Hello everyone! I welcome you to one of my new fictions that popped up in that crazy space I like to call my head. I must warn you, however, that the first two chapters might seem a little… weird. This story is a self-insert story with a… certain type of humor that not everyone likes. However do not let that discourage you! This "humor" will become less and less a the story progresses, so I hope that you read the full thing before judging. I wanted to have the same effect as RWBY has when starting from Volume 1 "happy, cheerful" to Volume 3 "dark, sad, slice of life and tragic." I sincerely hope you enjoy this work of mine. Thank you for taking the time to decide to read this story. It is most appreciated.
There comes a time in every bartender's life where they feel that they should call it quits. This can happen after a year of working in the madness or twenty years. Working in the bartending industry can be physically wearing on a person. There is only a select group of people who are cut out for it and only a handful of people who can do it for life. In every bar and or restaurant that I have visited over the years there has been at least one "lifer" who has worked there.
"Lifers" are a special breed of people and at times I too have questioned my own status in the bartending and serving industry. There have been times where I made conscious decisions to take jobs outside of this industry for less money, in hopes that I would be able to kick the lifer label. I now know some distinct differences between the "lifer" status bartender label and the "I can't get enough" bartender status. For those bartenders wanting a break or needing an escape from the job due to the fear of the "lifer" status, there is still hope!
My name is Ramses. I know, a pretty uncommon name for a nineteen year old, but it's my name, and I'm proud of it. Like I stated above, I am what you could call a "lifer". I have been working at the same restaurant for eight years now. Yes, eight years. It's a family restaurant. It started with me doing the dishes for more than four years. In all honesty I miss being a dishwasher from time to time. I always loved talking to the chef's in the kitchen, sometimes even getting the opportunity to help them out with their dishes.
It was only after I turned sixteen I started to work as a bartender, and a whole new world opened up for me! I got to meet the strangest of people, and got to work with some of my colleagues who I only saw running in and out of the kitchen to give me the dirty dishes and bring the food to the customers that had ordered it. In all honesty being a bartender is a pretty cool job. And when you have an uncle that also works in the family company to back you up, you tend to have a lot of fun. Especially during the evenings. And this was one of those evenings.
I was currently closing the restaurant, wiping all the tables clean and getting ready to head on to the bar and help my uncle clean it. I grabbed hold of the bucket of hot water I had been using to moisten my cloth to clean the tables. Walking to the bar, I placed the bucket of water on it and let out a sigh of relief. "Today sure was a busy night, huh Freddy?" I asked.
My uncle popped his head over the bar, smiling as he rubbed his hand over his bald head. "Indeed it was, honey."
I chuckled at that, shaking my head while doing so. "You know, Freddy, I've got to ask. You're gay, everyone within a ten foot radius knows this. But I have to know; how do you do it, man? I mean you're fifty eight years old and you're still able to get boys who are twenty to thirty years younger than you to go to bed with you. I haven't even gotten a girlfriend and you're able to do these things." I fell to my knees in a dramatic way, holding up my hands. "Teach me your ways oh holy one!"
My uncle couldn't help but laugh at my stupidity. He patted my head, motioning for me to get up. "Well you have a nice butt." He said, pinching my butt cheeks. "And you're not ugly, not in the slightest. And I'm not just saying that because you're my nephew. No, I'm saying that as one gay man to another."
"Thanks, Freddy," I said, getting up and dusting of my knees. "But I'm not gay. I've told you that many times."
"Oh but you will be once you agree to go out drinking with me and my friends." He replied, laughing to himself as he playfully patted my shoulder. "I mean some of my friends are waiting for you to come out of the closet. Not even joking about that. They really, really want to taste some of that-."
"Uncle Freddy, please. I still want to get a good night's rest if you don't mind. I don't want to have nightmares." I cut him off.
"Or wet dreams." Freddy retorted, smirking at me.
"I've had enough of those." I replied, smirking to. "Now come on, let's get a move on so you can go home and I can head upstairs so we can both go to bed. Except for when you get home you'll probably have your boyfriend waiting for you."
"Who knows?" Freddy replied. "And to answer your question, my young, sexy nephew. You know who Freddy Krueger is, right?"
I nodded as a reply.
"Well you can call me Freddy Cougar, if you want to." He continued, laughing as he walked towards the bucket of water I had placed on the bar. "Now get cleaning, I'll head in to the back of the smoking area to clean the tables there. I'll be back in a jiffy."
I watched in amusement as Freddy made his way over to the back of the restaurant. In all honesty I was kind of glad I got to work with my uncle once more. When me and him worked together fun would always be around the corner. Whether it be my uncle's seductions—which I should add, are just meant for humorous intent. Or my own humorous seductions towards him. I don't know, it's just something me and my uncle do from time to time. If I had to describe my uncle… it'd probably be like this. "A happy guy who's always in for a bit of fun. His fluffy beard, his bald head—aside from a few locks of hair on the sides of his head—and his caring attitude… he was an uncle who I'd never want to trade in for someone else.
