Jägermeister

JackAss' Pub:

"Oi, Jackass!!! One more Jack Daniels!!!"


The distinctly quaint tavern wasn't exactly the hotbed of debauched reprobates Ash was accustomed to associating himself with, but the rebellious youth figured out that many Japanese divebars could compare to the brand of seedy saloons and crooked cantina's he's usually wiled away the hours in. Throwing chumps through windows and smashing glass bottles over people's heads seeming like a distant memory now that's he's been making ends meet here in this country for the past few months. Ash having settled into his new life here making decent scratch in the underground fighting circuit after saying sayonara to his old biker gang over in the states, which he'd never admit to missing in his entire life. American wrestlers of his fighting caliber were actively sought after around here and offered primo coinage to bring the proverbial pain and/or pleasure. And if there were three things Ash doggeddly pursued and relished in, it was beer, bucks, and b*tches. Not necessarily in that order. Unfortunately, Ash was currently having issues securing one of those.

Ash:

"Whaddya mean you're gonna start cutting me off?! I'm gonna payoff my bar tab later this week, you know I'm good for it!!!" Ash pleaded his case to the bartender, colloquially known as JackAss, after being served what apparently was his first and only beer of the night. The blonde-haired biker seated before the bespectacled barkeep serving other patrons while keeping up with the conversation seamlessly. "Yeah I know you'll pay me back, that's why I'm fine with cutting you off!!! HA!!! Every month you fall behind on paying me your tab and we have this same conversation. You gotta learn some responsibility already, kiddo!!!" Jack remarked with a guffawed cackle into the echoed music playing over the jukebox. Scattered bar patrons offering clanging cheers of the beer mugs, playing pool, or watching baseball off a hanging television amongst plethora of other typical watering hole activities. "Come on man, I used the last of my cash on my sweet ass chopper. I've got some deals going down over the weekend, I'll be rolling in cash than!!!"

Sara was no stranger to witnessing disputes in backstreet bars. Cantankerous and rowdy customers who would often get too big for their britches, raving about their 'rights' as drunk patrons to enjoy a drink in solitude and peace. Except they were never the types to get wasted quietly. Hell, Wazy usually did a good job of keeping those types out of Trinity, but even then you still got the occasional loudmouth who needed to be put in their place. With polite and courtesy in mind, of course...but when that didn't work, Sara was allowed to get physical.

Sara:

This evening, she was trying to enjoy her own personal drink - perhaps with the added bonus of drawing the attention of a potential silver fox, but with no such luck. Instead, she was entertained with an nearby argument between the owner of the tavern and some young punk. The clank of tankards and loud voices made it difficult to catch every word of the conversation - but she could tell he was being denied a drink for some reason. Probably due to his age - he looked like a kid from where she was sitting, barely older than one of her students. Well, maybe she could help quell this disorderly blondie before he got even more worked up. She slid off her stool, pushing past the crowds to place a sympathetic hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Listen. I know it sucks to be underaged - trust me, I tried to sneak alcohol into my system all the time when I was a minor myself, but you can't take it out on this Jackass for wanting to keep hold of his license, yeah? Look, if you calm down, I'll buy you whatever you want. As long as it's legal." She winked at him with a smile. "What about root beer? Or maybe milk? I heard that's pretty good for a growing schoolboy like yourself..."

*...Ain't this just my luck? Can't believe this douchenozzel is holdin' out on me...* Ash's boiling temperament being tactfully restrained under the given circumstances as he grimaced and groused at the owner of this refined establishment servicing merry drunkards and degenerate scalawags from all wakes of life. The spiky-haired youth beginning to lament his impetuous decision to pimp out his motorcycle rather than payback old debts. Rash decisions being somewhat of a character flaw of his dating back to his days riding with the Red Constellation with other bikers constantly chastising him for his impulsive recklessness. Which he figured was saying something considering the source was a motley crew of ruffians and criminals. But he knew he'd make the money back after his next scheduled fight with his own dealings in the works...but much to his chagrin it looked like no matter how much he campaigned he'd be the only sober patron of the night.

