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The Bar

The Bar

Recommended Posts

The Bar

 

user posted image

 

 

user posted image

 

 

Moderators

Ziggy455 (Creator)

El Zilcho (Founder)

Craig

[Possibly you!]

[Possibly you!]

 

 

Laying underneath a motorway in some distant unknown city, the bar lay dormant. Outside as snow filtered down onto the dark and murky concrete streets, patrons would enter the bar. Each one of them having their own story to tell in and out of the bar. Welcome to the haven of many, pull up a chair and order your poison. You're here for your own reasons.

 

 

Welcome to The Bar, here's something for you to read:

 

The Bar is choc full of people, every hour of the day. Seven days a week, three hundred and sixty five days a year. Be calm in the bar and and write properly, nobody is not saying the occasional conflict will happen but this is a largely populated bar. If your character does anything to stupid, he may just end up being taken out back by a regular and dumped in the dumpster. You dig? Play nice.

 

 

 

Friday Night

 

 

NPC Description
Paddy O'Fallon
A beefy Irishman with an attitude as thick as his accent. He wears a stretched brown jumper with rolled up sleeves, a pair of polish black boots and tight black trousers. He is the owner and landlord of The Bar.

 

Last Seen: Second floor storage with Elmo and Lee

Mitsy Grünewald.
A petite, blonde haired girl with several tattoos on her neck and arms. She is quite attractive but unfortunately a lesbian. She is of British descent and is head of the bar.

 

Last Seen: Serving drinks in the Main Room.

Ricky Jones
An ex-Aryan brotherhood member. He is well stocked and bald with a trimmed beard. He is a bouncer and bartender and doesn't talk all that much.

 

Last Seen: Beating up the brute outside who knocked out Elmo.

"Dead Eye" Jefferson
An avid billiards player with an eyepatch, who hasn't lost a game in 5 years. He visits the bar every other night to challenge anyone who dares ask for a game.

 

Last Seen: Playing Billiards in the Backroom.

 

 

Patron Username Status Location
Jackson Miller
Ziggy455
Alive and merely wounded
Backroom
Nero
El Zilcho
Alive
Back Room
Barty Gabble

Archie

Typhus
Alive

Alive

Backalley

Main Room

Zinedine Kadir
Lethal Nizzle
Alive
Back Room
Lee Vincenzo

 

Howard Scrudder

 

Elmo Snow

 

AceRay
Alive

 

Alive

 

Unconscious

Main Room

 

Out of Bar

 

Main Room

Carson De Luca

 

ItsOnlyAce
Alive
Main Room
Todd Hoffman
TinTinn
Alive
Main Room
Blind Willie Shortbread
Craig
Alive
Back Room
Amani "The Warlord" Wilson
SIKSS66
Alive
Main Room
John Wilson
TUBBSthezombie
Unconscious
Ground floor toilets
Marlon Richman
Mokrie Dela
Alive
Out of Bar
Adam McCormick
Blitz
Alive
Main Room
Andre Philp Willis
glenn tha killer
Alive and merely wounded
Out of Bar

 

 

 

Room Description
Main Room
The Entrance room into The Bar, the main room is a typical room. Rectangular with a log fireplace, a large mahogany bar at the other end and a sh*tload of tables too. Huge curtains cover the old glass windows at the front entrance.
Backroom
A smaller bar is in here, complete with bar memorabilia. Two pool tables are placed opposite each other as well as a jukebox and two cigarette machines, windows that peek into the alleyway and industrial area beyond are covered by curtains.
Ground floor Hallway
A normal looking hallway, full of portraits of famous patrons and such. It leads to the stairs up to the second floor, to the back alley outside and the toilets.
Ground floor toilets
Grimy looking and covered in graffiti, the toilets are covered in puke and sh*t. A broken condom machine is in there too and it is a common place for crack addicts to take a nice nap. You'd much prefer to piss outside.
Back alley
Imagine your typical looking back alley, but this one overlooks the Industrial area. Pretty ain't it?
Cleaning cupboard
A small room behind the main bar, used for cleaning products and such.
Second Floor storage room
A small room full of bar sh*t. Glasses, mats and chairs. Unused organs and keyboards.
Second Floor balcony bar
A small 'conference' like bar room which overlooks the industrial area at night, it has a bar, a pool table, a pinball table and a lot of MC memorabilia. It has one wall with glass all across it that leads out into a grimy balcony coated in cheap white chairs and tables, those plastic white ones nobody likes.
Second Floor toilets
Look downstairs in those toilets, you'd get the picture. Except the condom machine works here.
Basement
The largest room in The Bar, you are led down to the basement via a long hallways of stairs, inside is a cordoned off area full of poker tables while at the other end a dance floor and performance stage are set up and in between lays a bar.
Rooftop
The rooftop gives off a beautiful view of the Industrial section that can't be seen from anywhere else, the entrance is from the side of the bar up a fire escape in the Back alley or through the trapdoor behind the bar of the Conference Room. The small brick storage hut has a old couch leaned on it.
Cellar
Only a place for the talented workers, that cold feeling and strong smell of beer in a dingy metallic room only spells out one place. It is behind the bar in the basement and connects beer to every other room.
Patron Recent Activity in The Bar
Jackson Miller
Jackson stood in the toilets, he headed into the backroom and following a heated argument with his crackhead brother, Richie, he settles down for a night of drinking, only to get knocked out by an askew flying 8 ball that knocks him out. He wakes up, heads into the Main Room and receives another threatening call. Hangs up and continues to get drunk.
Nero
Nero awaits patiently in the Back room for a rendezvous with his associates. He drinks a scotch on the rocks and silently takes in his surroundings, waiting for the meet up.
Barty Gabble
Barty Gabble removed his clothing, squatted down behind a dumpster in the backalley and prepares for a patron to come out so he may find his 'true love'. He thinks back to his younger years and his step-sister Mary. He finds humour in the thoughts of when he disembowled her cat and bashed up her tricycle. He laughs some more and returns to waiting.

 

Archie

Archie, one of the bartender's dogs sit patiently in the Main Room. He notices a sleepy Marlon then recounts his past and debates on whether or not to attack his owner. Feeling as downtrodden as the patrons, Archie wishes he was with his previous owner. He submits to his surroundings and prepares for another dull night. He notices Adam McCormick tending a bitter patron when he is suddenly approached by a ginger cat named Tigger, who after stating he killed her -to which he agrees and thinks was a necessity- she states God has sent her orders and that Archie may be able to get his life back.

Lee Vincenzo

 

He speeds off suddenly and passes The Bar, he comes to a stop near his home and finds his wife's lover. He confronts him weakly and after miserably losing his cool he is comforted by a stand worker. He sulks and enters The Bar's Main Room, he orders a glass of water and sulks as he eyes up the other patrons. As Elmo is knocked out, Lee is asked by Paddy to drag him upstairs into storage; where he discovers the .357.

