Disclaimer: Is it just me, or are all of you sick of reading these little disclaimer thingies? Anyway, Gundam Wing is copyright of the people who created Gundam Wing (no chit sherlock!). Oh yeah, did you think that we died? NO, WE ARE ALIVE, DAMN YOU! A L I V E !!! *both of them get dragged away by the people in white suits*
Episode 52: A fool and His Hair are Soon Parted- New Beginnings Arise
A Fic by Zoe and Becki
::Zoe::
I hate cops. Hate them, Hate Them, HATE THEM! But then again, who could really blame me? I mean, come on, I work in a bar for crying out loud! I have to deal with their fat, donut-choking butts just about every week! Of course, New Years' Eve was no different. Allow me to explain what happened. I think you will find it both interesting, and quite amusing.
"YOU LEAVE MY WOMAN ALONE!" The priest said, leaning his arm against my shoulder (probably to prop himself up). I looked at him as if he were crazy.
"What did you say?" The man bellowed, motioning his whole motley crew over. They staggered over, carrying bottles and chairs.
"What? Can't ya fight on your own you old coot?!" The priest laughed, grabbing his empty Budweiser bottle.
"OLD COOT?!!"
"You gonna get it now!" One of the man's flunkies said.
Emmie stayed hidden under the bar, holding a small table for protection.
"BAR FIGHT!" One of them yelled, smashing the full bottle on one of the tables as the crowd began to riot.
Emmie whimpered from behind the bar, grabbing a chair and setting the table down, building some kind of fort of protection.
I just stood there, still in shock from the priest- he had to be some kind of imposter or something. There was nothing religious about him.
"Hey Bitch! Heads up!" One of the drunks yelled, followed by the sound of breaking glass. I turned around, seeing a man about a head's height taller than myself- did I mention that I'm kinda short? - coming at me with a broken Bud Lite bottle. Another one came behind me and jumped on my back. Before I started to panic, I grabbed the upper part of his arms and flipped him over on his back. He landed on his arm, so I figured that he broke it. I did not really have any time to care. Luckily, he knocked into the other guy with the bottle, knocking him down as well.
Its surprising that people that are so drunk actually had a strategy. Another one came from behind me and wrapped one arm around my stomach, the other hand formed into a fist. I remembered from my martial arts classes that one of the best pressure points is right in the middle of the chest, right where the ribcage starts. Apparently, he knew this as well. I closed my eyes tight, expecting his fist to come at any time. But it didn't. Then, like a herald from heaven; "I SAID GET AWAY FROM MY WOMAN!" Well, maybe a bat out of hell, I don't know... The priest punched him, knocking the hentai off of me (he had... er... wandering hands...).
One of them jumped on top of him, mounting him from the back. It was sad. The man was actually smiling and enjoying himself. Surprisingly, it was the same one who mounted me. Hey, didn't I break his arm?
"WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM?! A GOD DAMN HORSE?!" The priest yelled, whipping the drunken bum from his back with a sickening thud.
I had had just about enough. It was time to find some kind of weaponry and kick some drunken ass. I rarely get mad, but let's just say that my eyes were bloodshot red by about that time.
I spied a fire extinguisher over in the corner... a big one. I briskly walked over there, picking my way through babbling drunks on the floor. I grabbed it, taking the nozzle into my hand and, at the top of my lungs, screamed, "NO FIGHTING IN MY BAR!!" And sprayed aimlessly. They scattered like roaches toward the exit, none of them left after that.
Did I ever tell you that I hate cleaning up puke, too? Well I do, and I had a fair share to clean up (most of it being mixed with glass and blood). Emmie peeked from her little fort.
"Is it over with?"
"Yes, its over Emmie." I told her, getting out a mop from the back room.
She stood and began to leave.
"HEY!"
Emmie looked back and said, "I think I've had enough trauma for one night, thank you very much!"
"TRAUMA?! YOU HID THE WHOLE TIME!" But by that time, she was out the door. So ended our friendship.