Having been so caught up in my own strain of thoughts, I failed to notice that four minutes had already passed. I took a quick glance at the smoking area only for me to notice that the lights were still out. Was Freddy really cleaning the area with the lights out? I shrugged and called out to him... no response.
"Uncle Freddy, where are you hiding? Are you having one of those weird sexual phone calls again?" I humorously asked, only to get no response once more. Okay, now I was getting a bit nervous. I slowly walked towards the smoking area, not wanting to be surprised by something, or someone…
"Freddy I swear to everything that isn't gay; if you have invited some of those weird friends of your again I'm shoving a dildo up your butt." I said, hoping that this comment would finally get my uncle's attention. I was shocked when I again got no response from my uncle. This was getting scary. Very much so. My uncle would never pull something like this on me, because I know how much he hates it when I pull something like this on him. I quickly ran back to the bar, walked over to a nearby cabinet, and opened it, revealing a set of keys. I quickly grabbed hold of one of the keys and ran towards a locked cabinet. In all honesty I was getting a bit paranoid. There had been a report of several burglary's these last couple of days, and I was scared one of them may have decided it to come into our house and steal some valuable stuff. I opened the locked cabinet and pulled out the Colt Anaconda 44 Magnum my stepfather had decided to place behind the bar. I found it to be a bit extreme… heck I barely fired the damn thing, and knowing the stories of some of the people who were ex-military… this weapon packed quite the punch. As if it were killer instinct I reached over for the small box that held the .44 ammunition. I grabbed hold of a certain amount of bullets, stored them into my pocket, and checked the weapon to see if it was loaded.
"Great, so they did decide to load the damn thing." I said to myself, closing the cabinet and walking back towards the smoker's area. "Freddy, if you can hear my then listen very closely. I am armed and have a loaded gun in my hand. So if you're playing with me then I advise you stop right now."
I again got no response from my uncle. I rubbed my temples with me free hand before slowly walking towards the smoking area. I felt like I was in some kind of horror movie. I sighed before entering the smoker's area. Now mind you that our smoker area is one of the biggest ones around town, so searching it was going to be a difficult task, especially because the light switch was at the end of the area. I took quick glances at every corner of the area, not wanting to be surprised. I felt my horror movie senses kick in and I instantly ran towards the light switch. I flicked the switch, but no lights came on. I grunted, turning my head before I smelled something. It smelled… gross. It smelled like someone's armpit sweat on a very, very hot day. "What the hell?" I questioned out loud, raising an eyebrow in confusion. "I don't remember this smell last time I checked here. Freddy, where are you at, man?" I asked once again, not surprised when I got no response from him again.
I was about to make a run for it, wanting to go upstairs and get my stepfather and my brother when I felt a sharp pain shoot up through my spine. It felt like someone just low-kicked me in the back when I fell to the floor. I tried getting up, the revolver having not left my palm because of the firm grip I had on it. I felt… tired? Why the hell was I feeling tired? I had so much energy only two hours ago.
"I swear if I get raped I'll shoot the guy's dick off." I breathed out before losing consciousness.
I prepared for the worst. I dared not to open his eyes. It hurt. My ass hurt. But not because I was… you know… assaulted, but because I landed on something. Something hard. I cringed when I tried to get up, shifting my arms underneath my back to push myself off the floor. I opened my eyes, rays of sunlight forcing me to close them again.
Wait, rays of sunlight?
I opened my eyes again, adjusting them to the bright environment. I slowly pushed myself up, confused and kind of broken in a way. My thoughts instantly shifted from where I was, to where I had dropped my Colt… or rather, my stepfather's Colt. My eyes shifted to my left hand, then to my right. No, it was not in the safety of my hands anymore. I looked down and the concrete I was standing on.
"Okay, why in the bloody fuck am I standing on concrete instead of a wooden floor?" I asked myself. Now this was weird. I don't recall going out for a stroll. And last time I checked it was late at night. The sun should not be shining right now. Then it hit me. I remember getting knocked out, or at least something between the lines of that. My mind tried to recall what happened, but all I remembered was that me and my uncle were cleaning up after the restaurant had closed. I… this was not funny. Not funny at all. I sighed, turning around when I suddenly heard a "cling". I looked down only to see the Colt Anaconda lying in front of my foot. I mentally fist pumped when I reached down to grab it. Feeling my finger wrap themselves around the revolver made me feel a bit safer. I looked up again, inspecting the sky and possibly something I could recognize about it.
It was then that I heard the sound of an engine. And talking. And that must mean there are people. Yes! So that means these people might be able to help me out! I quickly ran towards the sound, taking notice of my surroundings. I was in an alleyway. Okay, weird. The structures of the buildings seemed a bit off. Okay, that's weird too. But it was after I cleared the alleyway that found out that things had really started to get weird. I… don't know how to explain it, but this was not a place I recognized. This was defiantly not my home. Not at all.
