XCOM - A Hidden Truth Occupation - Chapter 1.5 || 'Explosive Interuptions...'

Zangyl

Active Member
"What do you mean; 'i think you've head enough, sir'? W-Who... yeah, who are you to tell me... i've had enough?" he yelled; his eyes squinting slightly as he struggled to keep his balance. He then proceeded to slam his fist into the counter; causing the lithe-framed cocktail glasses to clang into eachother; a kakofony of glass ensueing; making his head ring. "Pfff-..." he stared; spraying saliva all around him. "-and this... this is supposed to be a proper pub? Yugh... useless! Yeah, useless i say!" he looked at the man behind the counter; his eyes twinkling aggressively. "Give me my beer!" He said; covering the man's face in stinking saliva. Yeah, he had been drinking for the last couple days now. However, this time he wasn't alone; nah, he had his mates with him. And mates, mates stand ready to assist whenever and wherever you go.

"-Yeah, why don't you... give him beer..?" another asked; no less sober than the first. "My bud Dick, wel... he... he is thirsty-" he yelled at the poor sod behind the counter; pointing at the drunk man who spoke up the first time. "-and to be fair, so am i!" He then proceeded to glare at the man behind the counter.

The poor waitress couldn't have picked a worst time to walk past; as when she did, the man - who was previously called 'Dick', reached for her and slapped her behind. Not in a flirty way, no; it was thirsty.

The poor girl's eyes were filled with disgust; her voice carried long and far as she stated; "Get your hands off of me, you perv!" and proceeded to walk away - surprisingly - quickly.

Dick simply chuckled; yeah, he thought the girl was hot. She was; pretty head, even better body. But the voice... yeah, he would be having a terrible headache soon. No doubts.

The man behind the counter, however, didn't appreciate this type of behavior. At all.

"Would the gentlemen please be so kind as to leave my humble establishment..?" he asked; his voice strong, yet a certain tone of insecurity in it.

Dick, and his companion, didn't appreciate those words. At all.
They proceeded to rant about how they weren't allowed any more beer, and soon after they began insulting not only the poor man behind the counter; but his family as well.

The man behind the counter sighed, looking up at the wall-mounted clock; hoping it would be time soon.

That action wasn't going to be taken in kind by the two drunkards. The ranting and swearing was already intensifying; the rest of the customers following along quietly; too scared - or busy trying to ignore - to interrupt, or assist...
 
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However there was one customer that didn't take too kindly to his drink being interrupted. Ironically he looked just like the drunks, maybe even worse. A lone customer that usually sat at the back end of the pub with drinks of questionable quality, his coat dirty and the scar on his face serving only to make him look even more like a lowlife

He raised a brow and with stumbled motions, almost like a baby taking it's first steps...if the baby was piss drunk, he got up

"oi Wankers, keep it down will ya. People are tryin' to have a drink here" he said and took a swig out of his bottle "one of them -hic- being me" at which point he had to sit down again. However his eyes fell to the apparent instigator of all this

"And Dick...fitting name" he said and an insulting smirk formed on his lips. At this point it was pretty apparent that the guy was just a rumbling drunk. Who apparently had some sort of a death wish
 
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