 

Howard Scrudder

Howard, after bumping into Lee goes to see Maria. He enters her home and the two briefly talk before they embrace.

 

 

Elmo Snow

Elmo, a sprung oldie gets spruced up for the night, including his date a .357 Magnum, he heads to the bar for a night on the town. He notices Archie sitting at the bar and decides to strike up conversation with Jackson Miller. Unfortunately a brute of a man knocks him the f*ck out on the floor of the Main Room! He is dragged upstairs by Paddy and Lee.

Carson De Luca[/color]
Carson waits outside in the Alleyway, he simply starts outside and bumps into a disgruntled Patrick. They both head inside for a drink.
Tommy"Tank" Mckenna
Tank enters the bar and talks to one of the bartenders. He hopes to find work as a bouncer at the bar.
John Wilson
Wilson, a down on his luck lawyer is constantly worried about his safety due to a botched verdict. Downtrodden, he enters the bar and sparks up a conversation with a bartender and eventually stumbles off to the toilets where he collapses onto the dirty floor.
Marlon Richman
Marlon enters into the main room and orders a stiff drink. Being no match for it, he retreats to the toilet drunkenly and notices a passed out John Wilson before he returns back to the Main Room, half awake. He falls asleep but is woken up by the Lesbian Bartender who gives him a glass of water and offers him a cab. Marlon leaves the bar, more drunk than before and plans to return. He returns again after a day at work, he slumps down at the bar and prays for company.
Blind Willie Shortbread
Blind Willie Shortbread headed into the Main Room, after ordering a pint and barely conversing with another patron who discusses the main brawl, he slumps in the hallway near the toilets, only to be recognized by a familiar voice. The voice is of his friend Eddie, who tells him a lad by the name of Nero is waiting for somebody like Willy to show up. Shortbread takes the chance and goes into the Backroom; sparking a conversation with said Nero.
Adam McCormick
Adam McCormick goes out back to drop some trash. He notices a man with a pistol and in confidence asks his conflict. The man attempts to commit suicide with a gun but is stopped by Adam. He brings the suicidal man inside and Adam takes him to the Main Room and offers him a pint.
Andre Philp Willis
Andre Philp Willis enters the bar. He takes offence at a bartender's jests and accuses him of racial slandering. He, in turn, spits at the bartender. He is approached later by a gruff regular and is taken outside, beaten, and hospitalised. He discharges himself and returns home, only to weep over the anniversary of the death of his brothers.
Todd Hoffman
Todd enters the bar and discusses how he made it to America. He talks to a bartender for a while and then heads down into the basement to play poker while a small celebration takes place where the stage is.
Amani "The Warlord" Wilson

 

Amani enters the bar after a late shift, arriving out of a five year stint he bitterly remembers he enters the Main Room after the commotion in the back room. He settles down at the bar.
Tommy 'Tank' Mckenna
Tommy enters the bar, he settles down to have a few drinks and is recounted the story of the now fired Wussy. The two talk for a while before Tommy heads into the backalley. Wussy is dragged outside suddenly and flunged into a van. He goes back inside and settles down to a drink, talking to another bartender he hopes to get work as a bouncer.

 

The concept is simple, create a character and put him in your own story in The Bar, you can put the story wherever you like in or out of the bar, but if you plan on writing a story, you must join the board. The last place your character is when your story ends is what will be written on the character's board.

 

 

The Rules

 

 

Don't forget!

Anything you write is in real time, and the next patron will hear/see/respond to what you've done. If you bottle a patron, another player may decide to bottle you back. If you fire off a gun, somebody may shoot you back. So be warned! There is no quarrelling here. If somebody stabs you, you will write effectively how you died, recovered or responded.

 

This is purely a creative concept. Write about who you like, whether it's fifty or a thousand words. Go crazy, f*ck up the bar, start a fight. Barricade yourself in a room with a bottle of scotch. This is all for fun of course.

Rules and Instructions
Player/Player Interaction

Your character is a person who is in the bar, they can respond and interact with other players in the bar if that player consents and agrees like so: You have just written a story and you want to talk to another player who is positioned at the bar. You will finish your story with 'Player 1 then went over and sat next to Player 2, and in turn Player 2 will respond correctly.

Playing 'the badass'

Okay listen up, this is a bar, a bar when where people come to drink and we're expecting conflict now and again between patrons or their own story but in order to create a third dimensional character- YOU ARE NOT AN ACTION HERO. You don't have mad shooting skills, you can't kill people with your farts, and you sure as f*ck can't kick twelve burly bastards while drinking a Martini. Create a realistic character with flaws.

Fate

When your character is attacked, in order to stop writers from just writing 'my character shot you in teh head and burns you to death!' the equilibrium of fate and cause and effect takes place. If you are going to do something to a patron, you must do it in the final line like so: 'Daniel went forward with his knife raised and brought it down onto Steven!' - Check the 'What to include in your next story' to see if your attack has killed him or not.

 

Recent Activity

Recent Activity is an up to date status of each characters plotline. Whatever is placed in the box is the immediate previous event of that character and is 99% of the time the accurate and up to date action of the character to. Check up on it to see how Patrons in the Bar are doing.

What to include in your next story

The 'What to include in your next story' is a small prototype fate mechanic which is issued by myself. Basically it consists of a small description of something that YOU MUST include in your story. This can include the outcome of an impending attack, the effect of an attack or anything else that keeps the story moving fluidly.

Character's color

Don't forget to COLOR CODE your character's name in your preferred color so people can keep track of Patrons.

Writing stories

Your character is in his own story. If another patron decides to enter your story, then you may choose to include him as long as you and the patron collaborate and agree. 90% of your time, you should focus on your own character and the creation of NPC characters that you can focus on.

Real time cause and effect

If you are in the same room as another patron, that patron must include whatever action you just did in their next story (If you did anything that anybody would notice.)

Current Events

Current events are incidents or actions that happen in the bar at one time or another. The Patrons in the bar may choose to include whatever action has just happened (before, after, or during) such as a bar fight, a song playing or anything else that happens. Check the Current affair board at the bottom to see what has happened.

Patron Last seen..
Jackson Miller
Last seen in the Main Room, drinking in a corner.
Nero
Last seen waiting in the Backroom at the bar for someone.
Barty Gabble

 

Archie

 

Last seen waiting outside in the Backalley.

 

Last seen relaxing in the Main Room.

Lee Vincenzo

 

 

Elmo Snow

 

Last seen with Elmo Snow and Paddy in Second floor Storage.

 

Last seen knocked out in the Second floor Storage Room with Lee Vincenzo and Paddy the owner.

