Rich barged into the pub, his tell tale frustrated expression blazing across his face. He walked briskly, his feet pounding against the wooden floor as he made his way toward the bar with determination. "I hate my job." He said, sitting at a stool beside Bucknuck, who took a short moment away from a hockey game to glare at Rich.
"Why do you hate your job?" He asked, with meager interest.
Rich turned to him, his eyes still glowing with rage. "Because I have to deal with people like you." He said, angrily.
"What?" Bucknuck recoiled, "What do you mean like me?"
"Oh you're fine now, manageable and all." He said, flailing his hands in explanation. "But thirty minutes from now, when half the tap has gone down your gluttonous gullet, you'll be a raving lunatic."
Bucknuck's insulted expression faded and he sat staring into nothingness as he thought. His eyes soon locked with Rich's again, and his eyebrows raised ponderously. "Yup... that's about right." he said, spinning his gaze back to the television and slapping an empty mug to the bar, "Another please!"
Rich rolled his eyes. "Give me coffee dang it, before I lose my cool and pull out a davy crocket nuke or something."
"Yes sir." Replied the bartender, swiftly retreiving both orders.
Kellan and Seldom were distracted from arm wrestling when Anastasia and Rose walked in, the cold night breeze blowing past their heels and crawling into the pub as a white mist.
"It is far too cold!" Rose exclaimed, only now dropping her shoulders that had been protecting her neck from the brisk air.
"Stop your whining." Anastasia errupted, pulling a chair from a nearbye table and wrapping her coat around its back. "It's not even winter yet."
"But it's well into Fall!" Rose lamented.
"You're just a wuss."
"Oh shut up! At least I'm honest. You're just as upset about the cold but don't want to admit it!" Rose said, taking her turn to be seated. "I need something warm." She continued, eyeing for a waiter as she did so.
Olius had been sitting in a booth with Tasha, telling her about the wonders of the Okanagan valley and the treacherous endeavour of crossing Rogers Pass in mid January to reach Alberta on the other side.
She could tell he loved the beauty he saw in his part of the world, and attempted to convey to him the things she found beautiful about her neck of the woods.
Gemma was sitting alone when Sly came from the washroom, still walking with a cane. He sat beside her and gave a friendly smile. "How've you been?" he asked with mock concern, peering over her shoulder at Anastasia and Rose who were still squabbling at their table.
"Well maybe I'd tell you if you weren't more interested in the girls behind me." Gemma retorted, a slight glimmer of resentement in her gaze.
"Sorry." He said, " I really am interested in knowing the answer to the question..." He peered over her shoulder again. "... It's just that, they're so dang loud!"
Gemma laughed, turning over to see the girls bickering. "Yeah, we girls sometimes do that."
"Don't have to tell me that." He said, quickly wishing he hadn't.
Gemma shot a sharp glance his way, "What exactly do you mean by that?" She asked, her fingers curled, nails ready to inflict maximum damage if the need arrised.
Sly leaned back, sensing an imminent reprisal. "I was simply agreeing... " he said, cautiously.
"Well, that was one of those things you don't comment on, like if I was telling you that my best friend's a total *explitive deleted* because of what she did with that guy from the sports store. You don't agree. Girls just need to burn steam sometimes, and just because you're hearing something from us doesn't give you the right to put in your two cents." She rolled her eyes. "Guys just don't seem to understand that maybe we just want you to shut up and listen once in a while."
Sly stood silent, still afraid for his life. "I'll remember that." he said, smiling as genuinely as possible.
Gemma calmed, smiled at him and got up from her chair. "Good." she said, giving him a friendly peck on the cheek before running off.
Sly sighed, released the tension of his fear and wished he hadn't seen his life flash before his eyes, what a pitiful sight!
Eloosive had been discussing the theory of relativity with Kevichella who was claiming he had ran from one end of the pub to the other so quickly that he had travelled into the past. Eloosive was growing impatient at the fact that Kevichella kept disagreeing with his statement that moving fast didn't cause a time dilation into negative values.
