He cast an amused glance over the top of his pint as he had a drink. "You seemed so determined to have your own way," he shrugged, his voice low and he wasn't inclined to speak up, therefore making Ewan lean forward to hear anything at all, "how could I tell you otherwise? Besides, admit it. You enjoy physically abusing complete strangers dressed up in hats and boots." Suddenly a loud shouting brought everyone's attention front and centre with the announcement of the quiz about to resume from break. Quietly excited, he passed over the electronic keypad, "Alright, if you don't know, then don't answer, yeah? It'll take points away and we're tied with those fuckers," he pointed at a nearby table at a bunch of wrinkled fat old men who had the waitresses busy refilling their pitchers of beer. "I can't stand losing."
Taking the pad from him, Ewan looked it over for a moment before slugging down his drink. He figured the buzz would give them an edge. Giving a sideways glance to their opponents, he gave Jonathan a quick nod. "I've got it under control." Over the loud speaker the question was stated in a crackling voice: What pharmaceutical company sponsored the quiz show Twenty-One in the 1950's. Ewan was pleased that he already knew the answer; it had been a Jeopardy! question he remembered well. The keypad's abc listing said the Sylviana family, Geritol and Victor Hermelin's KV. Immediately pressing B he set down the device. "Have a little faith, huh, Meyers? It's not like you haven't gotten a wrong answer." Turning around in his seat he looked across at their opponents with a smile. "That Hooter’s party is in the bag, man." Handing back the pad to Jonathan, he sat back and waited for the next round of questions to begin.
Jonathan just gave him a doubtful look. Truth be told, he didn't have faith in him at all not to deliberately punch in wrong answers just to get to him. So it was with surprise (which he disguised immediately) when his answer turned out to be correct. He pretended he had absolute confidence. "It's almost ridiculous to go through all this fucking stress for free hot wings," he said, distracted, and squinted at the next question that read Which ground-breaking band opened up for Adam and the Ants back in 1976? Jonathan immediately pressed the C button for the Sex Pistols and sat back and frowned at his almost-empty pint. "I can feel my ulcer acting up again." He raised his pint to his before he drained it all. "Cheers, this is my fourth."
Ewan was amused that he appeared to be taking this so seriously. Then again, he knew well that Jonathan took everything seriously, so it shouldn't have been a surprise. Waiting for the next answer to appear, he furrowed her brow in thought. What was Albrecht Durer's most famous carving called? Ewan didn't know the answer at all, and darted his eyes across the table at Jonathan to see if he was looking. Of course he had to be staring back at him with that far too serious glint in his eye. Biting the inside of his lip, Ewan chose A. Durer's Rhinocerous and waited to see if it was correct. When their number card went up a few points he let out a sigh of relief and then downed the rest of his drink. "I'm going to need another. You’re right, this is getting stressful."
He narrowed his eyes a little, "You guessed at that one, didn't you?" It was quietly disapproving, but not too much. After all, Ewan won another ten points for them and now they were both the objects of dirty looks from the old men across the way. This filled him with secret glee and definitely called for another round of drinks. He snickered and signalled for another two. Jonathan had stumbled on this bar a while back and he'd always come close to winning the pub quiz title three times only to be upset by the leader of the old man pack at the other table. It was personal at this point. And now, with the final question and the title of the winners at stake, he leaned forward instinctively as though ready to pounce on the question as soon as it appeared on screen. The surface of this distant world is very, very cold. The temperature is nearly 400 degrees below 0 F.Jonathan bit on his lip and quickly glanced aside to the other table where sudden furious discussion had broken out. He looked at Ewan, who only returned an arched brow, a
( ... )
Ewan threw his hands up in the air with holler that arched above the groans of the other players. "We won!" Sliding out of the booth he accepted handshakes and dodged a grope or two before they made it to the stage. Slinging his arm over Jonathan’s shoulder, he smiled brightly at the bar announcer all the while thinking about the Hooters party ahead. Taking the tokens, he held them up for everyone to see and then only seconds later nearly dropped them. Did he hear correctly? O'Malleys Olde Butcherie? His mouth dropped in awe when the card was placed into his hand. Staring dumbly at the announcer he said, "Huh?" Looking at the card to make sure he had heard correctly, he took his arm off of Jonathan and addressed him. "Two hundred pounds of meat? Is this some kind of joke?" The table of older men that had lost were busy frowning into their beers. One of them stood up and screamed across the bar, "What are those two fucking scrappers going to do with all of that meat!!" Ewan was far too busy being confused to contemplate what was going
( ... )
Jonathan was too dumbstruck to even register they hadn’t actually won a catered Hooter’s party. The furore of the losing table and the stampede forward in an effort to grab the prize away snapped him out of it. He instinctively closed his hand around the card, but gave it a look as though a poisonous snake had mysteriously appeared. "The hell?" he gave his a wide-eyed, incredulous look and shoved it back into Ewan’s hands, his voice shrill with barely-disguised panic, "I’m going to Italy! How the fuck am I taking sixteen stone of meat!"
