Chapter 5
The First Temptation of Zim
They stopped at the Mobil station so Fitz could get some energy drinks, gum and Flamin' Hot Cheetos, but they still managed to make it to Tailgators by 9:45. Before they were even in the door, they knew the show had not yet begun, as Brandon was outside lugging his equipment through the door. Fitz gave his signature Fitz-Whistle, and Brandon turned away from his equipment to respond with the same.
After they greeted each other, Brandon turned his attention to Zim. "Did you go back to sleep?"
"No. No matter how hard I tried."
"One day, when you grow up, you'll thank me for this."
"Fuck you."
Brandon once more gave the Fitz-Whistle and went back to work.
"Sometimes I hate that guy," Zim said.
"Suck it up," Fitz said. "There's alcohol beyond those doors."
"There's alcohol in our pockets."
"Then all is right with the world."
These words struck a chord with Zim, as if there was an angel named Destiny watching over him and she was hard at work. Hadn't he had a dream in which some guy had told him he was going to save the world?
They stepped past the bouncer, who heartily greeted Fitz and ignored Zim. The crowd was not heavy yet, but there was a decent amount of people present. Most sat at tables, and a few played pool nearby. Some were talking with Brandon as he set up his equipment onstage.
"There they are." Fitz pointed to a table near the bathroom.
At that very moment Bruni noticed them and roared, indicating that he was probably already ten shots in. "Fitz!"
As they approached the table Fitz pointed to Zim. "Look who I brought."
"Holy shit!" Bruni yelled. "Zzzzzzzzziiiiiiiiiiiimmmmmmmmmm!"
"Bruni. In your element, I see."
"BOOZE!" Bruni yelled. The bouncer looked over at him, but this drunkard seemed harmless. He was just loud, that was all. In this place loud was fine.
There were others at the table, and Fitz made his rounds, greeting everyone. Kliff and Skalsky had both managed to make it, as had the mysteriously monikered D-Dolla'. Done, Fitz said, "Okay, I'm off to get a drink."
"You flasking it tonight?" Bruni asked.
"Oh yeah. We both are."
"Good, good. Me, too." He patted not one pocket but both.
"I would expect nothing less from you, Bruni. What do you want, Zim?"
"You're buying?" Zim asked.
"I'll buy your first drink. You did lose your job, after all."
"Vodka and Red Bull."
"You sure about that?" Fitz asked. "Because I remember that one time—"
"I'm sure," Zim said. His voice dripped with acid.
Fitz held up his hands, submissive. "Okay! Okay!"
The drinking commenced, and shortly thereafter the singing began. In that time another party had joined the fray: an already drunk Rico. And following him was an unexpected—and unwanted—guest: DD.
"Hey guys. I didn't know you were all going to be here tonight."
Zim wanted to hide his face. Although he had not met this guy before, he was aware of the stories, and he wanted to avoid DD if at all possible.
DD approached Zim. "Hey. You must be Zim. Good to meet you. You don't happen to have, like, five bucks I can borrow? It's for a drink."
Zim mustered the best polite tone he could. "Sorry, dude. I lost my job today."
"That sucks. I know what that's like. But, like, can you spare me a quarter, then?"
"No. No, I can't." This time Zim did nothing to disguise the disgust in his voice.
"Just thought I'd ask." And DD moved on to his next victim.
Zim downed the rest of his drink—his second—and refilled his glass under the table. He thought that Bruni might have had the right idea, to have come with two flasks. Zim was certain he'd need at least two to survive DD tonight. It was time to start the heavy drinking.
After a while he felt the need to break the seal, and when he stood the room swam around him. Whoops! Perhaps the heavy drinking had started too soon. He looked at his phone and was horrified to see that it was only 10:00. With a sigh he staggered to the bathroom and punished the porcelain. As he urinated he removed the flask from his pocket and drank deeply. It was about half-empty by this point, which meant he would have to start buying his own drinks soon.
He washed his hands and returned to the table just in time to see DD attempt to hit up Kliff for a fiver.
"If you don't get out of my face, I'm going to punch you in the dick," Kliff said.
DD laughed as if everything was a joke. "Like Steven Seagal in that one movie? That was awesome."
Kliff made a fist and thrust it into DD's crotch, not from the front or the sides, but upward like an uppercut. He clearly wanted to make sure he got DD's balls with this one.
DD's air whooshed out, and he fell to the floor, trying to breathe as he clutched his broken genitals. Everyone laughed at his misfortune, but Kliff didn't care. Out of sight, out of mind. If Kliff drank, Zim thought, I would buy him some booze.
How many people had wanted to lay DD low like that? Too many to count. Perhaps everyone who had ever had a passing acquaintance with DD had wanted to do this, but the rules of society had dictated that such a thing would be frowned upon.
Zim stepped over DD's agonized form and took his seat back.
Fitz was called to the stage, where he did "Bodies" by Drowning Pool. It never failed to be a crowd pleaser. By the time the song was over, Zim was hammered and out of booze. It was only ten-fifteen.
"I'm going to get another drink," he said. He staggered to the bar. On the way he noticed a very beautiful woman, and it looked like she was on her own. She leaned against the bar, waiting for her drink, displaying her ass in such a way that she was almost extending an invitation.
An invitation he was willing to accept.
He walked up next to her and propped himself up on the bar with an elbow. "How's it going?"
She ignored him, scanning the crowd.
"My name is Cris, but most people call me Zim." He offered his hand.
"Are you talking to me?" she asked.
"Uh . . . yeah. What're you drinking?"
"I'm waiting for my boyfriend."
"Sorry." He mentally cursed her. He cursed himself a little, but mostly it was her. He turned to the bartender and ordered another drink.
He noticed a peculiar face on the other side of the bar, yet it was familiar at the same time. There stood an impeccably dressed man drinking from a martini glass, but he looked like something more than a man. He was green-skinned with red eyes and horns. Hadn't such a creature been described in his dream from earlier?
Brandon interrupted the thought: "I would now like to call to the stage . . . the amazing, the fantastic . . . ZIM!"
When had he turned in his slip? Had he even done this? Was he that drunk already? He stumbled toward the stage, wondering what song he'd requested.
