind him. Alex and Tod spun round.
"TOD?!!"
It was Barbara Browning and Linda Waggner. And they looked ready to issue a death sentence.
"M-Mom?" Alex and Tod stuttered pathetically, realising their lives were over.
"What the hell is going on here?!" Barbara demanded. Anton gave a satisfactory smirk and released his grip on Alex's Tee-Shirt.
"I was just about to ask you the same question," Anton said smugly, folding his arms. Tod and Alex however, looked as white as sheets.
"We were......We were........I mean......Kinda.....If you put it one way we er.......RUNNNNNN!!!!!!!!" Alex yelled at the top of his voice. He grabbed Tod and the two of them made for the back exit of the bar.
"Stop them! Stop those little buggers!" Anton called to nobody in particular. Linda and Barbara could only watch in shock as Alex and Tod disappeared out of the fire exit. Eventually, Linda Waggner turned to Anton, glaring. She folded her arms tightly.
"Would you mind telling us what the hell is going on?" She demanded.
"Are they your sons ladies?"
"Yes they are our bloody sons! We want to know what they're doing here God dammit!"
"They were trying to get a drink," Anton explained in a matter of fact kind of way.
"And?" Linda prompted. "Did you give them one?"
"Yeah. See, I thought-."
"They're only seventeen you blithering idiot!" Linda cried, obviously the one in charge of the situation. "What were you thinking? Are you out of your mind?"
"The blonde kid. He spun me a load of crap about him being called Cletus and working in a potato factory," Anton replied, desperately trying to defend his case. "It wasn't my fault!"
"My boy comes into your bar, you serve him without even asking for any ID, and it wasn't your fault?" Barbara Browning scoffed angrily. "You're a bloody disgrace!"
"Listen lady, I'm just trying to earn a living here. When I asked them for their ID they gave me false addresses!"
"Awwwwww, poor you," Linda mocked.
"Those kids aren't allowed back in my bar again! You hear me? EVER! Not even when they are over twenty one! They're barred!" Anton roared, using wild hand gestures. "And so are you!" He added in the spur of the moment. "You, and all your family!"
"But me and my husband like to drink here!" Linda protested.
"Well I guess you'll just have to find another bar to get drunk in then, won't you?"
"This isn't fair! I know my rights!" Linda snapped back.
"Tell it to the courts lady. Just get out of my bar!" Anton pointed towards the door, leaving Barbara and Linda no choice but to leave.
The phone rang later that night at the Horton's house.
"Hello?" Kate Horton said as she put the receiver to her ear. "Yes, this is Kate Horton speaking..................What?.....No, no, my son has not been out this evening. NO!................Don't you dare call me a liar!.....Who the hell is this?..........Anton?........No, I was not in your bar earlier today!........You can't speak to me like that!!..........Get lost!....I told you, Carter's been in the house all night! You can't just call me up and tell me he was illegally buying alcohol in your pub! No!.......I'm sorry, I don't know what the hell you're talking about. Goodbye!"
Kate slammed the phone down.
"Who the hell was that?" David Horton asked as he wandered into the hall.
"Some barman trying to get our little sugarlump into more trouble."
"Kate, I really wish you'd stop calling our son 'sugarlump'. He's seventeen years old!" David replied.
"Yes I know. In fact, I'm sick of being told by everyone that our son is seventeen. What about his sodding birthday? 'Oooooh, he's seventeen!' everybody kept saying. 'Ooooh, fancy that! Seventeen!' Well I've had just about enough of all this 'he's seventeen' crap. I know how old my bloody son is! I don't need people to keep reminding me that our precious bloody son is 'seventeen'," Kate ranted huffily.
"Come on Kate, don't be all moody-."
"Oh, I'm not being moody David. After all, Carter is 'seventeen'. He can speak for himself now can't he? He didn't really need me to defend his case like that over the phone did he?!"
By now Kate was raising her voice.
"All right, all right, Calm down, calm down," her husband soothed. He threw back his head and hollered at the top of his voice. "CARTER!!! Get your lazy, bone idle, no good ass in here now!"
Carter appeared in the doorway, stretching and yawning.
"Aw, what now Dad?" he asked. "I'm missing Postman Pat."
"Were you at Anton's tonight?"
"What?"
"Were you at sodding Anton's bloody bar tonight!!!???"
"What? No! No! I've given up alcohol Dad! I swore never to drink again after I woke up in a junior campers uniform on Tuesday! You know that!" Carter shuddered at the thought. "Ugh...Junior Campers," he repeated. "Saying it makes me feel so dirty."
"I know Carty," Kate told him. "But according to Anton, you were there this evening with your friend Billy. That makes sense to us. Billy's in your English class, right?"
"No, no, no, no, no!!! Billy's in my French class! And he's a dork! I wouldn't be seen dead with him!" Carter sighed in desparation. "Mom, Dad, you gotta believe me! I was here the whole time!! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease believe me!!!"
By now Carter was down on his knees infront of his parents, practically begging for them to take him seriously. "I know I haven't been a good son sometimes! And I'm sooooooooo sorry! I know it was wrong to steal your credit card to get a new set of wheels! Hell, I knew I was wrong when I knocked you out with a lampshade and ran off with your stereo for a set of fluffy dice! I even knew I was wrong when I came home at midnight, robbed our own house, hit myself over the head a couple of times with a sledgehammer, then drove all the way to California to dump all the stuff and when the cops came round I made out the burglars had beaten me up and threatened me and I said I'd tried to save our stuff but they wouldn't listen and then you believed me and bought me an icecream and........Well, it goes on like that," Carter explained without drawing a breath. "But the point is, I know right from wrong now Dad!! And I would never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, do anything to hurt you!"
Carter got up off his knees and trod on his dad's toe by mistake.
"Owwwwwwwww!" David cried out in pain.
"Starting from now," Carter corrected himself. Kate looked at her son, wondering what to do.
"Well, Carter, honey, sweetie, baby, darling, sugarlump.......I believe you."
A glimmer of hope appeared in Carter's eye.
"You do?"
"I suppose so. This Anton obviously got the wrong guy," his Mum explained.
"Well d'uh?"
"But how the hell could he have got hold of your name and telephone number like that?" David asked, interrupting them.
Carter's face suddenly darkened. "There's only one person malicious enough to frame me," he hissed. "Alex Browning."
"Oh, that aggressive little sod?" David questioned. They're a bit screwed up this family aren't they? Labelling Alex as an 'aggressive little sod' where as in their opinion Carter is a sweet perfect angel? Jesus Christ Kate and David, see your son for what he really is!!!!! Mind you, I don't know why I'm writing this. After all, I made them into these characters so technically it's my fault. Oh well.........
"That's the one," Carter agreed. "He's always bullying me at school. I wouldn't be surprised if he set me up like this."
"He's the one that jumped out that car and started on you, right honey?" Kate asked.
"Right," Carter replied in an over the top voice. "I think it's time we settled the score, don't you Mother?"
"Yes son, the only way I know how."