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Morgan ZIM Space Jawa
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Joined: 01 Oct 2009 Posts: 536 Location: I am here -> *
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Posted: Fri, June 04th 2010 05:12am Post subject: Nar Shadda; The Slag Pit |
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(Continued from Here.)
Morgan picked up his nearly empty bottle and held what remained up at eye level. He didn’t have to hold it very high, as his drunk self had leaned over onto the bar and let his head lay on top of his arm.
”Look at it, would ya?” He said, swirling what was left of the alcoholic concoction around in the bottom. ”Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…
”Last what?”
”Dohn be interruptin’ me. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…”
”How long is this going to last?”
”I said let me finish. It goes as long as I wants it to. Aaaaaaaaaaaaa….”
He put the bottle to his lips and downed whatever liquid remained and set it on the bar.
”Aaaaaaast of the bottle, and now it’s gone. Tender! Nother, please!”
The closest bartender, a member of that aquatic green-skinned species with all the head tentacles that Morgan couldn’t remember the name of but thought it was something like Nutolian or Newolian or something, turned to look at him.
“I think you’ve had enough.”
”I have to agree with him. I am unfortunately incapable of providing designated driver duties for your body.”
”Don’t you tell me what I can’t do!” Morgan said, sticking his index finger against his head. ”I’m payin’, ain’t I? And as long as I keep paying, I expect to get more drinks!”
He pulled out a credit chip and placed it on the bar.
”More money for more drink. Now beer me!”
“It’s not the policy here to let people drink themselves to death. Dead customers don’t do repeat business.”
”Not that you’d have to repeat this hear ever again anyway.”
”Stop it, both ya. Just give me my drink.”
“The fact that you’re seeing double only proves my point.”
”What you talkin’ about? I still only see one of you. I’m just talking to the voice in my head.”
“Again, it proves my point.”
”Again, what you talkin’ about? It’s not a drunk voice! I hear him all the time!”
The bartender simply shook his head and moved on to bar goers he wouldn’t have any trouble with.
”Fine.” He said, taking his chip back. ”Who needs your bloody bar? I’ll go somewhere that they don’t care how much I’ve had.”
Pushing himself off the bar, he stood up and began to make his way to the door.
”Perhaps you should stay here instead until you can work that stuff through your system.”
”Nope.”
”You do realize that while I am incapable of being drunk, this fact does nothing to aid you should you get in trouble?”
”Quiet, ZIM.”
“Excuse me?” Said a voice from behind him.
”What, your name ZIM too?” Morgan said as he turned to face the voice, held by some humanoid male.
“Sorry, thought you said Sims. Never mind.”
Morgan continued towards the door, occasionally stumbling but never really risking taking a step that would land him face-first on the floor. Before he could exit, however, one of the news holovids caught his eyes with a new, just-in story that held particular interest to him. Vera Nico had struck, and blown up a bank on Denon.
”I COULD HAVE BEEN THERE!” he shouted as he pointed at the screen. ”I could have stopped that. All they would have had to do is stop by to pick me up and what would we have instead? 'Nico Caught! Cyborg among those hailed as heroes!'”
“Yeah, keep dreaming.” Came an anonymous voice from behind.
”But noooooo, we got better things to do.” He said mockingly, ignoring the voice. ”Thanks a lot, ya joiks! That’ll teach ya!”
”I am so glad right now that I am a droid, and therefore incapable of being embarrassed.”
”Yeah, whatever.” Morgan said as he waved off the droids comment and stumbled out the exit.
(Click Here to Continue the Story.) _________________ Morgan ZIM: Bounty Hunter, Gun for Hire, Freelance Peacekeeping Agent, Cybernetic Scoundrel, and all around disruptor of the normal order of things. |
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