Carson De Luca

 

Last seen in the Backroom at the bar.
Todd Hoffman
Last seen in the Main Room at the Bar.
Blind Willie Shortbread
Last seen talking to Nero.
Amani "The Warlord" Wilson
Last seen in the Main Room at the Bar.
John Wilson
Last seen passed out in the ground floor toilets.
Marlon Richman
Last seen in the Main Room at the Bar.
Adam McCormick
Last seen in the Main Room at the Bar consoling a suicidal man.
Andre Philp Willis
Last seen at home, crying.
Howard Scrudder
Last seen embracing Maria in her home.
Edited by Craig

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Rhoda

"Modesto" Jessie Dennis wiped free sweat from his brow. Sat on the bus from his latest magic performance, the crowd hadn't been what you'd call kind. It was going fine until the fire in a basket routine, and then a woman in the front row decided she was against cruelty to wicker. Jessie was sure it was a ruse, maybe even a set-up from the event staff who hated him down to the very fibre of their follicles. Either way, she made no mistake of making her way up on stage and throwing herself on the burning basket. The crowd cheered and gasped, assuming it was part of the act. It wasn't. All "Modesto" could do was stand there, when Jessie actually wanted to break down as his semi-professional magical career went down the toilet. In his twelve year adventure, he had held his breath for over an hour, been impaled by plastic cutlery by eager party-going children, made a Vietnamese man disappear and turned a rabbit inside out. Nothing like this had ever happened, and all the former "Modesto" could do was cower in fear as the appreciative crowd quickly morphed into an angry mob at the sight of an old woman writhing around in pain on the floor, molten wicker clinging to her like a koala bear.

 

He needed a drink, that much was certain. With a lurch, Jessie was up and making his way down the aisle of the bus, trunk of party tricks thudding against his thighs as he pulled it along. It was late, with mothers clicking their tongues and rolling their eyes at this lowlife with a top hat. Eventually, after what seemed like a corridor of trial, Jessie reached the front cabin where a disinterested bus driver sat, more interested in counting the miles left.

 

"Excuse me, sir".

There wasn't a response.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't make me tap the sign, son," came a curt reply from the bus driver, who seemed to have inherited his voice from a fallen grizzly.

"I'm sorry but I was just wondering," Jessie said, clearing his throat, "is there anywhere around here a fellow might grab a drink?"

The bus driver glanced over with a tired expression, like a cow looking into the path of an oncoming train.

"Sure, there's a bar near the exit. There's a stop nearby. It's a rough crowd though... you might want to remove your hat."

Jessie had forgotten he was even wearing it.

"It's gone," he said a little too quickly, casting it aside and hitting a gentleman reading a magazine in the face. Jessie hadn't even noticed, his gaze fixed upon the driver eager for more information.

"There's a motel nearby too in case you get a little too, er," the bus driver looked Jessie up and down, "...fragile, shall we say."

 

By the time Jessie had found his wallet, his stop had arrived. He pulled his trunk of tricks along with him, the wheels tickling his heels. With a broken neon light, the bar greeted him.

 

"If things get a little rough," said Jessie to himself, "I can just break out some smoke bombs and slip out of the window."

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AceRay

 

Lee

 

Lee stared at the gun lying innocently there on the ground, almost taunting him with its gaze. He picked up the grey gun with his soft hands. Looked down the barrel; a giddy feeling inside Lee lite up, like a kid in a candy shop. His head turned like a dart to the old man lying there muttering to himself. In a flash, Lee bolted out the door with the .357 concealed in his jacket and the bullets bouncing around in his pocket.

 

The only other place he could think of that wasn’t used was the downstairs bathroom. He dashed into the door, seeing Paddy walk into the mainroom in front. The sh*t hole was bare, except for another passed out guy on the flor. Lee rushed over to the mirror, door slamming behind, and stared at the reflection long and hard, clasping onto the bench and leaning over the stained sink. Tired, worn out face, greasy blonde hair. He hated it all. His hands shaking like crazy, Lee loaded the gun one bullet by one, a small tear falling down his face as he sniveled like never before. He took one look around at the smelling stench of the toilets and the guy lying there innocently before swallowing his gun, locked and loaded. Shut his eyes in preparation of the loud, noisy bang. His hands started to pull on the trigger.

 

It never came. Lee couldn’t bring himself to do it. He wasn’t there, yet. Placing the gun back on the bench, Lee stared at himself some more.

 

Lee: Last seen in the first floor bathroom.

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Vercetti21

People looked the other way the moment they saw the wooden crucifix dangling from Jack Sinatra's neck. He took a seat at the bar and kept his mouth shut, ordering a tall draft beer with a crooked smile.

 

He sensed the uneasiness. He knew they didn't want him there. He felt the invisible stones being thrown at him.

 

The bartender, a petite tattooed fireball named Mitsy simply rolled her eyes as she filled Jack's glass. She took a step back from the bar as he slid a debit card towards her from across the counter. She looked at the card, then to Jack. "Not from around here, are you?"

 

As she sliced the card through the scanner and waited for his receipt to print, Jack touched the cold glass to his lips. "Close enough to know where your accent's from. Liverpool?"

 

Though she had a girlfriend, Mitsy couldn't help but send a quick smile towards the young gentleman. Though he clearly wasn't British or even European for that matter, he showed his ear for attentiveness and an interest in her unlike the other men. He wasn't obnoxious or funny or horny, only curious. She watched him take a few more sips from his glass, his eyes drooping and weary. His muscled frame clenched the beer and tilted it to the back of his throat, like a skeleton funneling ale through his mouth to wash out his ribs.

 

She nodded, pulling a glass from beneath the bar to clean with a dry towel. Before attending to another patron who approached her for a drink, she caught herself looking at Jack's crucifix again. He drank his beer calmly in the corner, but his mind turned through pages and pages of insecurities and doubts. He drank and drank until it was time to order another beer. Then he cleared his throat, and spoke up.

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Mr.Funny12

 

Speedy

 

Speed's heart rate finally calmed down. He had escaped his captives and that horrid prison they kept him in. He was in a highly elevated position looking down upon the town. The air was cold, and it seemed be only getting colder. Speedy searched for a way of the roof of which he was on. "A ha!" speedy thinks to himself when he see's the gutter. He scurries over to the opening of the gutter. He looks in and see's nothing but a dark whole. In his head he thought about what choices he had. Be held captive again, die on this roof or plunge into the darkness. He dove.

