Post by moshmosh on May 31, 2009 20:04:28 GMT -5
(Sorry for being late. Things never work out the way they're supposed to >>)
Lights danced and flickered across the eternal night that was draped over Mirrorball like shining stars. Many travelers might say that the island never sleeps, and while this isn't exactly true (That would be creepy...), its vibrant nightlife is the cause for a great many institutions to spring up that might appeal to this demographic.
Such a place could be found in a bar called "Runaway Bride". Situated away from any of the main roads, it was the sort of place where everyone was served equally, regardless of their legal standing. While this did create a tendency for less than savory individuals to appear, overall it was a merry place for a drink.
...Usually.
"Oi, oi, waiter! What the hell is this supposed to be?!" Shouted a shirtless man, after spitting out the contents of his drink.
A waitress scuttled over to the customer, trying her best to soothe him before he began to get the rest of the crowd riled up. "I-is there something wrong, sir?"
Slamming his arms down onto the surface that separated the two, and gave a scowl. "Of course there's something wrong! What's with this drink? I ordered beer! Not-" He made his point by jabbing a finger towards the decidedly orange liquid that was in his mug. "-whatever this is!"
"Mimosa. 3 parts alcohol, 2 parts orange juice." Answered another deep voice, this one resounding throughout the building in a way that made it seem much louder than it actually was. Love suddenly shot up from under the bar, eliciting a confused yelp from the poor waitress next to him. Dressed in a server's uniform (Minus tie, and plus sunglasses), he reared up to his full intimidating height. "It's good for you."
"Wait, was his crouched down there?..." The waitress asked of no one in particular.
The customer shrank back for a moment, but quickly shook off the surprise and began fuming again. I don't care if it's good for me! It's not what I wanted!"
"...Don't care?" This time, it was Love's turn to slam his fists onto the bar, albeit to a greater effect. "ORANGE JUICE CONTAINS SEVERAL VITAMINS AND MINERALS WHICH ARE ESSENTIAL FOR HUMAN SURVIVAL! AND IT IS AN ESSENTIAL PART OF PREVENTING SEVERAL DISEASES!" The giant man bellowed, the volume silencing the other patrons and focusing all eyes on their squabble. "If you don't like it, go somewhere else!"
Perhaps it was all the drinking he had done before he had stumbled in here, or perhaps he was just feeling particularly bold tonight, but the man decided to tempt the fates. "And what if I don't, big guy?" He said with a sneer.
Love's eyes narrowed (Not that anyone could tell). And, raising a heavy hand, the flamboyant man... promptly took a deep breath, and clamped his fingers over his nose.
The people watching couldn't quite believe what they were seeing.
"Umm..."
"Is... he?..."
It was at this time that the manager chose to make his entrance, walking up behind the bar to the growing scene with the impudence only someone who hadn't been paying attention up until this point could muster. Taking the cigarette from his mouth, he surveyed the situation. "Eh? What's going on? And ...Is that guy holding his breath?"
"I-I think so..."
"Who the hell is this guy?"
"Don't look at me. I didn't hire him."
The waitress fidgeted, and guiltily explained. "Well, I mentioned how short-handed we were earlier, and he just h-hopped over the bar and started serving people. He seemed like he knew what he was doing, so..."
"Well, you should have stopped him when he started pulling this health crap!" The patron shouted.
"Actually, this strawberry Campari is pretty good..." Piped the man sitting next to him. Then, in a much quieter voice. "Wow, is that guy actually turning blue?.." This only served to provoke him more.
"That's besides the point! If I'm going to steal a drink, I want what I ordered!" Suddenly, realizing his mistake, the man clamped a hand over his mouth.
"W-wait, you weren't going to pay?"
"...If you aren't even going to pay, then you really shouldn't get to complain about what drink you get." The manager said, raising an eyebrow.
"But...he..." He stammered. However, whatever feeble response that the thief was planning on offering was interrupted by a loud crack, followed by a thud, and then Love was nowhere to be seen.
"Mr. Waiter!" The girl shouted, seeing his collapsed form sprawled out on the ground. Her boss only whistled.
"Oh. Wow. He actually passed out. That's what I call dedication." He tapped the end of his cigarette out on an ashtray, and took another puff. "We better move him before he starts bleeding on the new floor."
As the two set about figuring a way to move the abnormally large man from such a small space, the thief could only watch. "...Oh screw it." He decided, slumping back in his chair. Staring at the mug he had been served, he shrugged, and gave it another swig. 'Hn. Not that bad after all.'
