Another Night At The Dew Drop Inn
{Its just another West Texas Saturday night. The summer heat that oppresses the land even after the last rays of the sun have disapeared could fill even the sanest of men with violent thoughts. This drought stricken land, which, if one listened closely enough on a night like this, could almost be heard gasping and begging for the merciful rains which never come, is good for raising only one thing, true hell on earth. Yes, its just another Saturday night here at the Dew Drop Inn, surrounded by a multitude of Fords, Dodges, and Harleys, but a true storm brews within the tavern, a pair far more dangerous than any combination of thunder and lightning could ever be.}
...I'm not serving them again tonight, no way, Glen, I've got two kids back at my trailer who need a mother more than I need this damn job...
...Come on, Brenda, you're the only waitress I could get to work tonight, the others called in sick when they heard those two were back in town. Hell, do you think I really wanted to bartend tonight, but I own this place and someone had too. You're the only one who didn't run out on me like a damn rat...
...Can you really blame them, I wouldn't have come tonight either if I had known. As much as I like working for you, boss, I'm not going to risk my safety, hell, my life just to work here. You know I barely got away from those two last time, and no one's seen Gina in weeks...
{The two would then look across the smoky barroom, past the bikers and cowboys, the rig workers and rowdies who always frequent such places but rarely mean any harm. Their eyes only daring to look at that table for a moment, that ominous pair shrouded in the shadows, only two small glowing rings of fire visible, two cigarettes that would just as likely be put out in the flesh of the next human who came too close as be finished. Brenda then glares back at Glen as his words bite into her.}
...Look babe, I know you're scared, I know you want no part of those two tonight, but the bottom line is that I need you here tonight, and, if you walk out on me...don't bother to come back...
...What! You'd fire me over this?...I...I...I just can't stay, and you're a b*st*rd for forcing this sort of choice on me...
C'mon Brenda, can't you just treat them like normal...
{His words were quickly cut off as a waitress apron struck him square in the chest, followed a moment later by the slamming of the tavern door. Glen's eyes then filled with a mixture of loss for his best waitress, anger that she'd leave him, but most of all fear that he was now alone. He knew the others in the tavern made a living mostly by minding their own business, and not a one would give a second thought to protecting him from those two. At the same time of Glen and Brenda's falling out, a pair of longhairs who chose the wrong place on the wrong night wandered in, and though they knew to keep a low profile in such a place, the seemingly never ending supply of Willie and Waylon filling the bar soon led them to the jukebox in search of something more...this century. However, just as one of the men reached out to punch in b5, Rob Zombie's "Dragula", his intentions were cut short by a well aimed beer bottle from that same shadowed area of the tavern breaking into a million shards of glass against his skull. A moment later, the first glimpse of the West Texas Outlaws is gained, Tex and Snake's menacing presences moving swiftly toward the pair of men, Tex stepping on the back of the downed one's neck while Snake moves to within inches of the other, his foul beer breath blown directly into the man's face as he growls.}
...Boy, we got two rules 'round here. Rule number one is don't mess with the G*ddamned jukebox. Rule number two is never forget rule number one!...Look what we got here Tex, a couple of G*ddamned hippies...
...Yeah, I seen that, I wonder if these girls wanna dance, this one here's looking kinda rough though...
{Tex looked down to the unconcious one under his boot with a wicked grin, grinding that boot harshly into his neck. As the other hippie attempted to protest, Snake grabbed him by the back of the head}
...Why don't you shut that damn mouth while you can still talk...Bartender! Bring us a round of longnecks, and be G*ddamned quick about it!...
{Glen silently thought "Oh Sh*t" but did exactly what he was told, bringing four longnecks back to WTO's table...then quickly walking them over to the jukebox as Tex motions him over with an irritated glare}
...What's your damn problem, Glen, are your eyes going on you, didn't you see us standing over here...Hell, maybe I should help you out...and rip those damned eyes out of your stinking skull! Now get the hell back behind the bar where you belong...
{Tex and Snake then snatch the beers, laughing darkly as Glen ducks and slinks away. Snake then turns to the boy still standing, thrusting the bottle at him almost hard enough to knock out two teeth}
Drink boy! Third rule is you never turn down a drink when it's offered...What the hell you wearing boy? A WTF T-Shirt? What are you, some kind of wrestling fan freak?...Hell boy, don't bother to answer, We really couldn't care less, but we do have an interest in the WTF. Hell if we can find someone in their office with enough damn guts to hand us a contract, we'll be kicking the asses of all those pukes I'm sure you like, boy...Enough of this, You better finish that beer boy, you're gonna need something to kill the pain...
{Tex's massive hands reach down to grab the once unconcious but now reviving kid while Snake shoves the other hard against the wall. Suddenly, however, the sound of several sirens approaching can be heard in the distance, causing them to begrudgingly release their victims. Tex and Snake then finish their beers, both bottles hurled toward Glen as if saying they know he called the cops and that they will be back, possibly for him. Moments later, a beat up, coal black '74 Ford pickup peels out of the parking lot just as several patrol cars pull in, the pair of natural born killers heading into WTF territory.}