As I started mopping up, I remembered something. I didn't see the priest, or the guy who mounted him, leave. A scary thought crossed my mind as I surpassed a shiver. Didn't I see them head for the bathroom. Another shiver. I suddenly had a sour taste in my mouth (Authors' Note: If anyone catches the joke, you get a FREE super dooper extra special brownie point, right from the oven... No wait... Did Zoe bake these? Wahh... Run away!) "Oh god." I choked, trying to muster the courage to go into there. What was or had gone on in there, I did not want to know. Taking my mop- which was full of god knows what- I walked toward the bathroom. I kicked the door open, my head turned the opposite way. "OKAY, GET YOUR FUNKY FRUITY ASS OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW YOU LITTLE PERVERT!" I yelled, but got no response. "I'M SERIOUS! I HAVE A MOP FULL OF... STUFF, AND I WILL DEFEND MYSELF!" Then came the incomprehensible babbling. I turned my head to look what was in the bathroom. The priest was passed out on the floor, his braid half hanging out of the toilet with, again, god knows what in it. His hair was cut off very poorly with what looked to be those little kindergarten scissors. I tried my best not to laugh.
I would have poked him with the mop to see if he was alive, but, like I said, I have no idea what was in it. I dropped it in the sink and, since I have a kind heart (*cough*), I dragged him out by what hair he had left. By the time I had him near the door, the police were banging to get in.
"Oh shit." I mouthed, trying to pick him up. For someone so skinny, he was heavy! I knew I wouldn't be able to get him back. So, gathering up my strength...
He hit the wall of the bathroom by the time that they came in. And in case you're wondering what I did, I just kinda... what's the word? Slid! I slid him into the bathroom... from the middle of the bar floor... It was actually kinda cool. Anyway, the police came in and saw what was left of all the puke and foam on the floor. Then they looked at me. All I could think of doing was flashing my infamous Cheesy Smile.
Needless to say, they didn't buy it. "What is going on here?" They asked- stupid question, no?
"Uh... A fight..." Stupid answer, Zoe!
"Well, why didn't you call it in?" He paused, "And why is there fire extinguisher foam all over?!"
"Well..." I began, thinking of what to say. "I... uh, I kinda slipped into it, and it... um, it went off. I guess that we should check them more often, huh?" Again with the smile.
"You should have called. We can not ignore this." I grimaced as he paused. Then he spoke again, "But, if you throw in a couple brewskis..."
I looked at him oddly, then without hesitation, "Sure!" Yes! You can rely on that one thing: Bribery!
They left after I gave them a few bottles. Then I walked back to the bathroom.
Episode 52: A fool and His Hair are Soon Parted- New Beginnings Arise
A Fic by Zoe and Becki
::Zoe::
I hate cops. Hate them, Hate Them, HATE THEM! But then again, who could really blame me? I mean, come on, I work in a bar for crying out loud! I have to deal with their fat, donut-choking butts just about every week! Of course, New Years' Eve was no different. Allow me to explain what happened. I think you will find it both interesting, and quite amusing.
"YOU LEAVE MY WOMAN ALONE!" The priest said, leaning his arm against my shoulder (probably to prop himself up). I looked at him as if he were crazy.
"What did you say?" The man bellowed, motioning his whole motley crew over. They staggered over, carrying bottles and chairs.
"What? Can't ya fight on your own you old coot?!" The priest laughed, grabbing his empty Budweiser bottle.
"OLD COOT?!!"
"You gonna get it now!" One of the man's flunkies said.
Emmie stayed hidden under the bar, holding a small table for protection.
"BAR FIGHT!" One of them yelled, smashing the full bottle on one of the tables as the crowd began to riot.
Emmie whimpered from behind the bar, grabbing a chair and setting the table down, building some kind of fort of protection.
I just stood there, still in shock from the priest- he had to be some kind of imposter or something. There was nothing religious about him.
"Hey Bitch! Heads up!" One of the drunks yelled, followed by the sound of breaking glass. I turned around, seeing a man about a head's height taller than myself- did I mention that I'm kinda short? - coming at me with a broken Bud Lite bottle. Another one came behind me and jumped on my back. Before I started to panic, I grabbed the upper part of his arms and flipped him over on his back. He landed on his arm, so I figured that he broke it. I did not really have any time to care. Luckily, he knocked into the other guy with the bottle, knocking him down as well.