 

At the bottom, he squeezed out onto the sidewalk. He was spooked at the sound of the footsteps of the apes. He saw a sewer and bolted for it. He squeezed between into it and took cover there. "It's cold, I need a place to stay..." wen't through his head. He looked towards some apartments. "No" he thought remembering that when most people saw creatures such as himself they usually were scared and tried to kill him. He looked to a resteraunt up the street. Warm climate and food served and in the garbage. "No.." he then said to himself remembering that most diners had a lot of booby traps and poisonous treats laying around and only death would find him there. He looked towards the bridge. Under it, alone was a pub. "Perfect" wen't through his head. He used the sewer for cover almost the whole way there. He scurried into the back alley and waited under the dumpster until the right moment. The door swung open, his opportunity was there and he took it. Fast as lighting he ran into the pub without being seen. Immediately he saw apes all over the place. He quickly took cover behind a nearby jukebox inbetween it and the wall. For hours he spectated the joint, seeing where it would be the safest place for him to make a new home. Finally he saw a small crack in the wall near the bar. When the time was just right he ran as fast as he could for it. Upon entering the whole, heavy footsteps of a booted man passed by. Spooked and almost sure he was caught he tempted to defend himself and get against the wall in hopes of the ape not being able to reach him. He waited but nothing ever happened. He soon realized that this whole in the wall was pretty roomy. He has room for food, and possibly to sleep and was pleased with such a roomy to home. He soon received a chill and curled into a ball. His eyes slowly lowered and soon he was fast asleep.

 

 

When he woke up, he took a look around. Nobody was around and he spotted something he thought was too perfect too pass up. A napkin. It was just feet outside the whole and it was just what he was looking for. He snatched it and dragged in back in through the whole in the wall into his new home. He soon grabbed it and shredded it a little bit. He then curled it into a circle, and made a formidable bed out of it. "Life is good, things truly are looking up from here" he thought. He nestled into his new bed and relaxed for a while. "What else do I need now?" he thought to himself. Instantaneously "Food!" popped into his head.

 

Speedy: Last seen in the backroom.

Edited by Mr.Funny12

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Greenline

 

Patricia Reed

 

The First day for Patricia in The Bar. She took a deep, soothing breath before she entered the Backroom, ready to start her work. The sound of whistles and the smell of beer decorated her first impression.

 

"Hey sexy," slurred one of the patrons, "they call me Dead Eye."

 

"Good for you." Answered the sexy, feminine voice that Patricia was so lucky to own.

 

Patricia wasn't like the other patrons, she was here to work. She was a stripper, just the right stripper for the kind of men who came here. A young girl with the most perfect facial symmetry, and the best possible body; she was there to entertain and keep the patrons in The Bar, and make sure they won't leave anytime soon. But her intentions were completely different...

 

She entered the dressing room - better known as the most isolated part of the backroom - and began to take her cellphone out of her pocket.

 

"I'm in." She said.

 

"Good, his name is Jack... Jack Sinatra." Came the answer.

 

"Got it, he won't ever see this sh*thole from the outside again." Assured Patricia's strong voice.

 

"Remember, don't break character and make sure to make it look like an accident!"

 

"Wilco."

 

Patricia: Last seen in Backroom.

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Mokrie Dela

Marlon's next visit had him in a strange mood. He'd spent the drive home stuck in traffic. It was a warm day and beside him for forty minutes next to a convertable with a chesty blond in the front seat. The result was that, thought still self destructive, he was horny. On top of that, the traffic had pissed him off. He was ready to mow someone down.

 

The bar greeted him with the usual atmosphere, one that matched his mood.

He moved to the bar and had a drink. Again he spoke to no one. He considered hiring a prostitute, but he didn't deserve it, did he? The pleasures of the skin.... wasn't that his problem?

 

The door opened and closed. The gust of now-cool air following in another lowlife patron.

The scent stabbed at his attention though, the sharp muskiness that somehow made him even more desperate for coital companionship. He turned.

 

The woman was leggy, with a nice body. Her ass seemed tight, and he just wanted to bite it.

 

The woman looked at him, with a playful look, and Marlon, already slightly inhebriated, stood shakily. He approached her but she ignored him. He noticed her pause by the door, but, after a second, entered the back room. Marlon followed.

 

"Hey sexy," A man said with a surly twang in his voice. "They call me Dead Eye."

"Good for you." Her voice was as sexy as her appearance. She walked on.

Marlon moved toward 'Dead Eye' and got right in his face. He reached down and reached out for the man's groin.

"Back off." Marlon snarled through gritted teeth as he twisted. 'Dead Eye' went down.

 

The woman entered through a doorway. He was going to get lucky - to hell with whether he deserved it or not, he wanted it.

 

After a short delay, Marlon followed the woman into the room...

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Rhoda

I was a good chunk of the way through updating the first post but messed a bit of the code up and couldn't see where because I don't understand tables at all, so I just left it. Sorry. I'm fine maintaining existing table fields, but adding new ones and feeling confident about it? Not my bag, it turns out. confused.gif

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Ziggy455

 

I was a good chunk of the way through updating the first post but messed a bit of the code up and couldn't see where because I don't understand tables at all, so I just left it. Sorry. I'm fine maintaining existing table fields, but adding new ones and feeling confident about it? Not my bag, it turns out. confused.gif

Not a problem, brother. I'm all good with the coding. monocle.gif

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Vercetti21

Jack Sinatra was pissing in the dark. That's the expression he liked to use when when he was facing walls of work in the file room. Jack was the expert prowler. They called him names like "Panther" and "Tiger" at work, but he stuck it out through their cheap laughs and fake smiles for the money they threw at him. Every once in awhile there was one rogue manilla folder of utmost importance to be found, or a female client to be charmed and sold to the uptown lawyers he worked for. Now, the musty stench of the pitch-black bathroom was unshakable. He actually was pissing in the dark.

 

As his eyes began to painfully adjust, Jack grinned at the failure of such simple technology as a light bulb. Flies buzzed around the single flickering light, casting pale grey flashes of the graffiti covering the walls. Had there been a power surge? Had someone smashed the light?

 

Jack stumbled out of the darkness of the downstairs toilets, quickly running soap and water over his hands before using a paper towel to open the door. The nauseating scent of the bathroom followed him down the back hall. He passed unknown faces and beautiful women; the scent of sex and candy and disease lingered in his mind.

 

After two drinks and a proper piss, Jack went out to the back alley and pinched a smoke between his teeth when a stranger asked to bum a cigarette from him. He obliged, because it was one less cigarette away from death.

 

The stranger exchanged pleasantries with Jack. When they asked if he was related to Frank Sinatra - "like the singer!" - Jack decided to light one up anyway.

Edited by Vercetti21

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Mr.Funny12

Speedy felt hungry. His eyes darted around the bar wondering where he could find food. After a few minutes of watching the crowd he saw a piece of bread get dropped and strike the floor. With his eyes locked, his stomach growling he darted for it without care for who would see him. He snatched it, and began dragging it by his teeth back to his new home. He got it just outside the whole in the wall when he saw somebody coming. He sprang up and ran inside his house. Sure he was seen, he took cover in his whole in the wall. The man walked up, Speedy was sure that his new home was compromised. The man took a knee, and picked up the piece of bread outside his door. Feeling utter defeat, he held himself back from attacking the thief. He knew doing that would be certain death and he'd be evicted from his new home. His muscles soon went weak. "All that effort for what?" he began to think. Depressed, he laid down.