And that's when I started to panic.
This was not good. Not good at all. I have no idea where I am. No idea how I ended up here, where "here" is. And there were people that just seemed… a bit off. But ignoring the people, I slowly walked forward. My nose suddenly picked up a scent. I scent I was all too familiar with.
"Why the hell do I smell fish?" I asked myself.
"Because you're in the docks, my friend." An unfamiliar voice answered from behind me.
I turned around only to be greeted by what I assumed to be a sailor. He had a fluffy moustache and wore a friendly smile on his face. "Are ya lost?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You… could say that, sir." I replied, slowly hiding my revolver behind my back. No need for him to think I'm a murderer or something. "Uhh, you wouldn't know where we are, would you, sir?" I asked, hoping to get a better chance at finding out where the heck I had ended up.
"Why you're in Vale. Where else would you be? Are you a student from Beacon, perhaps?" the sailor replied.
"Uh, you lost me at "Vale" sir. Listen am I on some kind of prank show? Is that it? If so then quit the act, I'm not buying it." I replied, getting a bit annoyed.
"Son, I don't know what ya mean, but you're in Vale, whether you like it or not. Now these docks are restricted to personal only, so you better get out before someone else finds you. The exit is that was," he said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. "Now come, kid, get going."
I could only nod. I wanted to say something, wanted to get answers… but all I could was walk away and comply with the sailor's request. My body seemed to be moving on its own. I felt like knocking myself out again, hoping that this was some kind of weird dream… or a nightmare. I exited the docks, and once I did, slumped to the ground, my back against a nearby fence that stood behind me. I held my hand to my face before closing my eyes.
"This can't be real. It just can't." I said to myself. I took a quick glance at my surroundings. Yep, it was all the same as I remembered. There were buildings I recognized. I recognized the docks. I recognized almost everything. "Vale. I'm… no, I refuse to believe this bullshit." I said to myself, forcing to push myself up. "There has got to be a logical explanation for all of this. I'm sure of it!"
I walked forward, determined to find out what the hell was going on in my mind when suddenly felt something brush against my… butt?
"Uncle Freddy?" I reluctantly asked.
"You know, if you weren't my nephew I would have done so many amazing things to you." my uncle replied, laughing to himself. "Where have you been?"
I turned around and instantly threw my arms around my uncle, embracing him in a bear hug. "You faggot!" I exclaimed, hugging him tightly. "I thought you were dead!"
"Well… I'm here now." Freddy replied, patting my butt. "Ramses, why do you… have a gun in you back pocket?" he asked, releasing me and looking at me with a sudden serious expression. "What are you doing with that gun?" he asked.
"I… I thought something bad happened to you." I replied, scratching the back of my head.
"Well… if I got assaulted I probably would have asked whoever did it if he was going to meet me at this place at the exact same time again. And I can put up a fight, mind you. But… I honestly have no idea why you would think something bad happened to me." Freddy replied, scratching his head. "In all honesty I thought something bad happened to you. By the way, you wouldn't mind telling me where we are now would you?"
"You wouldn't believe me, uncle." I replied, sighing. "All I can tell you is… well, we're not home anymore."
Freddy nodded in a sarcastic manner. "I can clearly see that. But the question remains, what are we going to do now?"
"I think a better question would be: How the hell did we end up here?" I corrected, shaking my head. "All I remember is fainting, or being knocked out by something. What about you? You were gone when I entered the smoking area, and that's why I grabbed the revolver and was prepared to shoot anyone who might threaten me."
Freddy shrugged, holding his chin in thought. "Well… I honestly don't remember. I remember smelling something really stinky, and then I… well then everything just went black from that point."
My ears perked up when he said that. "Wait. When you said you smelled something stinky, did it smell like armpit sweat?" I asked.
Freddy shook his head in disgust. "No, it smelled more like ball sweat." He replied.
"How do you know how ball sweat smells—no, actually, scrap that. I think I already know." I corrected myself, pinching the bridge of my nose. "So, uh, you have any plans this fine afternoon?" I asked hoping to lighten the mood.
"Well I was planning on fuck-."
"Never mind." I quickly cut my uncle off before he could finish his sentence. "You know what, just… let's just… ah man, I don't even know where to begin."
"Then why don't we start by asking people where we are." Freddy suggested.
"I already know where we are, uncle." I replied, shaking my head.
"Oh, then where are we?" Freddy asked.
"We're in a fictional world created by a YouTube channel called RoosterTeeth." I replied, looking at him with a dead serious expression planted on my face.
"Well… I have no idea what you just said, but it doesn't sound good at all." Freddy replied.
"Well it depends," I replied.
Freddy raised an eyebrow. "Depends on what?"
"It depends on many things. But first let me just shoot myself so I can end my suffering." I replied.