I was sitting in a bar. The clientele were the usual sort; fat, bearded, stinking of a dishonest day’s work. But it was the only bar for thirty miles, and I had to rest the horse – not to mention that my arse had moulded itself to my saddle. I’d been riding for three days straight, stopping only to sleep or to answer the call of nature. So I figured a night in an actual bed rather than on bedrock might make for a nice change.
So, I ordered a whisky, or what the locals considered whisky. I think a cat pissed in their drums and they purposely let it ferment. Either way, I was desperate for a stiff drink. In the last week, I’d seen more bodies pile up around me than hornets on a mango tree.
Course, they had it coming. And it serves them right, too. Anyway, there I was, knocking down another shot of cat piss when a rather unsavoury chap noticed my shoes.
‘You ain’t from around here,’ he said, invading my personal space so badly, I could smell the cat piss on his breath – though, now that I think about it, it probably was actual cat piss.
‘You’re very observant,’ I replied, not bothering to look at him.
‘You know how I know?’ he continued. ‘Cause them shoes are mighty nice – too nice for these dirt streets.
He was right, of course, about everything. I wasn’t from there. But I thought it would have been my saddle-shaped arse that gave it away. It surely didn’t have anything to do with my clean clothes, clean shaven face, or complete set of teeth. Surely not.
I turned to him with a genuine look of surprise. ‘Friend, you must be the local lawman. Cause that’s some mighty fine detective work there. Why don’t you let me buy you a round of cat piss?’
It might have been something I said but his sunny disposition suddenly left him and his unkempt moustache frowned.
‘You city folk think you’re so good,’ he said, his voice stifling his aggression. ‘Too good for us country folk.’
‘My good man, you have me sadly mistaken,’ I replied. ‘I don’t think I’m better than you. I know I am. You’re a barbarian. For God’s sake man, when was the last time you bathed? You’re not even drawing the flies. Now please, it’s been a long day. I just want to enjoy this sorry excuse for liquor and then I’d like to go to bed.’
That time, it was definitely something I said because the bar keep looked at me and frowned. Guess he didn’t like me insulting his cats. He turned to the hairy barbarian next to me and gave a slight nod. Immediately, my toothless friend turned to a few men sitting at a table by the front.
‘We got another one, boys!’
The table of five men, who’d been watching, jumped out of their seats, almost excitedly, and made their way to where my bearded friend and I were standing by the bar. They were all young looking – my hairy associate was by far the oldest, with wild light brown & grey hair escaping from under a tilted wide brimmed hat. But they were all just as rough looking; stubbled red faces from the constant sunshine, dirty, baggy clothes that looked like hand-me-downs, and semi-toothless grins that would have made any inbred mother proud. Within seconds, the people all around the bar backed away, and I was surrounded.
And here I was, thinking I could just have a damn drink in peace. After everything that I’d been through in the last 12 months, let alone the last week, I finally decided to vent my mind… before I killed him.
I turned, still holding my shot of whisky. ‘Do you know, I’ve been around. Oh yes. I’ve seen my fair share of cities. And do you know, it never ceases to amaze me at how many dickwads I come across. It’s like people are looking for trouble, as if their miserable, God-forsaken lives weren’t bad enough, like the company they keep, or the fact that there’s probably, what, maybe ten eligible woman in this whole town – present company excluded, of course. Because let’s face it, the cat that pissed in these glasses is probably more appealing.
‘But you know, I’m starting to think that it’s me. Is it my face? Do I have beady eyes that draw the perverse? The mentally challenged? The inferior life forms that were actually rejected by the gene pool but God thought it’d be funny to include them anyway? Seriously, I don’t ask for much. Just a quiet drink and a night off from slaughtering. That’s it. I don’t look for trouble. I just want to be left alone. But do you think I ever get that? Do you think that peace and tranquillity is something that follows me? Of course not. But apparently, I have the face of someone who wants to be jolly-rogered. Just because I know what a bar of soap is shouldn’t make me a target. If anything, you lot should be cherishing me. Especially your women – lord knows, they’ve probably never seen clean skin. Well ladies, I assure you, that musky, shitty smell is not the norm. And if I were you, I would lock up your chastity belts until you start seeing some real results. Because let’s face it, you really are getting the raw end of the bargain here. I mean, look at these fine specimens that you have to choose from. You know, I don’t think anyone would mind if you all turned gay. Honestly. If this sorry sack of potatoes was anything to go by, I’d be turning to the dark side too.’
The man’s beard twitched, as if his beard was filtering the conversation, trying to comprehend the big words before translating it to his brain. Then he grinned.
‘You got a big mouth. But that’s good. That’ll make this more fun. Hey boys, what say we draw this one out before we leave him for the crows?’
The man’s rhetorical question was met with chuckles and grunts, and toothless grins.’
‘See, this is the problem with society,’ I continued. ‘I can stand before you and tell you exactly what’s wrong, and how pointless your existence is. But it means nothing. Because you lot are just too damn stupid to understand.’
At this, a woman snorted. Guess she understood that one.
‘In this world, where people are killing each other over water, and where staying outside during a storm can literally kill you, you would think that society as a whole would band together; to help our fellow brothers and sisters so we can thrive as a community. But no. No matter where I go, no matter how far I travel, the selfish nature of man seems to be the only constant thing that I encounter.’