 

He saw a piece of cheese drop on to the floor in front of his door. "No way!" he thought. "This has to be a booby trap." He knew there wasn't a lucky chance like this. His stomach growled, and he decided he had to eat. He popped his head out of the whole in the wall. He took a look around. A few men at the bar and one sitting in the booth in the back. He ran out, grabbed the cheese and ran back inside. He stood on his back feet, up right with the cheese in his hands. He nibbled on it, tasting first. After finishing he realized he should have saved it. Out of no where another piece of cheese hit the floor in the same spot. Now he was suspicious, he knew that was too good to be true. But his hunger was growing. He looked out. He saw a patron at the bar who was looking in his direction. "Was this guy friendly? Was he one that wouldn't tell anyone about me?" I'll test it a bit, and make sure he's cool. He walked out slowly and grabbed the cheese. He brought it back into his house. This time he put it off in the corner. He had food, a bed and a new warm home. "Life is good" went through his head.

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Greenline

Patricia was putting her cellphone back into her purse when she heard the door of the dressing room open.

 

"Piss --," She remembered that she had to stay in character, "Oh hi there, what's your name?"

 

"Marlon." The man said, you could tell he was tipsy because of his posture.

 

"Don't you think you didn't choose the right time to come here? I was getting dressed." She said with an incredibly fake smile and a tone in her voice that would make the worst actors cringe.

 

"So, let's get to business!" Came Marlon's answer.

 

Patricia was nervous, she thought that she was caught, but as soon as she remembered that she was a stripper, she calmed down.

 

"Well, how much does buisiness cost for you?..."

 

She thought about all the possibilities, all the information she could extract from this guy about Jack Sinatra. Because, so far, her case was in a miserable state. She didn't have the slightest idea what Jack looks like or where he is, for that matter. She just knew that Jack was in the bar... and that she was supposed to end his life.

Edited by Greenline

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SCAR Cheatulies

Minnie Ache entered the Main Room of The Bar before casting a slow glance around the building he just entered. His gaze was as cold as a winter night in New York, more solid than the most frozen block of ice, and more expressionless than a hipster's painting. His eyes were unblinking as he scanned the entirety of the room, but underneath his eyes were dark, black circles, giving evidence to the fact that he may not have gotten much sleep recently. His facial expression was mostly blank, if not serious and somewhat angry, appearing to be the type of man that any normal person wouldn't want to mess with. But if one was able to easily read the emotions of others, if his eyes were looked into, someone may have been able to see just a hint of nervousness from him.

 

For what he planned on doing, it only made sense as to why this man was nervous. He lead an unlucky streak through much of his miserable, unfortunate life. It started when he was born, whenever his mother, Misses Ache, was expecting a girl, but got a boy and decided to name him as a female anyways. This continued on through school, where he was constantly made fun of because of his name. After graduation, he was able to go through college easily enough and major with a business associate's degree, but he then got a job as a stock broker in a stock company that was illegally selling fake stock to innocent people, ruining their lives, which he was completely aware of, but felt guilty about.

 

His guilt lead to a major drug addiction, with his poison of choice being pain killers. He would go through one or two bottles a day, and was honestly expecting to have major kidney failure before the thirty-something year old reached fifty. But tonight, any luck he had would end. His drug dealer was killed in a raid on his apartment the day before, and Minnie only had one bottle left in his left pocket. His last name, Ache, was fitting for him.

 

Minnie looked the part of the stereotypical business man, wearing dress shoes, black slacks, and a white business shirt with a grey tie on, a black trench coat on over that. His beretta stirred nervously under his coat, but it was too late, for the bar door closed shut behind him, and he was in for the ride. He stayed silent, still looking about the room for a minute or so, before then walking over to sit in a booth at one corner of the room. If there was no booth, then it would be a corner table. His eyes continued to look around, waiting for the perfect opportunity to make a move.

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glenn tha killer

Andre woke, went into the bathroom of his empty apartment he called home. He shaved and tied his dreads up. He looked in the mirror, his dark eyes glared back at him. "f*ck!" he screamed. He was sick of the depressing, angry macho sh*t. Today was a new day, a fresh start.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

He picked up his phone text-ed some friends got dressed and headed out the door. The day was great, what he needed. When he was on his way home, on a bus he saw that strange bar again. Last time he went looking for it he couldn't find the place. Without waiting any further he pressed the stop button and got off. He quickly crossed the street and entered the pub. He took a nice seat in the corner. He had a bottle of pisswaffe and chilled out.

 

After a while he began to get cold and looked through the door leading into the back room. He saw a man sleeping ruff snuggled up in a corner. There was a few other odd looking characters in the room, but he decided to go for it. He moved into the back room. He had only sat down when his phone began to ring, a man shot a nasty look at him, but he ignored it. The person on the phone wasnt answering and he began to beckon "hello hello can you here me!".The guy in the corner also gave him a horrible glare.Andre decided it was best to go out to the back alley, however he accidentally bumped into a rather buff man. "Sorry man" Andre yelled as he went out the door..............

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Mr.Funny12

If your referring to me as the man sleeping in the corner, my character is a mouse.

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Mokrie Dela

They'd agreed on a price and with no one else to spend his money on, Marlon agreed. He could feel, in the back of his head, the faintness, but he was determined not to pass out. To hell with karma, or what he deserved, if fate would hunt him down and make him pay for what he did, so be it, but first he was going to have some fun. A last meal, perhaps.

 

She began swaying, her hands touching her hips and thighs with the slightest of touches. Marlon stared through a face hazy from alcohol, his eyes enchanted by her smooth skin. Her legs were free of blemishes, obviously waxed, not shaved. Marlon wondered how far the grooming went. He imagined what lay behind her underwear, but commanded patience of himself. Not yet.

 

The stripper - whatever she was - began toying with her clothes, thumbing at the straps. Marlon felt the natural and inevitable phsycal reaction as well as a fluttering in his chest. He was no virgin - that was his problem wasnt it? - but it had been a long time since he'd felt excitement, at least like this. He felt his hands buzz.

The woman moved in an gave him a lapdance, a personal one on one giration. He felt the tingling downstairs, and now his breathing was shallow, his heart beating fast.

 

"You come here often?" She asked, straddling his legs, her back to him, arching her head backward to face him.

"Yeah." Marlon said to the upside down face.

 

The woman shook her head, her hair stroking Marlon's face. She turned and belly-danced in his face. He could see the golden glow of her stomach, and he reached out.

