At the conner of Main and Apple street was a bar. It wasn't the type you would go and take your date to, matter of fact it reminded a few of the bar patrons of Moe's Tavern. No fancy drinks--just straight beer, there was unknown stains on the bar stools, the two female tenders who worked at the bar where good on the eyes but also suffer from permeant PMS, and the stink of vomit mixed with cigarettes lurked in the air. However, for some ungodly reason they would keep on going. Perhaps the fact they didn't give a damn about the shack-like appearances and the warm booze that was serve.
Oh, your might be wondering who would go to this bar? Well, if read the sign hanging outside of it then maybe you get the gist of it.
BASTARD FATHER BAR: You Should Of Kept Your Pants On
The owners seems to have a good sense of humor. However, most of these "fatherly" types where from RPG games. It's still unknown how they got there, since most of where dead, missing in action, or some other stupid reason they would come up with. The Tenders never complained since they still got paid.
Now let's enter this bar, and meet the cast. Oh, if I where you I would watch where you step. Ya know, just in case. When you first walk into the bar (and hopefully, not pass out from the smell) you see an odd fellow clad in black in one of the booths crying away in his beer. You feel the urge to whack him upside of head with a well place lead pipe by the door, but you fight back the urge. As you walk away from the man he suddenly cry out.
"NOOOOOOOOO! PADME!"
He then returns to his weeping after the outburst. Looking back at the crying man you start to wonder if you go back, get the lead pipe and put the poor fool out of his misery or call a the shirk.
"Don't mind him, he's been going at this for the past few weeks. I swear he never leaves the bar. Matter of fact, we don't even know his name!"
Midway in your inner debate you where interrupted from what seems to be a blonde hair man dressed like a cowboy. Tacky belt buckle and cowboy-like hat included. He would motion you to come and sit down next to him on the stained bar stool while drinking his booze. In fear for you life thinking you will contract an undiscovered illness, you dragged over an almost clean looking stool and planted yourself next to him.
"So, what's a kid like you doing in this shack?" He would question you. You calmly explain that you where being chased after an angry army of gnomes are you stole the scared treasure of golden acorns so you dashed in here to avoid certain death. This only lead to awkward monument of silence.
"You only came in because of the name. That's what they all come in for. Most of the time we just shoot them, like now." After saying those word he would take the weird gun and pointed it at your forehead. At this point of time your freak out level is pretty high. When you thought you finally met a normal person at this bar he then goes and blow your brains out. The temptation of kicking him in the 'family jewels' slowly wane away when return the gun back to the holster and let out a goofy smile.
"Just kidding!" You still kicked him in the balls anyway. So, five hours and an ice pack later, he was just fine! Well, we still don't know if you caused internal damage to him. It really didn't matter, once he recovered you two where back to chatting and drinking (since it's unknown if your underage or not, your stuck with a glass of dirty looking water).
"I never really go the chance to tell you my name. The name is Ringo, i'm a Immortal Hunter. Ya know, go out a shoot vampires, stuff them into a coffin, and fry 'em up! Well, back in the day really. My son, Django, does that part now. The other one, Sabata pops up when the other is about to get killed. Kinda like the whole Racer X thing." He then took a good swig of his booze. You sit there listing to him ranting and raving about what ever he came from and killing vampires. Oh, and his wife to. He talked about his wife a lot. Some of which you wish you never heard.
Boredom would soon kick in after listing to him gloat from what seems to be forever and a day. So you would lean over a bit checking out the other drunkards. The one that seemed to caught your eye was drinking, plotting, more drinking, and more plotting. His clothing? Well, it was very a deep purple color, the kind that men could safety wear and was a funky reddish brown hair that defined the law of gravity. Oh, and a sword to by his side. Better keep a mental note of that. He would look up at you and shooting a not so friendly look. You would let out a little squeak and quickly moved back. Of course, your new friend realized what just happen and grinned.
"Don't mind Kratos" He said. " He's a bit of a hard ass if you know what I mean."
You really didn't know what he meant, but you prefer not to ask him. It could only lead to information that you wished you never heard. Then, as if on cue he would speak.
"At lest I don't brag about every little thing I did to some idiot who wanders into a bar. "
Their was silence for a second.
"Oh yeah? At let MY ass wasn't kicked around by some stupid blonde hair man with has a taste for white skin tight clothing." Ringo would respond. " Did I mention your STUPID girlie SPARKLY wings?"
Oh yeah, he just started a war.
"I wasn't killed by a Immortal who's hair looks like two legs!"
"I'm not suppose to be stuck on a planet!"
"MY son at lest isn't attacked by psychotic yaoi fans with twisted imagination and ask him if does 'nightly actives' with his own brother!"
"At lest both of them can count up to 20!"
Watching the verbal battle between the two was fun at first, but then things started to get a little too violent for your taste and the fact they slowly started to shoot the 'Your mom' comments at each other.
"They always do this every night. They start up an insult match, it goes on for hours until one of them gives up, but in the end they apologizes and continue there odd friendship." You would jump 20 feet from your seat after that voice addressed you. Once your heart started to beat normally again you would turn around. Great, another cowboy look. Well, it wasn't overly tacky like good ol' Ringo. It was just a light brown overcoat and a oversize hat that covered his face. You would walk over to the booth he was sitting at and sit across from him.
" My name is Wern--"
Ringo would then shout in mid battle. "IT STILL SOUNDS LIKE WIENER!"
"...er" He would then sigh and shake his head. " Warner. My name is Werner Maxwell. So, what's you name?"
Well, he seems like a nice SMART guy, so you tell him your name. With your observation skill you see he has book sitting right next to him. If you wonder what the title is was " PLANET RESTORING MADE EASY". You ask him if he was some kind of scientist.
"You could say I was, a long time ago. I just carry this old thing to keep myself amused. One cannot live off of the stupidly of the two when they break into their shouting matches." You nod in agreement as you take a quick look over at the two. Ringo had Kratos in a headlock.
"However, their is the comforting fact that there is other bar goners that come here." Great, more psycho people. "That are actually sane." That was a comforting fact. " Well, I don't know if that Hojo guy is sane. Rumor has it that he has a lab under here." Maybe that explain the menacing laugher you heard when you where walking past the bar. "And Dad-- Yes, his name is Dad, we showed us his birth records-- comes in and hides by that rubber plant. No one knows why."
"Hey! I'm still here!" Dad would wave his hand from behide the rubber plant. All you could see was his hat, the hand waving at you and the hand with a large glass of beer in it.
You listen on to Warner's conversation about a few other bar patrons when you look over at the clock. 1:30 AM it was late at night and you realize you need to get home ASAP due to the fact you had an exam to on human body take in a few hours. You politely tell him that you have to leave and he said his good bye. So, you move over to the door.
"'Ey, feel free to drop by again." Said one of the shorter tenders while the taller one nod in agreement.
You say good byes to the two grown men putting each other in headlocks and walked out of the bar.
Once you steped outside of the bar and into the warm summer's night to make your trek back home a smile came across your face. ' Sure as heck i'll come back...'