Another angry shout, this time from a different drunk in the crowd, “Oi, what the fuck’s Ewan McGregor gonna do with all that? Give it to his bloody orphans?” Jonathan had to act fast. Reaching out and grabbing Ewan’s arm just as he was about to plummet into the crowd, fists blazing for a row, he laughed as he pulled him back. “Let it go, mate,” he said, trying to once again sneak the gift card back into Ewan’s hands.
Ewan held his hands back. He wasn't going to accept that card. "I can't have it either! Woody’s put me on a very strict vegetable diet!" Stepping back away from Jonathan, he almost got grabbed from off the podium by an angry meat eater. With a yell of protest he came closer to Jonathan again. "I think we need to get out of here before a carnivore chomps our ears off!" Still shying away from the meat card, Ewan threw his jukebox tokens at someone who was trying to grab at him, hitting them square in the eye. "MEYERS GET MOVING!" Pushing at his shoulder, he searched around wildly for a back alley exit. When Jonathan still appeared dumbstruck, he grabbed his wrist and nearly bowled over the announcer to try to get out. Elbowing someone in the side on the way down the stairs, he finally located an exit sign. Pointing toward it he yelled, "Over there!"
He blinked as he suddenly found himself pushed, prodded and finally yanked to the exit. Finally coming to his senses and with his self-preservation kicking into place, he made a mad dash. "Come on," he grabbed his arm and bulldozed through the melee. Just a few more paces, he thought as Ewan began shoving his back and yelling at him to run faster. He sped up - only to bounce back when a huge bastard who resembled Mr. Clean stepped in the doorway, barring their escape
( ... )
Jumping up and down a few times because he was pumped full of adrenaline, Ewan didn't see the bouncer pause Jonathan and went tumbling into his back. "Ow!" Rubbing at his nose, he stepped back and into the crossed arms of another bouncer. Looking back at him Ewan matched his glare. "We don't have to do anything. You can't hold us hostage." The circle of bouncers seemed to close in on them even more until Ewan was pressed up against Jonathan’s back. "Erm..." Looking at the dolly, he was at a loss. If they didn't take the meat it looked like something awful could potentially happen, so he gave in. "Fine. We'll take the prize if you promise to get us out of here without a scratch on us." Mr. Clean stepped away from the doorway, another security guard taking his place so they couldn't make a quick escape. Taking the handle of the dolly when it was given to him, Ewan stuck out his lower lip when the door to the back alley was slammed behind them. As soon as it was just the two of them, he immediately started in on Jonathan. "Why did you
( ... )
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Another angry shout, this time from a different drunk in the crowd, “Oi, what the fuck’s Ewan McGregor gonna do with all that? Give it to his bloody orphans?” Jonathan had to act fast. Reaching out and grabbing Ewan’s arm just as he was about to plummet into the crowd, fists blazing for a row, he laughed as he pulled him back. “Let it go, mate,” he said, trying to once again sneak the gift card back into Ewan’s hands.
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