Its surprising that people that are so drunk actually had a strategy. Another one came from behind me and wrapped one arm around my stomach, the other hand formed into a fist. I remembered from my martial arts classes that one of the best pressure points is right in the middle of the chest, right where the ribcage starts. Apparently, he knew this as well. I closed my eyes tight, expecting his fist to come at any time. But it didn't. Then, like a herald from heaven; "I SAID GET AWAY FROM MY WOMAN!" Well, maybe a bat out of hell, I don't know... The priest punched him, knocking the hentai off of me (he had... er... wandering hands...).
One of them jumped on top of him, mounting him from the back. It was sad. The man was actually smiling and enjoying himself. Surprisingly, it was the same one who mounted me. Hey, didn't I break his arm?
"WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM?! A GOD DAMN HORSE?!" The priest yelled, whipping the drunken bum from his back with a sickening thud.
I had had just about enough. It was time to find some kind of weaponry and kick some drunken ass. I rarely get mad, but let's just say that my eyes were bloodshot red by about that time.
I spied a fire extinguisher over in the corner... a big one. I briskly walked over there, picking my way through babbling drunks on the floor. I grabbed it, taking the nozzle into my hand and, at the top of my lungs, screamed, "NO FIGHTING IN MY BAR!!" And sprayed aimlessly. They scattered like roaches toward the exit, none of them left after that.
Did I ever tell you that I hate cleaning up puke, too? Well I do, and I had a fair share to clean up (most of it being mixed with glass and blood). Emmie peeked from her little fort.
"Is it over with?"
"Yes, its over Emmie." I told her, getting out a mop from the back room.
She stood and began to leave.
"HEY!"
Emmie looked back and said, "I think I've had enough trauma for one night, thank you very much!"
"TRAUMA?! YOU HID THE WHOLE TIME!" But by that time, she was out the door. So ended our friendship.
As I started mopping up, I remembered something. I didn't see the priest, or the guy who mounted him, leave. A scary thought crossed my mind as I surpassed a shiver. Didn't I see them head for the bathroom. Another shiver. I suddenly had a sour taste in my mouth (Authors' Note: If anyone catches the joke, you get a FREE super dooper extra special brownie point, right from the oven... No wait... Did Zoe bake these? Wahh... Run away!) "Oh god." I choked, trying to muster the courage to go into there. What was or had gone on in there, I did not want to know. Taking my mop- which was full of god knows what- I walked toward the bathroom. I kicked the door open, my head turned the opposite way. "OKAY, GET YOUR FUNKY FRUITY ASS OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW YOU LITTLE PERVERT!" I yelled, but got no response. "I'M SERIOUS! I HAVE A MOP FULL OF... STUFF, AND I WILL DEFEND MYSELF!" Then came the incomprehensible babbling. I turned my head to look what was in the bathroom. The priest was passed out on the floor, his braid half hanging out of the toilet with, again, god knows what in it. His hair was cut off very poorly with what looked to be those little kindergarten scissors. I tried my best not to laugh.
I would have poked him with the mop to see if he was alive, but, like I said, I have no idea what was in it. I dropped it in the sink and, since I have a kind heart (*cough*), I dragged him out by what hair he had left. By the time I had him near the door, the police were banging to get in.
"Oh shit." I mouthed, trying to pick him up. For someone so skinny, he was heavy! I knew I wouldn't be able to get him back. So, gathering up my strength...
He hit the wall of the bathroom by the time that they came in. And in case you're wondering what I did, I just kinda... what's the word? Slid! I slid him into the bathroom... from the middle of the bar floor... It was actually kinda cool. Anyway, the police came in and saw what was left of all the puke and foam on the floor. Then they looked at me. All I could think of doing was flashing my infamous Cheesy Smile.
Needless to say, they didn't buy it. "What is going on here?" They asked- stupid question, no?
"Uh... A fight..." Stupid answer, Zoe!
"Well, why didn't you call it in?" He paused, "And why is there fire extinguisher foam all over?!"
"Well..." I began, thinking of what to say. "I... uh, I kinda slipped into it, and it... um, it went off. I guess that we should check them more often, huh?" Again with the smile.
"You should have called. We can not ignore this." I grimaced as he paused. Then he spoke again, "But, if you throw in a couple brewskis..."
I looked at him oddly, then without hesitation, "Sure!" Yes! You can rely on that one thing: Bribery!
They left after I gave them a few bottles. Then I walked back to the bathroom.