Her naval was tight but soft. Toned. Perfect. He gasped, having been unconsciously holding his breath.

"You alone? No friends wanting to join in?"

"Just me." He whispered.

"What about a man called Sinatra?"

Marlon frowned. "Frank?"

"No..."

"I don't know anyone called Sinatra."

 

Patricia was no stranger to using what she had to her advantage. She learnt to read men - they were so easy to read. Like large print books for children. So. Damned. Easy.

But this man? He was not lying. She'd tried to get information out of the wrong man.

But, she realised, he was minutes from passing out. He wouldn't remember....

 

She stood. "That's your lot."

Marlon blinked. "Nah-uh." He stood too, draping a hand gently round her neck.

 

Some men simply had the touch. And Patricia breathed in pleasure. But she took control of herself and stepped back. She hadn't realised Marlon's hand by her strap, which broke.

"Oh, beautiful." He said tenderly as her breasts were exposed. He cupped one, feeling the soft, silky smooth skin, and the slightly firm sponginess of it.

 

Patricia tried to step back, but she'd run out of space. "I'm not kidding, buster, that's it."

 

Marlon shook his head and, with the weight advantage, spun her round, laying her on a table of some sort. He tore off her underwear and was rewarded with a well groomed prize.

He dropped his trousers too, stroking his hand over her breasts and down her stomach. He leant in as the woman's eyes went wide... He didn't see the object that she'd grabbed in her desperate haste.

 

Marlon felt heaven, as the warm smoothness welcomed him. Chills shot up his spine as his stomach met hers. A warmness enveloped him, and he breathed out in ecstacy.

 

Then, with an unwelcome and unexpected pound, his world went black.

 

 

Marlon's status: Unconscious.

Edited by Mokrie Dela

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glenn tha killer
If your referring to me as the man sleeping in the corner, my character is a mouse.

What is the point in that? A paranoid mouse? lol.gif Anyway ill edit that out next time im on my computer. Sorry. icon14.gif

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Mr.Funny12
If your referring to me as the man sleeping in the corner, my character is a mouse.

What is the point in that? A paranoid mouse? lol.gif Anyway ill edit that out next time im on my computer. Sorry. icon14.gif

A paranoid mouse? No mice are afriad of humans. If I was referring to a human in my stories then that wouldn't make any sense at all.

 

No biggy just a heads up.

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glenn tha killer

Update? Anytime soon?

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Ziggy455

I understand that activity in The Bar has dropped; something that I must personally apologize for. Here are my reasons:

 

For the last few months I was given the grave news that my grandmother was dying from both Brain and Lung cancer. So, dropping my Media studies (The year was dwindling near an end, and I cut it short with good grades until next year) I moved in with my grandmother. What she is suffering from is a debilitating illness, she can't walk, she can barely talk, and to be honest it f*cks with my head to see her like this. I have been looking after her 24/7, non-stop for a while and it has cut me off from everything as I do so. So as you'll notice my activity on GTAForums as a whole is completely lacking. You will notice I have not uploaded any revised stories, I have not updated the bar or even been online much. My inbox is full of PMs asking me to be more active but in the end, I felt that this explanation was needed to explain that at the moment, management is being suspended and I will not be online until the inevitable happens and I have finished this awful business.

 

I apologize.

 

- Ziggy.

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waxman.

Todd had been gasing at the seat in front of him, he had forgot the time. He looked down at his wrist watch.

 

"Where in the hell is Jack," he muttered.

 

Todd had been expecting an old friend of his who worked in the mines a few years back. Long story short, Jack moved to New York to invest in the stocks. He was in need of Todd's help. Jack wanted to meet half way, which seemed reasonable to him.

 

It was getting late and he had been offered many beers, but put them aside. He tapped his thumb violenty on the table and frantically scratched his forehead.

 

'It's hot in here'

 

Smoke from the smoke machine covered the stage were a band played. Todd wished he was out on the dance floor with all them beautiful women. He had no time for women but after leaving the West Coast, anything was possible.

 

A barmaid strutted over to him with a cold beer. She stared down at him and pulled a cheeky smile. Her dress seemed skimpy but Todd was in the mood. His eyes darted around her body; from her smile, all the way down to her frilly short skirt.

 

"I had no idea I was at Hooters," Todd joked.

 

She bent down and gave him the glass of beer. He couldn't help but stare at her clevlage.

 

"I wish," she said.

 

Todd continued waiting for Jack.

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glenn tha killer

I hope the best man. My bro and sis are in similar situations although me, my Mother and father are taking care of them. I can`t imagine what its like alone trying to do it. Best of look man, I hope everything is as easy as it can be for your whole family and your grandmother. icon14.gif

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Dr-Mayhem111

Vincent "Hulk" Jenko walks into the bar along with his brother Robert "Spike" Jenko. It is their first time coming at that bar, because they lived miles and miles away from the location. They find a available booth and they take it and order two jugs of Budweiser. They converse about their young days as soon as their drinks arrived.

 

"Hey Spike, do you remember back in '89 we would always go to the Jackson Corner Bar in Downtown after a big game?" Vin asked.

"How can I forget, our fake IDs worked everytime. I remember our last game, Lincoln Crusaders against the Ferris Mohawks. We won with 7 points ahead." Robert replied.

"2 minute warning, we were tied, we had one more chance to score. We called Python Path and it got us the touchdown." Vin said.

"I remember Davis was so confused when I hit that juke and pitching the ball to you giving you a clear path to the touchdown." Robert said.

"After that game they renamed the play the Hulk and Spike Tag." Vin said.

"Those were good times, and now look at us. Sometimes I wish I could time travel back to 1988 when that was rock n roll." Robert said.

"Cheers to that little bro." Vin replied.

 

The two remain talking and drinking at that same booth for a while until Spike wanted to put on some music. He gets up and walks over to the Jukebox and puts on Welcome to the Jungle by Guns N Roses.

 

"May the 80s remain in our mind until the we stop breathing." Robert shouted as he was walking back to his booth.

"Amen to that, I remember when that song came out. Tommy Samson was having that house party." Vin replied.

"It was a plot to get that girl ummmm what was her name.......... Veronica Zane." Robert said.

"She was one hell of a girl at that time, so hot and smart. She was way out Tommy's league." Vin replied.

"Tommy always wanted the hard to get chicks. Man that poor bastard, lets drink to him." Robert said.

"Rest in peace Tommy." Vin said as the two drink in Tommy's honor.

"The Party Monster himself had to end in a party.He was young and stupid but most of all, he was fun." Robert said.

"When I found out he died I was like, he probably died in a party. Turned out I was right." Vin replied.

"I just can't believe he OD'd on heroin. I never thought he would go that far." Robert said in a sad type manner.

"You know what he said."Vin said.

"If you can have fun with it, I'm in." Both said at the same time.