Kevichella blinked odly long, "You can just give up now." He said to Eloosive after a moment. "I just came back from the future again, and I already know I win this arguement, oh and you're still a prick in the future, just so you know."
Eloosive sighed, turned around and walked away.
Forrest had been sitting at the bar beside Rich and Bucknuck, only a few feet from Jim who had already downed six Whiskey Sours and was visibly impaired. "You think you should slow it down a bit?" He said to Jim, who was barely able to remain on his stool.
"Slow it down?" He asked, with a thick accent, exasperated from the drink. "Slow it down?" He asked again, insulted at the idea. "What do you think I am? A school girl? No, I don't slow down my friend, I move forward! Like a real man!" he slapped another empty glass down, "Whiskey Sour Jeeves, I don't want to feel my face!"
Forrest slapped him across the cheek.
"What was that?" Jim said, searching for the source of the blow.
"Well you're not quite there yet." Forrest said, turning back to his own drink and leaving Jim to look about the room aimlessly, still wondering what had cought him in the face.
Moonwalker was in a booth with Cassandra, attempting to explain to her that Sly hadn't left her because he didn't care, as she sobbed in the corner. "He only had to go to the washroom!" She consoled, "You know... to pee?"
"I'm not stupid!" Cassandra said, a slight tone of anger on her voice.
"Well then why are you upset?"
"Cause he left on purpose! He's avoiding me! I can tell."
Moonwalker stared into emptyness, thinking of what to say next when Sly came up beside her. "Thank god you're back!" she said, nodding her head toward Cassandra, "She'sbeen a little... ..." She sat there, searching for words.
"Yeah I can see that." Sly said,
Cassandra looked up at him. "You're back." she said indignently, "How surprising."
"Well, I did have to go to the washroom." He said in his defence.
"I'll leave you to her." Moonwalker said, getting up and making her way toward the bar.
"Are you going to sit down?" Cassandra asked, her attitude ameliorating.
Sly sat opposite her in the booth. "Sorry about the whole two personalities thing, I'm seriously not schizophrenic or anything." He said, "Well... techincally I guess I am." He looked around the room, watching the others talking and generally enjoying themselves, Nick on the dance floor busting a windmill kick. "Wow I didn't know semi-dead people could breakdance."
"Well of course they can!" Cassandra interjected "Are you prejudice toward the recently deceased?"
Sly looked at her blankly. "I suppose I am."
"Well you shouldn't be, they're harmless."
"Unless they're trying to eat your brains."
"Does that look like he's trying to eat any brains?" She said, pointing to Nick, who was now spinning on his head.
"Jesus where did he learn that?" He said, amazed at the form.
Tomu was walking by and noticed the stellar performance and stopped to watch it, blocking Sly's view.
"Hey man, move out of the way, I wanna see the dead guy dance too!"
Tomu looked back. "Sure, he's doing the robot now, totally lost my interest."
"Oh." Sly said, watching Nick pull an arm off in a rather spectacular and innovative form of the robot. "Wow, that's kind of disturbing."
"You're so prejudice." Cassandra muttered.
"Oh give me a break he's dead! Who cares."
"And if he was black?"
Nick stared at her, his Editor eyes gleaming fireballs of retribution.
"I wouldn't go there, I think I smell brimstone." Sly said, as Nick continued the Robot again, his fury having subsided.
Jack and Archi had been watching him dance for a while now, impressed by his talent despite the considerable lack of motor control.
Although she was having a good time, she was still somewhat upset about having been interpreted as a male in a previous chapter, someone would pay for that dearly!
C was nowhere to be found, as at the moment they were all once again in the Protagonize pub, and not at The Lazy Sleuth, which he refused to leave.
Redhat had made his way to Rose and Anastasia's table and found himself in an engaging yet downward spiralling conversation on the contravetial subject of abortion. He was backpeddling quickly after mentioning the subject and hoped that some miracle would save him from the incoming salvo of criticism. "God please, do something!" He thought to himself.
All in all, the members of the pub were simply enjoying a relatively normal, not so out of this world time, but how long could that possibly go on for? Surely something completely and utterly insane would unfurl soon enough.
Only time would tell.