‘I think you got a big—’
‘Quiet, I’m on a roll. There’s simply no changing mankind. You lot are so self-obsessed. It doesn’t matter how much you say you bond with your fellow brothers, if the price is right, you’d sell each other out in two clicks of stallion’s hoof. There’s no loyalty. No dedication. No perseverance. It’s about the here & now; instant gratification. Somewhere in that peanut brain of yours, you saw this sharply dressed man standing by himself, and it didn’t occur to you to approach me and say “Hello, what brings you here, and how did you change your life so that I might actually learn something and try and implement the same damn lessons into my own life?” No, no. You just thought, hey, he’s different. Let’s flash him our dicks. Cause let’s face it, that’s obviously worked for you in the past, hence your current stinking predicament. You cut the tallest flower so the rest of you don’t have to feel as bad about your own miserable lives. Don’t you get it? You think you’re being all big and tough at my expense but you’re like every other dickhead that I’ve crossed paths with. And do you know how many actually survived crossing my path? Go on, guess?’
As if on cue, the bearded man and his posse all pulled out hand guns and pointed them at my head. I sighed. Then finished my whisky. I casually tapped the counter for another one. The bar keep didn’t move but just stood staring. Then he raised his hands as if to say, “Not my problem”, and shuffled out from behind the bar. Eh, I suppose I couldn’t blame him. But I still wanted that drink. So I reached over the counter and grabbed the bottle myself. I poured a glass and left some change on the counter – after all, this wasn’t a charity.
‘How’s about you turn around and we take this outside?’ said the bearded man.
He just wasn’t going to let up. But then, I did call him a stinking barbarian. I wasn’t lying about the flies though. There really weren’t any around us. This guy was his own repellent.
‘Let’s just do ‘em here, Cheech,’ said one of the younger men. I started laughing – I couldn’t help it.
‘Cheech? Please tell me that isn’t your name. Seriously.’
Cheech looked at the younger man and frowned then turned back to me.
‘I said turn around!’ Cheech repeated, then he kicked me in the back of my knee, causing me to spill my drink.
I spilled my drink.
I sighed again.
It was always the same. Mankind were just mean sheep leading the passive, scared sheep. But regardless, they were still sheep – sheep with delusions of grandeur. Those who had bigger balls, wanted to show the world. The rest wanted to go unnoticed, happy to roll over and expose their bellies, happy to be pushed in the direction of the aforementioned bigger-balled rams. And I was sick of the sorry lot of them.
Time for talking was over. I looked at my spilled drink and shook my head. It might have tasted like cat piss but it’s all they had… and oddly enough, I’d grown accustomed to the taste. I reached behind the counter for the bottle again.
‘I said turn the fuck—’
Then he stopped. And his gun began to tremble. I didn’t need to look at him to know what was happening. After all, I’d seen it all before. I poured my drink and took a slow swig.
Cheech’s breathing, along with all of his posse, began to quicken to short, shallow breaths, and he bear his teeth, like an animal dishing out a warning. Some among his party would be rasping their heads, unable to comprehend the overwhelming feelings now flooding their systems. Their guns trembled more, fighting their brains for control. Their hands wanted to point at my head. But the thoughts now flooding their system said otherwise.
I was actually beginning to like this cat piss. It was harsher than the good quality stuff that I was used to but that kick was starting to feel good on the back of the throat. Who would have thought that barbarians could make whisky? Don’t get me wrong. It was still cat piss. But it was pleasant cat piss.
I looked at the rim of my glass just as the first shot was fired. The damn thing was dirty! For God’s sake, didn’t these cretins even know how to wash their glasses? I leaned over the counter to see if I could find another one, just as a man was thrown over it, smashing into the rack of bottles behind. A woman next to me grabbed a bottle from behind the counter, smashed it on the counter and stabbed it into the neck of another man.
I found another glass but it wasn’t that much cleaner. So I rinsed it out with some yellowish alcohol I found… until I noticed a fucking worm in the bottom of it. That was the last thing I needed to see – worse than the bloke who lost a few fingers on the counter next to me under another broken bottle. Two men grabbed a woman and threw her out of the front window. That’s when I noticed the storm outside. Fortunately, my horse was in the reinforced stable, so it was protected from the harsh acid rain. But the acidic sting wafted in the window on the storm’s breeze and stung my eyes. That was my cue to go to bed. I slammed back the rest of my glass and quickly sidestepped a woman smashing a man’s head with a bar stool. My bearded friend, Cheech, had just taken a chunk out of another man’s ear before shooting the same man in the head. He open fired on a group of people watching from the front doors, dropping all of them before being knocked down by another larger man. The man pummelled Cheech’s head relentlessly into the ground until it was a mix of shattered skull and chunks of brain.
As I headed to the main stairs that led up to the sleeping rooms, two men continued their frenzied attack out onto the street, under the mercy of the acid storm. Both men were bleeding from all over their bodies from the rain but neither one gave in. It was hard to say if the screaming was the anger manifested or from their conscious minds crying out from the rain.
Yep. It was the same every time. People were just sheep. I walked up the stairs and headed for my room. Once inside, I was surprised to notice that they actually had spring mattresses. Spring mattresses were rarer than a simpleton with a full set of teeth. I was going to sleep well tonight.