by on December 26, 2015 :: 0 comments

The jukebox dared to play New Moon.

“Charlie, who put this on?”

“Weren’t me, it’s one of those tossers over there,” shrugged Charlie.

Tony cast a fury glance at Soulboy, Dollop, who wore his muscles under his belly and Library Lad.

“They come in our pub and stick their crap on, it ain’t right is it, Sid?”

Sid followed Tony’s gaze. Soulboy was trying his best to ignore the unwarranted hostility.

“You behave yourselves. Any trouble, you’re barred.”

Tony shook his head. He liked Buster yet the landlord worried too much.

“I ain’t gonna ‘ave a pop. I don’t like it though when mugs swan in here and think they own the place.”

Dollop dared to glare at Tony.

“Is he staring me out?”

“Come on, mate, let’s just have a couple of jars.”

“All right, but I ain’t happy.”

“You got a problem?” said Dollop.

The adipose drinker moved towards the bar. Tony grabbed the neck of his bottle. He’d used the strategy enough times in the past.

“You what?”

“Why do you keep slagging off our music?”

Dollop’s words were too much.

Tony’s bottle slashed into the stranger’s head. Tony’s jacket absorbed a fountain of fresh corpulent blood. Charlie, Sid, and Tony exacted out the fine for poor musical taste with a series of kicks and curses on Dollop’s prone body.

Tony stalked the remainder of the trio. Soulboy scarpered yet his friend stayed quite still.

“Oi, Harry Potter. You want some?”

The bespectacled man picked up his drink and took a quick swig before standing.

“Are you deaf?”

“That’s very witty of you to call me Harry Potter. I suppose it’s because of these?”

The wizard pointed to his glasses. He took them off and settled them into his top pocket.

Tony swung a slow heavy punch at his new victim’s head. He relished the easy battering.

His blow punctured empty air. He overbalanced and a patented shoe smashed into the groin before stamping onto his vulnerable knee.

“You’ve done my leg!” wailed Tony.

“There’s no need to shout. You see, I can’t stand Duran Duran either, but Martin likes them. I’ve been doing karate for a long while now, sorry about the knee, but you did attack me.”

“Boys, do him.”

Sid and Charlie reached into their jackets and the wizard spotted the glint of dangerous metal.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”

“Do him!” screamed Tony.

They attacked. The stranger issued his measured reaction.

A bullet struck Charlie in the arm. Before Sid could respond another flare from a pistol snuffed out the knife and his hand.

The landlord cowered beside his optics.

“Relax, landlord. There’s no real harm done. But if you don’t mind, I’ll have another beer.”

Buster ferreted around amidst the groans of the fallen.

“Who are you?” Buster asked.

The stranger helped Dollop to his feet.

“Mickey Perrin. I understand you know my father.”

Buster stared back open mouthed

.“Arthur’s boy? Why didn’t you say so? Tell your Dad I said hello.”

“Of course, but you can tell him yourself. He’s meeting me here with some old friends.”

Buster poured himself a double whiskey, downed it in one.

“Hello, Buster. Long time, no see, mate. I see my boy’s been having fun.”

The landlord waved at an old face and said his hello.

editors note:

Sometimes, what we want the most is bigger than us. It’s timeless. It’ll eat us whole and leave piles of bones behind after it drags us for miles and allows us to limp away as we praise grace. – tyler malone

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