Scene: It's just after midnight, in a grimy alley. I am carrying Coffee Bean's semiconscious body on my shoulder, and Maria is covering our backs with her Bisley. No sign of pursuit so far, thank "Bob". Coffee Bean is bleeding all over the back of my neck, and I just caught a cramp. I hate when this sort of thing happens.
Whoa, Rev, let's back it up a bit, so the folks at home know what the hell you're talking about.
Coffee Bean was in a bad mood all the way to the bar. We were headed there to see a new band that's making waves in Tucson, sort of a Blues Travelers meets Talking Heads retro thing. I tried to relax, but Coffee Bean was angry about a tenant that had skipped out, leaving a huge mess. He was clearly going to be trouble...but what the hell? Who hasn't been there?
We parked two blocks away, and walked down the street and into the bar. Inside, the place smelled of stale beer, puke, and urine. Welcome to Tucson, and enjoy the band while you can...If they're any good, they'll be gone by the end of the month, to bars in Phoenix and Mesa, where there is money to be made without having to dodge pools of puke and blood on the floor.
Coffee Bean and Maria grabbed a beer, and I ordered my customary coffee. The band was just setting up, and already things didn't look good. The soundman was having trouble with his board, and every few minutes, there would be this horrible SCREEECH of feedback.
I glanced over, and saw the look on Coffee Bean's face. Not good. He is a high strung, hate-filled man by nature, and he looked about ready to explode. I made eye contact with Maria, and she just flashed that psycho grin of hers...no help there. Damn...I just want to hear some new music, and my companions are looking for trouble. I came for the music, and stayed for the hideous mayhem.
Amazingly enough, the band didn't suck, and three hours later I was relaxed and enjoying the show. The band stopped for their last break, and the soundman started screwing with his board again. Anticipating more screeches, I hit the restroom.
I came back out to chaos.
Coffee Bean was quietly explaining the facts of life to some drunken frat boy from the U of A. I have no idea what started the altercation, but I could tell it was likely to get ugly. The drunken oaf was grinning at Coffee Bean...not taking him seriously. Why are people so damned stupid? Coffee Bean is a thug, and looks the part. The dumbass who was busy tempting fate seemed to think that being 6'2" or so was a guarantee of leaving this place with all of his teeth, or even a scrap of his dignity.
Coffee Bean had stopped talking, and had tensed up, ready to spring. I started moving fast, trying to prevent another "incident".
SCREEEEEECH!
As the hideous sound of feedback filled the room, everything started moving at once. Coffee Bean punched the dumbass in the gut, then gave him an uppercut to the face. The Oaf went down, and four of his buddies jumped on Coffee Bean, pummeling him like a sack of flour. Maria dove in, and started kicking people in the stomach, her favored move. The next 30 or 40 seconds were a chaotic whirl of fists and feet, and then suddenly we had room. I had a bloody nose, Coffee Bean was down with a split scalp, and 3 or 4 frat boys were curled up on the floor, holding their guts.
Then one of the frat boys still standing grabbed a barstool. Why must there always be an idiot? Up until now, it was a good old friendly fight.
Maria and I drew on the idiot with the chair, and everybody stopped moving. I holstered, and then picked up Coffee Bean while Maria stared down the college students with that crazy grin she always wears in situations like these.
So here we are, jogging down the alley, heading back to the car. Nobody chased us, and pretty soon we were on the way home to stitch up Coffee Bean's head. Maria is getting to be pretty good at that sort of thing, and it's not like I'm worried about anesthetic...A little pain might remind Coffee Bean to watch his temper when I want to watch a band.
After all, we are pillars of the community. Certain standards have to be maintained, if for no other reason than to provide an example to the rabble.
We are, after all, Of The Cloth.
Or kill me.
very Hunter S Thompson
i enjoyed
while i appreciate your rant type posts...they're very informative..unique view on things, etc, i really like how you tell a story. the personal feel these writings have really seem to draw me in whereas the rants sort of just slap me around like the drunken frat boy. ya know, it's actually rather edifying to be on the other side of the fist.
:mittens: very nice Roger :)
Quote from: burnstoupee on May 06, 2008, 05:59:48 AM
while i appreciate your rant type posts...they're very informative..unique view on things, etc, i really like how you tell a story. the personal feel these writings have really seem to draw me in whereas the rants sort of just slap me around like the drunken frat boy. ya know, it's actually rather edifying to be on the other side of the fist.
Roger's 4th Axiom: EVERYTHING is funny, when it happens to somebody else.
You have other axioms then?
Quote from: Requiem on May 09, 2008, 01:25:15 AM
You have other axioms then?
You had to ask didn't you?
so wait, there are other axioms? that wasn't just a figure of speech?
Quote from: burnstoupee on May 09, 2008, 07:03:36 AM
so wait, there are other axioms? that wasn't just a figure of speech?
Of course there are.
:mittens:
:mittens:
Any plans on writing a book or three, TGRR?
-Verb,
would buy
Quote from: Verbatim on May 10, 2008, 11:04:11 PM
:mittens:
Any plans on writing a book or three, TGRR?
-Verb,
would buy
IAWTC
hate to sound like a parrot, but :mittens: as well. Good style, good flow, all around good prose.
bra fuckin O, you asshole.
Quote from: rzasthole on May 13, 2008, 05:14:27 AM
bra fuckin O, you asshole.
Thanks, but the proper term is "Bastard".
Make the book? :)
Not a bad idea, because this is quite highlevel writing. (or how do you say it)
Quote from: Disorder on May 13, 2008, 12:22:31 PM
Make the book? :)
Not a bad idea, because this is quite highlevel writing. (or how do you say it)
It's pronounced "sacred spiritual writing."
Proposed title:
Shit Hate! The Autobiography of a Rain God.
Alternate title:
"I WILL KILL A MOTHERFUCKER."
Hell, use both. Roger's got a sequel in him.
I suspect Marias' grin caused far more fear than her pistol.
Very entertaining. I like this kind of stuff.
Bump.
This was the Coffee Bean I was talking about, the one that just got turned into Sidewalk Jesus the other week.
Good bump, I hadn't read this one before.
Love how you tell a story.
Bump for new project.
Awesome story. :)