Friday, November 16, 2007

This Shot's On Me

I give the Big Beast a solid shot to the gut and he doubles over in pain as I bring my knee up to his face, knocking him on his ass. The rest of the scum of this bar are on their feet coming at me with weapons in hand. Anyone without a weapon quickly smashes a bottle or a glass just to have something to gut me with.

I'm holding my own just fine though, dodging and blocking and giving out as much punishment as I can but eventually the sheer number of them all gets the better of me.

Three of them take out my legs and I'm on the floor rolling in liqour and broken glass. A bunch more of them get a hold of me and, lifting me above their heads, hurl me head first into the jukebox.

I hit the floor hard and do my best to shake it off.

As I get up off the floor all I can hear is the click, click, click of guns being cocked all over the room and I don't have to look to know they're all pointed at me. That thought alone is enough to give me the adrenaline I need to end this fast.

I stand up and go to the jukebox. It's beat to hell but I'm thinking it's still in working order so I toss in a coin.

I face them all down, drawing my swords as the opening of "She Sells Sanctuary" by the Cult starts streaming out of the soundsystem.

"Who brings a blade to a gunfight?" one of them says.

"You're right. What was I thinking?" I reply through clenched teeth.

In a flash I toss my kitanas straight up, stick'em in the ceiling, whip out my six shooters and let loose as the Cult kick it into high gear.

It's a bullet-riddled free for all as I leap on top of the pool table, flip across the room and land on top of the bar letting my dragons breathe their iron fire the whole way.

I take out at least half a dozen of these low lifes in less than a minute and the rest are such lousy shots that they're running on empty by the time the minutes done.

In a panic now, they all grab whatever's close to them. They're coming at me with tables and chairs, pool cues, bottles, and anything else they can lay their hands on. I can take it though. A fist here, an elbow there. The bones break and the blood flows and before long the floor is littered with their broken bodies.

All but one.

The sniveling little punk that led me here.

He stands cowering between me and the exit. Terrified.

"Just look at the mess you made." I say as I gather up my swords. "I'll tell you what..."

I grab a shot glass from the bar.

"...this shot's on me."

I hurl the shot glass at him and nail him between the eyes, knocking him out cold.

I step over bodies as I make my way out the door just as the Cult finish things up.

Damn, I love that song.

1 comment:

M Mitchell said...

I've got a fever. And the only cure, is more Ninja Bandit!