(no subject)
Today has not been a good day, and if there were any justice in the world Sands would be suffering it with a couple of pints of tequila in his bloodstream. But this is his fifth cantina and his tenth drink, and he still can’t seem to manage more than a couple of sips.
Mexico, he’s come to realise, is full of shady-looking characters in shades. It doesn’t make for a relaxing drink (especially when you’ve just found out your GIRLFRIEND is a CARTEL PRINCESS).
He’d rang the Mariachi somewhere between cantina three and four. Told him to hold his horses on the big dance number, and the morose fucker hung up.
“Christ,” he mutters, and he spills the tequila as he pushes it away. The barman is already moving forwards with dishcloth at the ready.
“Fuck you too,” Sands adds, upending the rest of the glass onto the bartop. Just because.
Needless to say, he doesn’t hang around after that.
-
Ten minutes later, and the course of inevitability has lead him right back to her door.
“No, listen, Jorge… if you’d just let me finish, this could be over so quickly, and I’m as sick of your voice as I’m sure you are of mine,” he’s ranting into his mobile as he paces. “Don’t worry, big boy, you’ll still get your revenge. There’s just, uh… a minor change of plans, okay?”
He rolls his eyes as Ramirez sighs deeply, phone crackling with static, and raises his hand to knock on the door.
A second’s quiet contemplation, and he draws his gun and kicks the door instead.
Mexico, he’s come to realise, is full of shady-looking characters in shades. It doesn’t make for a relaxing drink (especially when you’ve just found out your GIRLFRIEND is a CARTEL PRINCESS).
He’d rang the Mariachi somewhere between cantina three and four. Told him to hold his horses on the big dance number, and the morose fucker hung up.
“Christ,” he mutters, and he spills the tequila as he pushes it away. The barman is already moving forwards with dishcloth at the ready.
“Fuck you too,” Sands adds, upending the rest of the glass onto the bartop. Just because.
Needless to say, he doesn’t hang around after that.
-
Ten minutes later, and the course of inevitability has lead him right back to her door.
“No, listen, Jorge… if you’d just let me finish, this could be over so quickly, and I’m as sick of your voice as I’m sure you are of mine,” he’s ranting into his mobile as he paces. “Don’t worry, big boy, you’ll still get your revenge. There’s just, uh… a minor change of plans, okay?”
He rolls his eyes as Ramirez sighs deeply, phone crackling with static, and raises his hand to knock on the door.
A second’s quiet contemplation, and he draws his gun and kicks the door instead.