Lights danced and flickered across the eternal night that was draped over Mirrorball like shining stars. Many travelers might say that the island never sleeps, and while this isn't exactly true (That would be creepy...), its vibrant nightlife is the cause for a great many institutions to spring up that might appeal to this demographic.
Such a place could be found in a bar called "Runaway Bride". Situated away from any of the main roads, it was the sort of place where everyone was served equally, regardless of their legal standing. While this did create a tendency for less than savory individuals to appear, overall it was a merry place for a drink.
...Usually.
"Oi, oi, waiter! What the hell is this supposed to be?!" Shouted a shirtless man, after spitting out the contents of his drink.
A waitress scuttled over to the customer, trying her best to soothe him before he began to get the rest of the crowd riled up. "I-is there something wrong, sir?"
Slamming his arms down onto the surface that separated the two, and gave a scowl. "Of course there's something wrong! What's with this drink? I ordered beer! Not-" He made his point by jabbing a finger towards the decidedly orange liquid that was in his mug. "-whatever this is!"
"Mimosa. 3 parts alcohol, 2 parts orange juice." Answered another deep voice, this one resounding throughout the building in a way that made it seem much louder than it actually was. Love suddenly shot up from under the bar, eliciting a confused yelp from the poor waitress next to him. Dressed in a server's uniform (Minus tie, and plus sunglasses), he reared up to his full intimidating height. "It's good for you."
"Wait, was his crouched down there?..." The waitress asked of no one in particular.
The customer shrank back for a moment, but quickly shook off the surprise and began fuming again. I don't care if it's good for me! It's not what I wanted!"
"...Don't care?" This time, it was Love's turn to slam his fists onto the bar, albeit to a greater effect. "ORANGE JUICE CONTAINS SEVERAL VITAMINS AND MINERALS WHICH ARE ESSENTIAL FOR HUMAN SURVIVAL! AND IT IS AN ESSENTIAL PART OF PREVENTING SEVERAL DISEASES!" The giant man bellowed, the volume silencing the other patrons and focusing all eyes on their squabble. "If you don't like it, go somewhere else!"
Perhaps it was all the drinking he had done before he had stumbled in here, or perhaps he was just feeling particularly bold tonight, but the man decided to tempt the fates. "And what if I don't, big guy?" He said with a sneer.
Love's eyes narrowed (Not that anyone could tell). And, raising a heavy hand, the flamboyant man... promptly took a deep breath, and clamped his fingers over his nose.
The people watching couldn't quite believe what they were seeing.
"Umm..."
"Is... he?..."
It was at this time that the manager chose to make his entrance, walking up behind the bar to the growing scene with the impudence only someone who hadn't been paying attention up until this point could muster. Taking the cigarette from his mouth, he surveyed the situation. "Eh? What's going on? And ...Is that guy holding his breath?"
"I-I think so..."
"Who the hell is this guy?"
"Don't look at me. I didn't hire him."
The waitress fidgeted, and guiltily explained. "Well, I mentioned how short-handed we were earlier, and he just h-hopped over the bar and started serving people. He seemed like he knew what he was doing, so..."
"Well, you should have stopped him when he started pulling this health crap!" The patron shouted.
"Actually, this strawberry Campari is pretty good..." Piped the man sitting next to him. Then, in a much quieter voice. "Wow, is that guy actually turning blue?.." This only served to provoke him more.
"That's besides the point! If I'm going to steal a drink, I want what I ordered!" Suddenly, realizing his mistake, the man clamped a hand over his mouth.
"W-wait, you weren't going to pay?"
"...If you aren't even going to pay, then you really shouldn't get to complain about what drink you get." The manager said, raising an eyebrow.
"But...he..." He stammered. However, whatever feeble response that the thief was planning on offering was interrupted by a loud crack, followed by a thud, and then Love was nowhere to be seen.
"Mr. Waiter!" The girl shouted, seeing his collapsed form sprawled out on the ground. Her boss only whistled.
"Oh. Wow. He actually passed out. That's what I call dedication." He tapped the end of his cigarette out on an ashtray, and took another puff. "We better move him before he starts bleeding on the new floor."
As the two set about figuring a way to move the abnormally large man from such a small space, the thief could only watch. "...Oh screw it." He decided, slumping back in his chair. Staring at the mug he had been served, he shrugged, and gave it another swig. 'Hn. Not that bad after all.'