It's a regular, boring old day in the Rabid household. Taylor is sitting on his recliner, a cigarette in one hand and a TV remote in the other. To his right is his friend Henry Mosh, who is barely visible behind a brown wall of hair. Henry is currently lighting up a joint on the couch, and is pretty much half asleep as always. Rabid's flipping through channels, looking for anything of interest, suddenly one thing catches his eye 'Ireland: a travelers guide.' He stops on this channel and watches for a few seconds.
"Ireland, a country famed for its beautiful sights, and its rich culture, is a beautiful place to visit.
A great way to learn about Irish culture is by visiting an Irish pub, meeting the people, and enjoying a Guinness or two"
"Hey, Henry, you thirsty?"
Henry looks over at Taylor, and takes a few seconds before replying.
"Yeah man i'm parched."
"Good shit, get dressed, we're heading out"
"Wait, let me finish this shit man!"
-A relaxing night at the pub-
Taylor and Henry are now walking down the street, there is a chill in the evening air, and the sky is painted in a thick, dark blue. The streets are busy for the weekend, the noise of busy bars, people talking and car horns pollute the air.
"So why are we even going to this... whats it called, this 'Scratching's tavern' place man?" Every word droning slowly.
"Becaussssse, i wanna learn about my first XWF opponent, Michael Mcbride, learn about his people. You'd be surprised how much knowing even the smallest things can help you win a match, man."
.
"I dunno, you never fight like you have aaa, uhm, a plan, dude, no offense."
/
"Well, im turning over a new leaf. This is serious, a serious company. Cant just brawl like before now. Have to be professional at all times."
.
"Well, im glad. Me and the guys were worried for a while, seemed like you were starting to kinda... Lose it a bit, like you were becoming more reckless and unhinged."
.
"I dont know what you mean." The tone of Taylor's voice, and the way he looked at Henry, displayed that he wanted to move on from the subject quickly. Who were they to judge his actions anyway, his attitude was always to do whatever was necessary to come out on top. That was something that nobody else could understand.
.
They kept walking in silence for a few more minutes, Henry made the occasional remark about the drunk people out tonight, or the weather. Eventually though, they reached the end of the street, they were outside of the pub.
.
The sounds of music, laughter and the clinking of glasses poured out of the windows and the doors of 'Scratching's Tavern'
"I wonder who Scratching is." Henry said as the two men entered through the heavy, dark wooded doors.
.
The mix of beer and smoke filled their lungs. The wooden walls and floor were painted in dust and splashed with stains from beer, vomit, or even blood.
.
Taylor began walking up to the bar, but stopped suddenly as he noticed he was surrounded by the crushing sound of silence.
Patrons of the bar slowly turned around, staring venomously at Taylor and Henry. The looks gave them the impression that they weren't welcome, and that they should leave, immediately. Taylor is not deterred though as he marches up to the Bartender and begins ordering.
,
"Hey, bro. Can i get two pints of Guinness for me and my friend here."
The bartender looks at them both, his sunken, bored looking eyes analyse both men up and down.
"Yea' shure son that'll be about eight seventy five." The man spoke in a manner that fitted his appearance, he sounded dull and bored, even despite his thick accent.
"Thanks dude, or should i say matey."
"I'd prefer if you didn't." The bartender muttered as he slid 2 pints to Taylor and Henry from across the bar.
,
Taylor and Henry found their way to the only empty booth, The people in the bar were still looking at them like they were outsiders, but at least they weren't silent anymore. Taylor took a sip of the ice cold beer, the glass he was drinking it out of was dirty, but he assumed that just meant extra flavor.
.
"Well, place isn't as welcoming as the TV made it sound. Just a bunch of balding ginger people staring at me."
.
"Well, we don't look like anyone else here. Dudes here just wear tracksuits, sweaters and caps."
.
"Weird, figured that the spikes leather were endearing and eclectic." Taylor chuckled as he took another sip.
.
"You know, its good to be here, i know i said we were here to learn about my opponent. But really, its just nice going for a little drink. Feel like i have been consumed by wild parties and violence recently, it's a good change of pace."
.
"I'm glad bro. It must be nice to get a break from constantly fighting or hurting people, you need to detach from it sometimes."
Rabid nodded in agreement, but as he did, he noticed the bar had gone silent again. The doors of the tavern flew open and in walked a massive mountain of a man dressed in a green tartan suit. His face was red and he looked both competent and hard. On his fat, arthritic fingers were a set of golden rings. The man was surrounded by two men in black suits, one short and fat, the other tall and skinny, too skinny to be healthy. They were all smoking.
.
"Alright lads, whats the crack!?" Bellowed the large man.
.
"Hey Mr O'Connoly"
Said the patrons of the bar, all except Taylor and Henry.
.
Mr O'Connoly was the biggest stereotype of an Irish mobster that one could imagine, covered in gold and clad in a green suit. He waddled to the bar, smiling with his yellow and golden teeth. He greeted a few people at the bar and ordered a few pints for himself. He then walked around the tables shaking hands with every shady looking person there.
"Christ, dude, did you know this place was a mob meetup spot." Henry angrily said as he looked around the place.
"Listen, its rude to assume that he's a mobster." Taylor then saw the holsters on each hip of Mr O'Connoly and on his henchmen.
"Well, maybe, but not all mobsters are bad people."
"OI! What did i just hear?"
Surely not, surely Taylor's words weren't heard by the fat mobster.
Mr O'Connoly slowly marched up to the table of Taylor and Henry
"HEY, Sex Pistols, surely i misheard you two little punks, surely i didn't hear m-, the M word come from this table."
Henry gulped and stared at Taylor in fear.
"No, no you uh- didn't hear anything... sir." The mobster nodded his head, then looked over at Taylor.
"Alright, headbanger. Did you, or anyone else call me a... a mobster?"
Taylor took a minute, looked around the bar, before speaking.
"Maybe man, so what if someone did anyway?"
"Well, if someone called me that, i'd probably get that person, pistol whip them and kick their teeth in. Because I am a businessman, a proud, humble business owner. And i wont be messed with by by the likes of you, punk."
"I dont think you could even get your leg up that high to kick me you fat motherfu-"
O'Connoly slaps Taylor across the face. Rabid sits in silence for a few seconds, before pouncing on the fat mobster in front of him. The two men crash through a small wooden table together, and then begin brawling on the floor together.
"UGH, Taylor what the HELL is wrong with you! Starting ANOTHER fight!"
Henry begins getting up but the thin henchman then runs to the table and cracks Henry in the face, both men then begin swinging at each other.
The bar erupts into a massive brawl, it's absolute pandemonium. Chairs are flying everywhere, all of the patrons of the bar begin a massive, bloody, destructive brawl.
And the catalyst for all this, an unhinged punk that loves a fight squaring up to an Irishman.
-TO BE CONTINUED-
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