AUTHOR'S NOTE: Umm...one more from the boredom files? Actually, I'm just writing this because I've had a teensy bit of writer's block. "GASP!" you might say. "NIMBLNYMPH has...writer's block?" Sadly, yes, even I get writer's block. It's very rare and I hate it and I want it to go away! It's in regards to Yaoi, unfortunately...all of the little concepts in my head SUCK ASS right now! So...here's a quickie. It's silly, I know, but I'm in a bit of a jam...
The bartender sighed, rolling his eyes as he wiped a beer mug out and stored it under the counter. The same four men were sitting at that table STILL! They'd been there for almost three hours, playing the same damn game over and over and over...
"Sanzo?" the black haired one asked of the monk. It didn't show through the pleasant smile, but the tone implied he was hesitant to even speak.
"Shut up," the monk answered sharply shuffling the cards in his hand. A cigarette sat in the ash tray next to him, smoke curling in the dim light from the over head chandelier. It was the only bit of fanciness in the bar, a consession to the missus. She was always on about frilly pillows and cozy country items. She didn't seem to understand a bar meant spit and cigarette butts on the floor, blood stains on the table clothes and lots of broken glasses. Not to mention fights, prostitution and gambling. Why she would want a damn chandelier was beyond him. But, she WAS the missus...and he had to keep her happy...
"Come on, asshole, you're holding the game up," the red haired one pressed, stubbing out his cigarette and finishing off his beer. Three barmaids were standing around behind him, eyes wide and shiny, clutching their trays to their breasts like their shirts were off and they were suddenly shy virgins. Lazy sluts! They'd ignored all the other guests that night simply because he winked at them. The bartender grunted and made a quick mental note to collect all their tips for the evening. That should teach them to stand around all night!
"I said, shut up! I'm thinking."
"But, Sanzo, there's nothin' to think about!" The brunette one, the boy, leaned back in his chair, cards folded in one hand, and stared up at the chandelier. Then, he began in a sing-song voice,"I'm huuuungry! I want some fooooood! And I wanna sleeeeeep! But you're taking too-"
WHACK! The priest pulled a paper fan out of nowhere and layed one upside the kid's head. The bartender made another mental note to get himself a paper fan to beat those worthless girls with when they got this lazy. He'd use their tip money to buy it with. He glanced up, noticed the guys weren't looking, spit into his rag and polished off a stubborn stain on one of the glasses. What they didn't know couldn't hurt them, right?
"OW! Damn...that really hurt!" The boy rubbed his head, now sitting upright and casting pouting eyes at the monk.
"You expected it to tickle?" the monk replied sourly, shuffling his cards again. He took a drag, holding the cigarette lazily between his fingers. The bartender frowned again when he saw the leather over that pale hand. What the hell kind of monk wore leather? He looked more like a fetish factory than a holy anything!
"No...but I didn't expect it to hurt THAT bad!"
"Goddamn it," the red head shouted, throwing his cards face down on the table and glowering. It was hard to tell from here, but his eyes looked to be the same crimson as his hair. Hmmm...not many halfbreeds around these parts. No worries, though. His bar tab was high enough the bartender could conveniently forget about taboo for the evening. And if he happened to need company later...those girls always were better on their backs than serving ale. "This is the longest fucking game of cards I have EVER been forced to sit through in my life! And I've played some fucking idiots in my days!"
"Are you implying...I'm an idiot?" The very tone was so icy and cold the bartender reached under his counter for the heavy club. Yeah...the blonde was DEFINATELY not a monk! Monks were good, pious people with gentle voices. This one had to be a criminal, possibly a murderer. Or worse, a thief! He could afford to lose some staf, but his money...the missus would kick him out of the house for sure!
The cold tone was enough for the halfbreed as well, who laughed nervously and held his hands up as if to ward off an attack that had yet to come. Little beads of sweat dotted his forehead. "Nope...not implying anything!" He also didn't take back the idiot part, the bartender noticed.
"Hmph...fucking kappa. Go send one of your admirers to get us more beer."
The red head turned to glance over his shoulder, flashing a flirty smile at the three girls, who all gasped and blushed. "So...which of you three lovely ladies wants to get us some more booze?"
"I will!" they all screeched before fighting to get to the bar first. The bartender quickly poured more beer from the tap, setting it on the counter before jumping back out of the reach of long fingernails. Damn!
"Easy, girls, or you're payin' fer what you spill," he snarled at them.
Sada, Sanyu and Shan quickly stopped fighting and carefully brought the drinks over, nudging each other hard to serve the red head first. