Simspiration Prompt Response: Villains and Knaves (aka The Return of the Drunken Co-Write)
Title: Villains and Knaves (aka The Return of the Drunken Co-Write)
Author(s): docnerd & leilia
Rating: R
Prompt(s) Used: We're rascals, scoundrels villains, and knaves/Drink up me hearties yo ho/We're devils and black sheep - really bad eggs/Drink up me hearties yo ho ("Yo-ho a pirates life for me" from Disney)
Summary: Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name.
Warnings: Swearing. Villains. Drinking. Massive cameos. Humorous character death.
In the place beyond the Sim Bin, far away from the Nexus, existed a bar known as the Hole in the Wall. It was a lonely little place with nothing surrounding it for miles except for a few trees. Considering who the proprietor was, the isolation was well warranted.
Cypress Vetinari stood behind the polished wooden bar, his black sleeves rolled up to the elbow, surveying the crowd. The place was surprisingly rowdy considering almost no one was drinking anything. Full glasses of 'juice' were scattered on tables around the tavern. Every so often, when someone got up to use the restroom, the other occupants of the table would mix up the glasses so no one could be sure whose drink they had originally.
Each wall had a short phrase burned into the wood of the trim: Rascals and Scoundrels; Villains and Knaves; Devils and Black Sheep; Really Bad Eggs. Some claimed it was the bar's motto, while others posited that it indicated the kind of person willing to brave the Hole in the Wall.
A group of women pushed the door open and walked in: Drea Shin, Lillian Devereaux, Uranium Apocalypso, Julia Caesar, and Aria Bohemian. They headed to an empty table; Uranium grabbed a chair from another table without asking the occupants if they needed it.
"So nice to have a Girls' Night Out," Julia said. "I like spending time with women who know what it's like to divide and conquer."
Aria waved for a round of drinks. "Make them like I like my men: big and stiff."
Rhys Fitzhugh stared down at his glass of 'juice.' "Why do we always order drinks? It's not like we ever drink them."
"Ambiance is an integral part of the male bonding experience," Jack Buccaneer replied.
"Why am I even here?" Rhys complained. "This place is for 'Villains and Knaves,' and I'm not a villain!" He paused. "Okay, so there was that one time. And that other time. And that other other time. And, okay, so there was that one thing. And fine, maybe that counts."
"The quotation also references 'Rascals and scoundrels'," Jack pointed out, "and while I would certainly never consider myself a man of villainous mien, I must admittedly--and even proudly--consider myself to be categorized as something of a scoundrel."
"You must not, however, presume to speak for me," said Cecil Goodytwoshoes. He raised a glass of sherry to his lips, reconsidered, and placed it back on the table untasted.
"Eh, guilty as charged," said Larch Vetinari, tipping a frosted mug of beer in Jack's direction before taking a big gulp.
"How are you even drinking that?" Rhys demanded. "Nobody drinks here! Your damn brother owns the place, and he's got a thing for poisoning people!"
Larch shrugged. "Yeah, but it's no fun if he poisons me."
"Would be quiet, Rhys?" Drea called. "You're giving me a headache."
Someone in the bar sniggered.
"Don't make me drop a satellite on you," Uranium added.
Another person let out a derisive cackle.
"It would be a shame to do that." Aria blotted her lipstick on a bar napkin. "After all, he's so very good at what he does best."
"I agree," said Julia. "We should keep him around a little longer. His usefulness is not yet at an end."
"But he's only really useful for one thing." Drea thought for a moment. "Well, two, if you count taking care of the kids."
"Three, if you like a sparkling clean toilet," Julia replied.
"I clean my own toilets, thank you very much," Uranium said with a glare. "But I'd almost miss Rhys if someone happened to leave him in a pool with no ladder."
"So pedestrian." Aria drummed her fingernails on the tabletop. "Surely you can be more creative than that."
Lillian glanced around the table. "Am I seriously the only woman in the multiverse who hasn't slept with Rhys Fitzhugh?"
"I'm sure he'll get to you eventually, dear," said Drea.
"That wasn't a request," Lillian said.
Rhys slumped down in a his chair a little eyeing the scotch in front of him warily. Then, he glared at the table of five women before turning his head away pointedly and snapping, "And what are they doing here? I mean, can't a man avoid drinking in peace, without a parade of exes hanging around?"
"Sometimes it pays to be a one-woman man." Larch motioned for another beer which Cypress brought over with poor grace.
"I offer agreement in the strongest terms," Jack said.
Cecil remained silent and centered his glass of sherry on the table.
The door to the bar opened again and everyone looked up to see who was either brave or stupid enough to ender the bar. They got their answer when Seth Jayapalan walked in. "Hey, uh, I thought you should know there's a sack of flaming dog poo on your porch."
Cypress rolled his eyes. "You poison one little person in your bar and they think they can just leave flaming bags of dog crap in front of your door whenever they want." He pointed at the door. "Go clean it up."
"It's your place." Seth took a step closer to the bar.
Cypress's eyes narrowed fractionally. Seth prudently decided to head back outside.
Sitting at the bar, General Raikov peered suspiciously at his half-full drink. "What did you mean by 'poison one little person'?" He toppled slowly off his barstool.
"Make it two," Cypress said to no one in particular. Rodney Jalowitz slid down to another stool, leaving his drink behind.
"You think we should do something about that?" Lark asked.
"I'm pretty sure Marina will miss him," Rose said.
"Even if no one else will," Ang drawled.
Doc held up her glass. "Hey, Cypress! Another single-malt 'juice' that's old enough to order a 'juice'! And give Raikov the antidote before he's all-the-way dead!"
"And how come here?" Rhys said, picking up the conversation again. "Why isn't Marina? She should be here if there are other SimSelves here! I can't show her how much I don't care about her if she's not here to ignore! And how come they get to drink?"
"I rather suspect they are here because to most of us, they are ne'er-do-wells." Cecil straightened his cuffs.
"And you probably couldn't poison them if you tried," Larch pointed out. "They're more or less immortal, right?"
At the bar, Salahuddin Chamcha turned around and leaned over their table. "It also helps if you can't get any more dead." He flashed a fang-toothed smile before knocking back his drink and walking back to his table with the rest of his round.
Seth returned, rubbing his hands on his pants. He walked up to a table of three women and a missing chair. "Hello, ladies. Can I interest anyone in a drink?"
"I already have one I am not drinking," Marielle Hutchins said primly.
"You'll have better luck not hitting on married zombies." Samara Uglacy tossed her hair, which was somewhat hampered by her slow zombie reflexes.
Kirstial Legacina responded with a simple "Bleh."
"Okay then." Seth walked back to the bar.
"The special tonight's a Long Island Iced Tea," Cypress said as Seth sat down.
"What's so special about it?"
"Only contains fifty percent chance of death."
"If you're that desperate, you can buy me a drink," Rodney said.
Seth sighed. "Two Long Island Iced Teas."
"What's the magic word?" Cypress prompted.
"Please?"
"I was going for 'now,' but 'please' is also acceptable." Cypress poured the drinks and slid them across the bar to Seth and Rodney.
Henry Legacy looked around the room. "I do not feel this is the proper sort of establishment for a man of breeding."
" I also do not think it is proper for women to be out without chaperones, or to be dressed in so provocative a manner, or to be discussing such tawdry topics in public," Matthew Bradford agreed.
"It does cater to the plebs," Gaius Caesar said, adjusting his toga.
Salahuddin plunked the drinks down. "Okay, one wine for the Roman, two glasses of brandy, and one O-Neg and fifty-year-old single-malt for me."
"They serve blood here?" Henry said with a disdainful sniff. "Wherever do they procure it?"
Sal shrugged. "Didn't ask. Don't care."
"Cypress! Rose isn't drunk enough! We need mulled wine!" Lark shouted from the SimSelf table.
"But I'm a lightweight!" Rose protested.
With poor grace, Cypress brought four glasses of mulled wine to their table. Rose took a small sip. "I love everyone!" she proclaimed. "Hug time!"
"I think we just got Rose drunk enough," Doc observed. She gave Rose a hug and steered her towards another table.
"Hugs!" Rose said, sidestepping Seth's outstretched arms and giving Larch a squeeze from behind.
"None for me?" Rhys almost sounded disappointed.
Gaius happily obliged Rose's request for a hug. "Nine nice points," he explained.
"Really!" Matthew said coldly. "This is absolutely unacceptable behavior for a young woman--your father should be notified at once! Drinking and carousing in a gentleman's club--how will you ever find a husband after word of your loose morals gets out? And be assured that it will, if I have anything to say about it!" He glared at the SimSelf table. "Your friends are hardly better, dressing in trousers and revealing blouses and cursing and acting like they are equal to men!" He spun around, towards the Girls' Night Out group. "And you! You are all inappropriately dressed! Proper gentleman do not want to be assaulted with the sight of navels and knees and décolletage, nor would a real lady parade herself around thusly! You should feel ashamed! It's no wonder you aren't married--no man of taste would want you, as he couldn't rely on you to mind the children and keep a clean and tidy house and take care of his needs, as a woman should!"
Every female eye in the bar was on him. An oversized pair of purple eyes didn't move from Matthew's face as Uranium reached into her pocket, pulled out a remote control, and thumbed the big red button.
Matthew sat back and crossed his arms with a smug look on his face, clearly pleased with his rant.
A satellite smashed through the roof.
Matthew disappeared in a mass of screeching metal and electrical smoke.
Everyone looked at the smoking wreckage for a few heartbeats, then as one went back to their business.
"Ding dong, the bastard's dead," Drea said.
"Dibs on the next one." Julia eyed Uranium's remote control appreciatively.
"As long as it's not Rhys. We agreed we're not killing Rhys," Aria added. "Yet."
"We'll have to wait awhile for another satellite to come around." Uranium replaced the remote control in her pocket. "You think Rhys wants to have post-murder sex?"
"Post-murder Rhys sex is the best," Drea said.
"Agreed." Julia almost took a sip from her drink.
Lillian rolled her eyes. "Nope. That's it. I'm done hanging out with the Rhys fanclub." She dragged her chair over to the table with Kirstial, Marielle, and Samara and sat down. "No one here's slept with Rhys, right? No don't tell me; let me live the dream."
Cypress waved his arms, getting Lark's attention. "Hey! Fix the roof, will you?"
She pulled out a wand and gave it a lazy wave; the hole in the roof repaired itself.
Uranium pointed to the satellite wreckage. "Did you know you can't sell those at stores? That's crap, right?"
"I imagine you amassed quite a collection," Aria said.
Doc looked down. "Did Matthew insult my tits? I'm pretty sure he insulted my tits. I wonder if I can resurrect him so I can let my husband kill him next--he's sort of fond of my rack."
"Since when do we not like to look at bare ladyflesh and boobs?" Rhys asked. "Those are my favorite parts! And why would I want a woman to clean my house? How dare someone else clean my toilets?"
Seth slid off his barstool. "Speaking of, where's the head?"
Cypress pointed down a narrow hallway. As Seth headed to the bathroom, several pairs of eyes followed him, including Rhys, Cecil, Larch, and Uranium's. Ang rolled her eyes.
The faint sound of a flush could be heard. Multiple butts began twitching off their seats.
"Stop!" Cypress shouted. "My bar, my toilet!"
"Ass," Rhys muttered as he settled back into his seat.
"You could always go to the bathroom yourself, and clean the toilet before Cy gets there," Larch suggested.
"But since I can't trust the booze here, I don't need to break the seal," Rhys replied.
"What colorful vernacular," Cecil said.
As Seth walked back from the bathroom, he saw something at the edge of his vision in the unlit corner at the back of the bar, and he wasn't sure if it was the Long Island Iced Tea, the 'special' Long Island Iced Tea, or if there was a guy with wings sitting at the table in the shadows. "Hey, uh, does that guy over there have wings?" he asked Rodney as he stepped gingerly over the still-twitching legs of Matthew Bradford.
"What guy?" Rodney asked.
Gaius leaned over and peered at the wreckage. "I regret that we lacked such technology in Rome. Although the grilled cheese sandwiches were far superior." He took a sip of his wine. "Perhaps I ought to take over, and convert the natives to the Cult of Cheese. After I make an example of the first few protesters, the others will fall in line quick--" His eyes rolled back in his head and he hit the ground with a thud.
"Really?" Larch said, glaring at Cypress, who stepped back, hands up in protest.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, that one wasn't me," Cypress said. "The brandy has a really amusing side effect, not the wine."
Henry pushed his glass away from him.
"Ahahaha." Julia reached down and patted Gaius on the head. "Just wanted to keep my hand in. I'd apologize, but..." She cocked her head to one side. "Not sorry."
Rhys jumped to his feet. "All right, enough's enough! I don't belong here with these people! I'm not a rascal or a scoundrel or a villain or a knave! I'm not a devil or a bad egg, and do you see green skin and fur? No! Because I'm not a damn Black Sheep! I am Rhys Fucking Fitzhugh, and I'm not a murderer, or a thief, or a pirate and I don't deserve to be lumped in with this group of sociopaths! I demand better treatment than this!"
"STFU NOOB," Ang said, yanking a Freezer Clock out of her pocket. She smacked the top and Rhys froze in place mid-rant.
"Finally," Lillian said with an exasperated sigh.
"Don't say I never did nothin' for ya," Ang replied.
"Okay, I won't," Lillian shot back.
Drea, Uranium, Julia, and Aria got up from their table and planted kisses on Rhys's cheeks, leaving prints in various shades of lipstick.
"Oooh, look at all the free drinks!" Yakko Warner said, getting up from his table in the shadows and collecting the full glasses from the other tables.
"Shouldn't we stop him?" Zane Devereaux asked.
"Pretty sure he's indestructible," Spider Jerusalem Vetinari replied.
"What are we even doing here? I mean, I know Rhys, and I know that how he sees himself doesn't always mesh with, you know, actual reality, but I don't think I'm a scoundrel or any of that. Am I?" Zane said.
"We are here because we let Mr. Warner choose our destination for the night," said Max Goodytwoshoes.
"Last fuckin' time," Spider growled. "Of all the places to go, he picks this one?"
"I guess he's a rascal?" Zane squinted towards the bar. "I think he's asking your... I think he's asking the bartender for a YooHoo."
Max regarded the bartender through narrowed eyes. "I wonder if I might presume to borrow a measure of poison from Miss Caesar."
"If you wanna kill Cypress, get in line," Spider said.
Yakko reached into the hammerspace in his pants where he held all his possessions and pulled out a Sharpie. He walked over to the immobilized Rhys and carefully drew a curly Snidely Whiplash mustache onto Rhys's upper lip then stepped back to admire his work.
"Can I borrow that?" Lillian asked, coming up to him.
"Sure!" Yakko handed her the permanent marker.
With a few deft strokes, Lillian drew a penis and balls on Rhys's face. "That's what you get for being fucking everywhere!"
"That was in poor taste," Ang said.
"You're just mad you didn't think of it first," said Doc.
"Prove it." Ang countered, deflecting a hug from Rose, who pouted for a minute and then hugged Lark instead. Then the small woman wove her way around the room, looking for another hug. Cecil ducked away without appearing to have moved at all, and Rose instinctively avoided Drea and Julia, despite their nice points. As she passed the bar, Seth held his arms out, but she slid underneath and gave the groggy General Raikov a squeeze instead.
"I think that's the first time anyone's actually touched Raikov." Lark thought for a minute. "No wonder he's such a dick."
"Hugs make everything better!" Rose chirped drunkenly as she returned to the table, cuddling the closest person to her, who happened to be Ang.
"I prefer murder, myself." Kirstial ran a tongue along her fangs.
"Chili fixes everything." Samara drained her glass. "As long as it's got the secret ingredient."
"WooHoo is nice too," Marielle said.
Salahuddin and Henry wisely kept their mouths shut.
"It has always behooved me to store surplus rum in the cushions of the davenport," Jack said. Cecil surreptitiously scooted his chair further away from Jack.
Ang eyed the tipsy simself and sighed. "Please stop cuddling me. I am not a sad eyed springer spaniel."
"Oops, sorry!" Rose shifted to start cuddling Doc instead, rubbing her face against the other woman's chest. "Mmmm, you do have a nice rack."
"I think you've maybe done enough," Larch said to Yakko, who'd added a Van Dyke beard and devil horns to Rhys's face.
"You want a turn? It's fun." Yakko held out the marker to the other man.
"No thanks."
Yakko pouted for a second before holding up the Sharpie. "Anyone else wanna draw on his face?" He reached into his pants and pulled out several other markers. "I have a rainbow of colors!"
Aria sidled up to Yakko. "I don't suppose you have something we could use to haul Rhys out of here."
Yakko reached into his hammerspace and pulled out a Radio Flyer wagon.
"Thank you," Aria said. She batted her lashes at Larch and Jack. "Could I convince you two strong men to get Rhys into my wagon?"
Larch snorted. "Save it, lady; your not-my-wife feminine wiles are no good here." Nevertheless, he and Jack lifted Rhys up and set him into the wagon. "We're not hauling him home for you."
After a brief argument settled by Uranuim pulling out her remote again, Julia and Drea grabbed the handle of the Radio Flyer and pulled the Rhys-filled wagon out the door, Aria and Uranium keeping Rhys from falling over. A few seconds later, Marielle slid off her stool and followed them.
"Was that the right decision for Mr. Fitzhugh?" Cecil asked as the door shut behind the women.
Larch shrugged. "They can only do so much with him frozen. Right?"
Cypress checked the clock. "I'd say Last Call, but no one's drinking anyway, so... You don't have to go home, but get the hell out!"
"Fuckin' finally," Spider muttered. "Zane, get Yakko and let's go. And come back two weeks from never."
Ang looked down at the Freezer Clock. "Should I unfreeze him now?"
Doc thought about it. "Give it twenty minutes. Or maybe an hour."
"I don't care, as long as you do it somewhere else!" Cypress shooed the SimSelves out the door. In the dark corner of the bar where Spider Jerusalem and his group had been seated, the shadows lengthened for a moment, and then the light over the table clicked back on to reveal a few fresh condensation marks on the table's surface, and nothing else.
An hour later, a horrified cry came from a house at the end of an isolated street: "What did I do to deserve this?!"
Author(s): docnerd & leilia
Rating: R
Prompt(s) Used: We're rascals, scoundrels villains, and knaves/Drink up me hearties yo ho/We're devils and black sheep - really bad eggs/Drink up me hearties yo ho ("Yo-ho a pirates life for me" from Disney)
Summary: Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name.
Warnings: Swearing. Villains. Drinking. Massive cameos. Humorous character death.
In the place beyond the Sim Bin, far away from the Nexus, existed a bar known as the Hole in the Wall. It was a lonely little place with nothing surrounding it for miles except for a few trees. Considering who the proprietor was, the isolation was well warranted.
Cypress Vetinari stood behind the polished wooden bar, his black sleeves rolled up to the elbow, surveying the crowd. The place was surprisingly rowdy considering almost no one was drinking anything. Full glasses of 'juice' were scattered on tables around the tavern. Every so often, when someone got up to use the restroom, the other occupants of the table would mix up the glasses so no one could be sure whose drink they had originally.
Each wall had a short phrase burned into the wood of the trim: Rascals and Scoundrels; Villains and Knaves; Devils and Black Sheep; Really Bad Eggs. Some claimed it was the bar's motto, while others posited that it indicated the kind of person willing to brave the Hole in the Wall.
A group of women pushed the door open and walked in: Drea Shin, Lillian Devereaux, Uranium Apocalypso, Julia Caesar, and Aria Bohemian. They headed to an empty table; Uranium grabbed a chair from another table without asking the occupants if they needed it.
"So nice to have a Girls' Night Out," Julia said. "I like spending time with women who know what it's like to divide and conquer."
Aria waved for a round of drinks. "Make them like I like my men: big and stiff."
Rhys Fitzhugh stared down at his glass of 'juice.' "Why do we always order drinks? It's not like we ever drink them."
"Ambiance is an integral part of the male bonding experience," Jack Buccaneer replied.
"Why am I even here?" Rhys complained. "This place is for 'Villains and Knaves,' and I'm not a villain!" He paused. "Okay, so there was that one time. And that other time. And that other other time. And, okay, so there was that one thing. And fine, maybe that counts."
"The quotation also references 'Rascals and scoundrels'," Jack pointed out, "and while I would certainly never consider myself a man of villainous mien, I must admittedly--and even proudly--consider myself to be categorized as something of a scoundrel."
"You must not, however, presume to speak for me," said Cecil Goodytwoshoes. He raised a glass of sherry to his lips, reconsidered, and placed it back on the table untasted.
"Eh, guilty as charged," said Larch Vetinari, tipping a frosted mug of beer in Jack's direction before taking a big gulp.
"How are you even drinking that?" Rhys demanded. "Nobody drinks here! Your damn brother owns the place, and he's got a thing for poisoning people!"
Larch shrugged. "Yeah, but it's no fun if he poisons me."
"Would be quiet, Rhys?" Drea called. "You're giving me a headache."
Someone in the bar sniggered.
"Don't make me drop a satellite on you," Uranium added.
Another person let out a derisive cackle.
"It would be a shame to do that." Aria blotted her lipstick on a bar napkin. "After all, he's so very good at what he does best."
"I agree," said Julia. "We should keep him around a little longer. His usefulness is not yet at an end."
"But he's only really useful for one thing." Drea thought for a moment. "Well, two, if you count taking care of the kids."
"Three, if you like a sparkling clean toilet," Julia replied.
"I clean my own toilets, thank you very much," Uranium said with a glare. "But I'd almost miss Rhys if someone happened to leave him in a pool with no ladder."
"So pedestrian." Aria drummed her fingernails on the tabletop. "Surely you can be more creative than that."
Lillian glanced around the table. "Am I seriously the only woman in the multiverse who hasn't slept with Rhys Fitzhugh?"
"I'm sure he'll get to you eventually, dear," said Drea.
"That wasn't a request," Lillian said.
Rhys slumped down in a his chair a little eyeing the scotch in front of him warily. Then, he glared at the table of five women before turning his head away pointedly and snapping, "And what are they doing here? I mean, can't a man avoid drinking in peace, without a parade of exes hanging around?"
"Sometimes it pays to be a one-woman man." Larch motioned for another beer which Cypress brought over with poor grace.
"I offer agreement in the strongest terms," Jack said.
Cecil remained silent and centered his glass of sherry on the table.
The door to the bar opened again and everyone looked up to see who was either brave or stupid enough to ender the bar. They got their answer when Seth Jayapalan walked in. "Hey, uh, I thought you should know there's a sack of flaming dog poo on your porch."
Cypress rolled his eyes. "You poison one little person in your bar and they think they can just leave flaming bags of dog crap in front of your door whenever they want." He pointed at the door. "Go clean it up."
"It's your place." Seth took a step closer to the bar.
Cypress's eyes narrowed fractionally. Seth prudently decided to head back outside.
Sitting at the bar, General Raikov peered suspiciously at his half-full drink. "What did you mean by 'poison one little person'?" He toppled slowly off his barstool.
"Make it two," Cypress said to no one in particular. Rodney Jalowitz slid down to another stool, leaving his drink behind.
"You think we should do something about that?" Lark asked.
"I'm pretty sure Marina will miss him," Rose said.
"Even if no one else will," Ang drawled.
Doc held up her glass. "Hey, Cypress! Another single-malt 'juice' that's old enough to order a 'juice'! And give Raikov the antidote before he's all-the-way dead!"
"And how come here?" Rhys said, picking up the conversation again. "Why isn't Marina? She should be here if there are other SimSelves here! I can't show her how much I don't care about her if she's not here to ignore! And how come they get to drink?"
"I rather suspect they are here because to most of us, they are ne'er-do-wells." Cecil straightened his cuffs.
"And you probably couldn't poison them if you tried," Larch pointed out. "They're more or less immortal, right?"
At the bar, Salahuddin Chamcha turned around and leaned over their table. "It also helps if you can't get any more dead." He flashed a fang-toothed smile before knocking back his drink and walking back to his table with the rest of his round.
Seth returned, rubbing his hands on his pants. He walked up to a table of three women and a missing chair. "Hello, ladies. Can I interest anyone in a drink?"
"I already have one I am not drinking," Marielle Hutchins said primly.
"You'll have better luck not hitting on married zombies." Samara Uglacy tossed her hair, which was somewhat hampered by her slow zombie reflexes.
Kirstial Legacina responded with a simple "Bleh."
"Okay then." Seth walked back to the bar.
"The special tonight's a Long Island Iced Tea," Cypress said as Seth sat down.
"What's so special about it?"
"Only contains fifty percent chance of death."
"If you're that desperate, you can buy me a drink," Rodney said.
Seth sighed. "Two Long Island Iced Teas."
"What's the magic word?" Cypress prompted.
"Please?"
"I was going for 'now,' but 'please' is also acceptable." Cypress poured the drinks and slid them across the bar to Seth and Rodney.
Henry Legacy looked around the room. "I do not feel this is the proper sort of establishment for a man of breeding."
" I also do not think it is proper for women to be out without chaperones, or to be dressed in so provocative a manner, or to be discussing such tawdry topics in public," Matthew Bradford agreed.
"It does cater to the plebs," Gaius Caesar said, adjusting his toga.
Salahuddin plunked the drinks down. "Okay, one wine for the Roman, two glasses of brandy, and one O-Neg and fifty-year-old single-malt for me."
"They serve blood here?" Henry said with a disdainful sniff. "Wherever do they procure it?"
Sal shrugged. "Didn't ask. Don't care."
"Cypress! Rose isn't drunk enough! We need mulled wine!" Lark shouted from the SimSelf table.
"But I'm a lightweight!" Rose protested.
With poor grace, Cypress brought four glasses of mulled wine to their table. Rose took a small sip. "I love everyone!" she proclaimed. "Hug time!"
"I think we just got Rose drunk enough," Doc observed. She gave Rose a hug and steered her towards another table.
"Hugs!" Rose said, sidestepping Seth's outstretched arms and giving Larch a squeeze from behind.
"None for me?" Rhys almost sounded disappointed.
Gaius happily obliged Rose's request for a hug. "Nine nice points," he explained.
"Really!" Matthew said coldly. "This is absolutely unacceptable behavior for a young woman--your father should be notified at once! Drinking and carousing in a gentleman's club--how will you ever find a husband after word of your loose morals gets out? And be assured that it will, if I have anything to say about it!" He glared at the SimSelf table. "Your friends are hardly better, dressing in trousers and revealing blouses and cursing and acting like they are equal to men!" He spun around, towards the Girls' Night Out group. "And you! You are all inappropriately dressed! Proper gentleman do not want to be assaulted with the sight of navels and knees and décolletage, nor would a real lady parade herself around thusly! You should feel ashamed! It's no wonder you aren't married--no man of taste would want you, as he couldn't rely on you to mind the children and keep a clean and tidy house and take care of his needs, as a woman should!"
Every female eye in the bar was on him. An oversized pair of purple eyes didn't move from Matthew's face as Uranium reached into her pocket, pulled out a remote control, and thumbed the big red button.
Matthew sat back and crossed his arms with a smug look on his face, clearly pleased with his rant.
A satellite smashed through the roof.
Matthew disappeared in a mass of screeching metal and electrical smoke.
Everyone looked at the smoking wreckage for a few heartbeats, then as one went back to their business.
"Ding dong, the bastard's dead," Drea said.
"Dibs on the next one." Julia eyed Uranium's remote control appreciatively.
"As long as it's not Rhys. We agreed we're not killing Rhys," Aria added. "Yet."
"We'll have to wait awhile for another satellite to come around." Uranium replaced the remote control in her pocket. "You think Rhys wants to have post-murder sex?"
"Post-murder Rhys sex is the best," Drea said.
"Agreed." Julia almost took a sip from her drink.
Lillian rolled her eyes. "Nope. That's it. I'm done hanging out with the Rhys fanclub." She dragged her chair over to the table with Kirstial, Marielle, and Samara and sat down. "No one here's slept with Rhys, right? No don't tell me; let me live the dream."
Cypress waved his arms, getting Lark's attention. "Hey! Fix the roof, will you?"
She pulled out a wand and gave it a lazy wave; the hole in the roof repaired itself.
Uranium pointed to the satellite wreckage. "Did you know you can't sell those at stores? That's crap, right?"
"I imagine you amassed quite a collection," Aria said.
Doc looked down. "Did Matthew insult my tits? I'm pretty sure he insulted my tits. I wonder if I can resurrect him so I can let my husband kill him next--he's sort of fond of my rack."
"Since when do we not like to look at bare ladyflesh and boobs?" Rhys asked. "Those are my favorite parts! And why would I want a woman to clean my house? How dare someone else clean my toilets?"
Seth slid off his barstool. "Speaking of, where's the head?"
Cypress pointed down a narrow hallway. As Seth headed to the bathroom, several pairs of eyes followed him, including Rhys, Cecil, Larch, and Uranium's. Ang rolled her eyes.
The faint sound of a flush could be heard. Multiple butts began twitching off their seats.
"Stop!" Cypress shouted. "My bar, my toilet!"
"Ass," Rhys muttered as he settled back into his seat.
"You could always go to the bathroom yourself, and clean the toilet before Cy gets there," Larch suggested.
"But since I can't trust the booze here, I don't need to break the seal," Rhys replied.
"What colorful vernacular," Cecil said.
As Seth walked back from the bathroom, he saw something at the edge of his vision in the unlit corner at the back of the bar, and he wasn't sure if it was the Long Island Iced Tea, the 'special' Long Island Iced Tea, or if there was a guy with wings sitting at the table in the shadows. "Hey, uh, does that guy over there have wings?" he asked Rodney as he stepped gingerly over the still-twitching legs of Matthew Bradford.
"What guy?" Rodney asked.
Gaius leaned over and peered at the wreckage. "I regret that we lacked such technology in Rome. Although the grilled cheese sandwiches were far superior." He took a sip of his wine. "Perhaps I ought to take over, and convert the natives to the Cult of Cheese. After I make an example of the first few protesters, the others will fall in line quick--" His eyes rolled back in his head and he hit the ground with a thud.
"Really?" Larch said, glaring at Cypress, who stepped back, hands up in protest.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, that one wasn't me," Cypress said. "The brandy has a really amusing side effect, not the wine."
Henry pushed his glass away from him.
"Ahahaha." Julia reached down and patted Gaius on the head. "Just wanted to keep my hand in. I'd apologize, but..." She cocked her head to one side. "Not sorry."
Rhys jumped to his feet. "All right, enough's enough! I don't belong here with these people! I'm not a rascal or a scoundrel or a villain or a knave! I'm not a devil or a bad egg, and do you see green skin and fur? No! Because I'm not a damn Black Sheep! I am Rhys Fucking Fitzhugh, and I'm not a murderer, or a thief, or a pirate and I don't deserve to be lumped in with this group of sociopaths! I demand better treatment than this!"
"STFU NOOB," Ang said, yanking a Freezer Clock out of her pocket. She smacked the top and Rhys froze in place mid-rant.
"Finally," Lillian said with an exasperated sigh.
"Don't say I never did nothin' for ya," Ang replied.
"Okay, I won't," Lillian shot back.
Drea, Uranium, Julia, and Aria got up from their table and planted kisses on Rhys's cheeks, leaving prints in various shades of lipstick.
"Oooh, look at all the free drinks!" Yakko Warner said, getting up from his table in the shadows and collecting the full glasses from the other tables.
"Shouldn't we stop him?" Zane Devereaux asked.
"Pretty sure he's indestructible," Spider Jerusalem Vetinari replied.