 

They continued to drink and talk about their old times.

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Mokrie Dela

Jimmy wondered how people did it. Even his lighter version was horrid. He stood there as everyone else sat. Why don't I get a chair? It didn't matter that he had things to do, he simply didn't want to do them. He wanted to be at home, playing his video games, watching films, seeing his girlfriend. Yes, he'd somehow got a girlfriend, after six years of longing for one. Companionship. Relationship. Was there a difference? Apparantly not. How he'd landed he he didn't know. She was plain to look at - but that only made her more attractive to him. He eyes were always bright, even when she was sad. She wore the puppy dog look naturally. At times she'd look up - he was taller than her - and remind him of a Sand Cat, the wild feline that's self defence technique was an overflow of cuteness, their heads slightly too large for their bodies, their posture so child-like. They looked like kittens, despite being fully grown. Somehow he'd picked that human Sand Cat up. She was petite with a nice body - not toned, but not fat. Her skin so smooth....

And his job, he'd landed that with the same inexplicable luck. God knows how, but he did sixteen hours a week. It was enough for him, though she always wanted more. More money, more hours. Why did eveyone demand that people had to waste ninty-nine percent of their life at work? Who's life was it after all?

 

He watched the girl as she walked around, eventually heading in through a door and out of sight. A drunk man followed, his tongue practically on the floor.

I don't blame you pal. Although he had a girlfriend, and regularly stripped her to make love to or to f*ck - there was a difference - he still looked at other girls. He wished it wasn't taboo to sleep with any girl you saw while in a relationship. He wanted everyone. The clothes they wore didn't help, though he wouldnt want them to cover up. Working in a bar only made it worse. Would he get fired if he took some of these girls out back, in more ways than one?

 

Someone ordered a drink, to Jimmy's disgust. He was getting paid for it but he didn't want the work, just the money. On bad days he deliberately messed with people's drinks.

"A beer and a white wine spritzer." Sure thing, pal. Here's your beer, and for the lady, wine, lemonade and vodka. A few of these and she'll be all over you. It never occured to him that he should mess with both drinks - actually, no it had. He now eyed the couple, the blonde who really had no point in wearing that top, her tits were pretty much out anyway, and those shorts were so short they served no purpose. She was drunk, kissing and - oh come on! Her hand was now touching his crotch under the table. Jimmy could see the man's pants buldge. Why can't that be me!?

 

Another customer, another drink another sigh. He checked the time. half hour till he's done. He wondered if he could pick up any of these drunk girls. F*ck knows he never had a chance with the sober ones.

 

Where did that stripper girl go? No one identified the look in his eye, the overpowering lust that often made him contemplate one of the worst crimes a man can commit.

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Greenline

Patricia felt relieved. She managed to escape from Marlon, but she knew she would not be able to escape the trauma that came with it. She sat on a rather old chair next to Marlon's unconscious body and took out her cellphone.

 

"Did you see that?!", she said without waiting for a greeting.

 

"Yes we did, Patricia. We -", he was interrupted, "So, why the f*ck don't you come and help? Isn't this why I have a camera?"

 

"Because that would have compromised us. That is not how we work!", followed a loud sigh. "Do what you have to do. Make it look like an accident. Get out and focus."

 

"Easy for you t - ...", the man hung up.

 

Patricia began to dress as she mumbled what seemed like every single profanity in the English language. She placed a random bottle of rum in Marlon's hand. Hoping that he'd think he'd drunk to much. Hoping that he forgot.

 

Patricia left the dressing area and entered the back room...

 

Current Position: Backroom.

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Mokrie Dela

The woman danced in front of him, her hair leaving trails of color as it waved. Suddenly the image faded, and all that remained was a horrible feeling in his gut. His eyes opened in the dark room and he sat up. He felt ill... like...

 

Jimmy was watching the couple leave, wishing he could be in that man's shoes. He never questioned why he wanted to have sex with every woman he saw. He assumed he just had a high sex drive.

But once again his inconsiderate job got in the way. The door to his right flung open and a man ran out. Immediately he stopped and stepped back, as if he'd run into an invisible wall. Jimmy didn't laugh. The man shook his head and began to act drunk. Yeah, right pal.

 

Marlonwas hit by the lights, as they tore holes into his eyes. He'd no idea where the rum had come from - he hated the stuff - but right now he was about to sh*t himself. He stumbled into the blinding haze and managed to find his way to the bathroom.

 

Twenty Minutes, Jimmy said to himself as the man exited the bathroom, looking pale. What the f*ck did you eat?!

The bar door opened and another woman entered. Jimmy had to exercise some self control to not start drooling.

 

"So this is where you hang out, is it?" The woman looked pissed - at Marlon. The words sounded like overdriven bass coming out of cheap speakers. Distorted. Growley.

"Keep it down..." Marlon tried to say calmy. His voice was harsh, his throat dry. He waved at the barman and asked for a drink of water.

 

Water? In a goddamned bar!? Give me a break! But Jimmy got the man a glass anyway. He hadn't served him before, but he'd seen the man there, paying no mind to him. Now the man downed the free water - free! - as Jimmy stared at the woman.

 

"You just don't care do you?" Why the hell was she here?

"Leave me alone." Marlon whispered. Suddenly he felt drunk again. He didn't know it but the spirits had fermented in his stomach, the water diluting them and making him drunk again. Drunk and hungover. "You don't need to tell me - i know what i did, i was wrong, ok? I don't deserve to - "

"Wrong?! Wrong!? You were more than wrong! God Damn it Marlon, that's all you can say? I've spent the last week trying to find you. Somehow i keep missing you at work."

That's deliberate, Marlon didn't say. He was avoiding her. But the glimmer of hope was there. Was he forgiven?

No:"I've been to the police. They're looking for you." Marlon wasn't stupid enough to think this was a good thing. She wasnt giving him a chance to flee, she was giving him a chance to be scared. Time to answer up to things.

 

Jimmy's job was back. He had to end this didn't he?

"Ma'am, I'm sorry but could you keep it down? I don't care what's going on but take it outside yeah?"

"Forget it, I'm done here. See you in hell, Marlon."

The woman stormed out and Marlon merely sat on a stood. The patrons turned back to their drinks.

Jimmy looked at the time. Close enough. He exited the bar and began to follow the woman. Five seconds later, Marlon did the same.

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Shiva.

I think, I'm the late one here.

Tom Chist decided to get in combat with the guy who was following him for almost a hour but on seeing the sheriff standing near the entrance of the bar, he abandoned his SUPER HERO intentions. He decided to have a drink in the bar so he approached the bar. He stepped in. People seemed to have fun inside. No one seemed to care about his arrival. He walked towards the bartender and took a seat. He looked back to check if the man's still following him. As he had expected, the man was staning near the pool table staring at Tom.

