The Musings of a Bartender

I do not own Hearthstone, Blizzard Entertainment does!

Written for: Twelve Shots of Summer: Eleventh Hour - Week 7


Bob was cleaning the tankards after a long day of work, whistling to himself as he cheerily went through the cleaning process. It had been another successful day of manning the Battlegrounds, as they had come to name the event.

Sure, it wasn't everyone's cup of tea, and some patrons preferred the guidance and assistance of other Bartenders when going through the magical Minion pool in their Taverns whilst the festivities were underway, but it always brought a smile to the Bartender's face. Just the possibilities that many of their patrons came up with in their warbands always threw his head into a spin. However, he wasn't one to judge a master at work when they made decisions that he had to manually shush in his head and offer encouragement instead, in case they were choices that determined the fate of a match, even if they were on their last legs.

But at the end of the day, one thing Bob knew for certain was it wasn't quite life without having to wave off your coworkers, even when they invited you out when you were the one who was supposed to be closing up for the day.

The Innkeeper was likely going to make his rounds over to check in with Bob, so Bob was in no rush. He knew he didn't have to make hasty work of the relaxing task. He had to use a flyswatter for a few minutes on a Minion card, whose magic was going sporadic after one patron's enchantments, but there appeared to be no issues besides that. His boss would probably be pleased with Bob's work.

Although, aside from that, he couldn't help but sigh with a smile. Some things felt as if they would never end, yet, truth be told, he couldn't deny he felt a tremour of his fingers underneath the washrag as they rattled against the insides of the wooden stein. He knew one day, he'd be out of the job once a majority of the patrons got bored with what Battlegrounds had to offer.

However, as he kept his smile up, Bob knew no matter what happened, he would still be there until the end of time. He knew without a doubt, there would always be someone who would be keen on sitting down to wait for another Battlegrounds to commence.

And, with a chuckle to himself, Bob knew there was no other home he wanted to be than the Inn. This was his life, and he would always have the patrons' backs and gladly die to everyone knowing him as just Bob the Bartender.


- Fin -

Thank you for reading the story! :D


EeveeGen9988: Hello there! I'm back with another offering of one-shots this week! :D

For this story, I'm shocked I managed to make a literal short story. Usually, I never go less than 1000 words, so this is an achievement for me after a long time of doing long stories. I remember doing some one-shots that were shorter than 1000 words, but that was a long time ago. :O

This week I went with [Last Legs]. I was going to go with the other prompt [Final Solution], but since Hearthstone's Battlegrounds have been on my mind lately, I worked in a little, tiny story about Bob the Bartender. :D

Bob the Bartender is your standard Bartender you get when you do Battlegrounds, and ever since I started playing Battlegrounds when it first came out years ago, I always liked Bob as a character. He's friendly, cheerful, and not to mention he's always got your back! So, for this week, instead of the other story I had, I decided to rewrite what I had and make a brand-new story! :D

Even though I know that you can play Battlegrounds any time you want irl, I would think that there would be a closing time in part of the Inn for Battlegrounds, so I decided to have Bob do some musing for this week. :D

I hope everyone had a good week, and I look forward to coming back with another story to tell in next week's entry! :O