"What are we even doing here? I mean, I know Rhys, and I know that how he sees himself doesn't always mesh with, you know, actual reality, but I don't think I'm a scoundrel or any of that. Am I?" Zane said.
"We are here because we let Mr. Warner choose our destination for the night," said Max Goodytwoshoes.
"Last fuckin' time," Spider growled. "Of all the places to go, he picks this one?"
"I guess he's a rascal?" Zane squinted towards the bar. "I think he's asking your... I think he's asking the bartender for a YooHoo."
Max regarded the bartender through narrowed eyes. "I wonder if I might presume to borrow a measure of poison from Miss Caesar."
"If you wanna kill Cypress, get in line," Spider said.
Yakko reached into the hammerspace in his pants where he held all his possessions and pulled out a Sharpie. He walked over to the immobilized Rhys and carefully drew a curly Snidely Whiplash mustache onto Rhys's upper lip then stepped back to admire his work.
"Can I borrow that?" Lillian asked, coming up to him.
"Sure!" Yakko handed her the permanent marker.
With a few deft strokes, Lillian drew a penis and balls on Rhys's face. "That's what you get for being fucking everywhere!"
"That was in poor taste," Ang said.
"You're just mad you didn't think of it first," said Doc.
"Prove it." Ang countered, deflecting a hug from Rose, who pouted for a minute and then hugged Lark instead. Then the small woman wove her way around the room, looking for another hug. Cecil ducked away without appearing to have moved at all, and Rose instinctively avoided Drea and Julia, despite their nice points. As she passed the bar, Seth held his arms out, but she slid underneath and gave the groggy General Raikov a squeeze instead.
"I think that's the first time anyone's actually touched Raikov." Lark thought for a minute. "No wonder he's such a dick."
"Hugs make everything better!" Rose chirped drunkenly as she returned to the table, cuddling the closest person to her, who happened to be Ang.
"I prefer murder, myself." Kirstial ran a tongue along her fangs.
"Chili fixes everything." Samara drained her glass. "As long as it's got the secret ingredient."
"WooHoo is nice too," Marielle said.
Salahuddin and Henry wisely kept their mouths shut.
"It has always behooved me to store surplus rum in the cushions of the davenport," Jack said. Cecil surreptitiously scooted his chair further away from Jack.
Ang eyed the tipsy simself and sighed. "Please stop cuddling me. I am not a sad eyed springer spaniel."
"Oops, sorry!" Rose shifted to start cuddling Doc instead, rubbing her face against the other woman's chest. "Mmmm, you do have a nice rack."
"I think you've maybe done enough," Larch said to Yakko, who'd added a Van Dyke beard and devil horns to Rhys's face.
"You want a turn? It's fun." Yakko held out the marker to the other man.
"No thanks."
Yakko pouted for a second before holding up the Sharpie. "Anyone else wanna draw on his face?" He reached into his pants and pulled out several other markers. "I have a rainbow of colors!"
Aria sidled up to Yakko. "I don't suppose you have something we could use to haul Rhys out of here."
Yakko reached into his hammerspace and pulled out a Radio Flyer wagon.
"Thank you," Aria said. She batted her lashes at Larch and Jack. "Could I convince you two strong men to get Rhys into my wagon?"
Larch snorted. "Save it, lady; your not-my-wife feminine wiles are no good here." Nevertheless, he and Jack lifted Rhys up and set him into the wagon. "We're not hauling him home for you."
After a brief argument settled by Uranuim pulling out her remote again, Julia and Drea grabbed the handle of the Radio Flyer and pulled the Rhys-filled wagon out the door, Aria and Uranium keeping Rhys from falling over. A few seconds later, Marielle slid off her stool and followed them.
"Was that the right decision for Mr. Fitzhugh?" Cecil asked as the door shut behind the women.
Larch shrugged. "They can only do so much with him frozen. Right?"
Cypress checked the clock. "I'd say Last Call, but no one's drinking anyway, so... You don't have to go home, but get the hell out!"
"Fuckin' finally," Spider muttered. "Zane, get Yakko and let's go. And come back two weeks from never."
Ang looked down at the Freezer Clock. "Should I unfreeze him now?"
Doc thought about it. "Give it twenty minutes. Or maybe an hour."
"I don't care, as long as you do it somewhere else!" Cypress shooed the SimSelves out the door. In the dark corner of the bar where Spider Jerusalem and his group had been seated, the shadows lengthened for a moment, and then the light over the table clicked back on to reveal a few fresh condensation marks on the table's surface, and nothing else.
An hour later, a horrified cry came from a house at the end of an isolated street: "What did I do to deserve this?!"