"what would you like to have, sir ? " The Bartedner asked.

"Beer" Tom replied.

The Bartender pulled out a beer bottle from the fridge and gave it to Tom. Tom gulped down the beer and looked back again. The man was still staring at Tom. Tom placed the bottle on the table and stood. He wanted to get in a brawl with the man but the rules of the bar came to his mind. A plan came to his mind. He looked are around for a toilet and saw the ground floor toilet. He took a deep breath and walked towards the bathroom. He looked back again. The man was already on his move towards the bathroom.

"Yeah, get your ugly dick in here" Tom thought and stepped into the bathroom and waited for the man.

Last seen in: Ground floor bathroom

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AceRay

Well, back here again. Lets get this going again!

-

A hazy mist overlays the gloomy 50s street, casting dark figures and ghostly shadows. Sweet shops and groceries line the road, lampposts every hundred feet and a sleek new Cadillac rolls down.

 

All Elmo can see are the Bachman twins, leaning against their shiny Black Buick, laughing as they fiddle with their switch blades and comb their greasy hair. Elmo always thought they were tossers, always shouting for attention. When he was 14, they were stealing hubcaps daily, bragging about it to their mates. Lyle, the slightly taller, better looking one, told a few tales where he was the hero and Joe chortled in unison, his round face jiggling with every laugh. And here they were again, like Elmo always remembers them to be, leaning against the Buick.

 

Elmo never took their boasts seriously, that is, until September 1958. After a few stints in jail, the dui got into B&Es quite a bit. Take little something here, a little something there, just for laughs. Elmo pitied their criminal lifestyle, although as he was just a shop clerk, he wasn’t much better off. They ignored him and he ignored them until they decided to break and enter the wrong house.

 

The Snow family heirlooms were gone. Mother’s rings and jewellery were nowhere to be seen. She was in shock, had a fit. It made Elmo very, very mad. So one day, he pulled out his dad’s pistol and aimed to get back at them.

 

That’s where he saw them. On that street, laughing and singing without a care in the world. Elmo, wearing his coat and working pants, strolled over to the pair, the gun in his pocket. Lyle saw him immediately, approached.

 

“What you doing here, twinkle toes?” Elmo shot Joe right after he said those words. Lyle screeched in panic and turned to run but got shot down, hitting the side of the car. Elmo, stood there, looking at the bodies, hearing police sirens in the distance. Then, everything went dark.

 

As Elmo woke up, he saw a dark figure standing over him. He couldn’t see who it was and squinted his eyes to see...

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Greenline

Patricia left the back room and made her way to the front door of the bar. She opened the squeaky old door and entered the street.

 

"Why're you leaving, sweetheart?", she heard a blond tattooed girl say as she exited.

 

"sh*t, sh*t, sh*t. They will not like this, they won't like this at-f*cking-all", she thought.

 

She entered her car and took a quick look into her mirrors while adjusting them. She saw the bartender, Jimmy, enter a cheap Ford Fiesta.

 

"f*ck, is he following me now?", she said out loud while deciding what to do.

 

She started the car and drove off, hoping to loose the bartender somewhere in this damned city. The well built woman made drove towards an intersection, hoping to find her way to her Hotel before the clock hit 12. She wanted to make sure that they wouldn't force her to stay in this sh*thole. Sinatra had to be taken care of by some other poor sack of sh*t, this one definitely couldn't do it, and she didn't want to either.

 

Another quick look in her mirror revealed the Fiesta right behind him.

 

"He's not even trying to hide from me either.", she mumbled. "Who the f*ck is he? Why the f*ck is Marlon here?"

 

Tears collected in her eyes. She kept repeating to herself how this will all be over soon. But she was overwhelmed, and she was *this* close to breaking under the amazing amount of pressure put on her fragile shoulders. She wanted out, but it was too late.

 

Current Position: Redstone Street, in her car.

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Mokrie Dela

That ass! Jimmy said to himself, watching the peaches swaying in the man-made twilight. It had been raining, and her footsteps had that wet click-clack to them as her heels met with the pavement.

Her figure was subtle, but no less sexy. He'd seen her cleavage, and imagined placing himself in between them, both facially and more primitively. The images that flooded his mind did little to dampen his appetite. Soon though, his meal would be in front of him.

 

Marlon could just about see the man ahead - he had fallen back too much. He knew he was a bad man, he knew he was not worthy of redemption, but he was still human. He might have been the worst person in the world, but he still loved her.

 

Her choice was the wrong one. The train station was near, Jimmy knew, but instead of walking the four minute journey to the front entrance - the safer route - she'd elected to cut through an alleyway, cutting three minutes off of the journey. But that meant going down that architypical alleyway, then a small empty lot, through a foreboding subway under the rail.... Perfect

 

 

Her scream was muffled by his hand, and her skin felt silky smooth. So cold. His fingertips touched the flesh with the respect she deserved - such a pretty thing shouldnt be mishandled. His breathing became unsteady, his body tingling with excitment.

Her avoided her eyes, knowing that they contradicted the image of beauty in front of him. She was beautiful, and she had to be his.

 

Marlon had lost them. They'd turned a corner and disappeared. He stood there, looking around, remembering where they - she - lived. Too far to walk... The train... Wait....

 

The breasts were as perfect as he'd imagined. As the bra was torn apart, they didn't fall down. They stood proud, teasing him. come get me. He did, leaning in with his mouth first before stroking her skin, blue under the night-time light.

 

Marlon had hurried down the alleyway. She wasn't that foolosh was she? Where was that barman?

 

It took his breath away. The warmth surrounded him at once, the silky wetness was welcoming, but the eyes were shut. His body shuddered and he rested his hand on her flat stomach. He stroked, feeling the perfect skin under his fingers, moving slowly, every act sending chills up his spine. She was naked now, and his fantasies of her grooming weren't far off. His heart was pounding, his body on fire. Dinner was served.

 

Marlon couldn't believe it. That man was doing that to her?! His feet now moved with speed, his hands no longer reaching for redemption, but for something else.

 

His eyes shut, he felt his meal slip away. Suddenly he cold feel the wind on him. He opened his eyes as he hit the ground and was aware of the man who'd tackled him.

Marlon stumbled to his feet, but Jimmy was quicker. He had grabbed her now, and was holding her by the throat with one hand. The other hand held something....

 

Jimy was angry. How dare this man interupt his feast?! What right did he have to do so?

 

"Let her go." Marlon said, his voice weak and his attempt to free her feeble.

 

"No..." Jimmy's voice was smooth and low. Almost devoid of emotion, despite the rage that was burning within. His knife-weilding hand stroked her breasts, tracing a line to her navel and even further.

 

Marlon lost it as the man's fingers disappeared. "You bastard!"

It was a mistake...

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