"Whatha..." Ash jostled and swiveled his head towards Sara from the unexpected hand placed onto his shoulder, initially assuming it was some jackass (not the bartender) looking to get froggy...except he quirked his eyebrow at this lady butting herself into this conversation. Who was reading him the riot act and treating him like just some dumb kid trying to sneak out beers for his classmates outside somethin'. Unfortunately she was making several misunderstandings he was all too eager to correct. "Uh, listen lady. I dunno who you think you are, but the fact of the matter is that I'm more than old enough to drink as much booze as I want. Jack here is just hassling me about paying my tab." Jackass offering an affirming nod to corroborate Ash's story. ""But hey, no hard feelings. From what people tell me, eyesight is the first thing to deteriorate in your old age. Whaddya say I buy you some cranberry juice or a fruit smoothee? I hear that's perfect for ladies getting up there in years~..."

Well, it wouldn't be the first time that Sara had gotten the wrong end of the stick. Turns out this punk was actually old enough to get sloshed, and had racked up a pretty hefty tab as a result. "Oh, is that the case? Well, alright then. No hard feelings, as you say-

Then this rambunctious kid dropped the 'o' word on her.

'Old.'

'Old.'

'Old.'

One could practically see the steam hissing out of Sara's nose and ears. Her eyes bulging, her cheeks swelling like that of a pufferfish. Her bottle of beer was clenched in her hand, with such force it was a wonder it hadn't shattered in her grip. A siren was sounding in her mind, blaring through her head as she struggled to maintain composure and not explode in this arrogant chump's face. She did her best to resist the urge. She failed regardless.

"Who the HELL are you calling old, you smart-mouthed, penniless jackass?!" Sara yelled, attracting the attention of every other bargoer present as their heads swivelled around to the scene of the drama. She peered past Ash at the scowling bartender. "Er, not you. But listen here, kid. I'm plenty young, and also the sexiest number you'll ever lay your virgin eyes on! I might have a lot of experience on my resume from putting twerps like you in their place in the ring, but that doesn't make me old. Maybe if you actually acted your age, people wouldn't assume you were out buying your first drink! Now, take that remark back before I knock you flat out on your ass!"

Suffice to say that Ash may have crossed a few lines in his spiteful rebuttal back there, but considering he's currently dead broke and as a result has been bargaining with Jackass for the better part of an hour just to serve him one measly pint, Ash's believes he's been conducting himself rather cordially up till this point in the night. Ash showcasing his instinctive knack for getting underneath the skin of any semblance of authority figure even though he'd generously label Sara more of a cougar than anything else, it seemed. In any case, the spiky-haired delinquent returned his attention back towards Jackass after he served this intrusive blabbermouth some ironically titled burns which he rightfully assumed would get the teacher off his back. Only to quirk his eyebrow at the squinting bartender stepping back several paces and plugging his ears...

*WHATTHA FUCK?! THE HELL'S THE MATTER WITH THIS BROAD?!?!* Ash balking with gawking eyes at the enraged banshee practically screaming her goddamn head off at him, the delinquent tilting backward on his bar stool until he precariously balanced himself on two of its wooden legs all throughout her haranguing of the biker boy. A bewildered Ash coming to an epiphany afterward though, a devious smirk darkening his facials as he stepped off his bar stool before Sara. "Heh, twerps like me, huh? I got a better idea. Whaddya say we settle this beef in the ring later tonight here in the bar after Jack's guys set up the ring? Loser has to settle the winner's tab. Just try not to forget to show up, I hear memory is the second thing to deteriorate..." Ash making his way to the exit with his hands in his pockets, intending to return with his wrestling gear in tow.

"...*sigh*...You got any idea how much that hooligan owes me? S'gonna practically double yer own tab if ya end up kissin' the canvas tonight, ya know..." Jackass cautiously advised Sara as his employees started making room to set up the wrestling ring, apparently with one more match to add to the card.

JackAss' Rasslin' Ring: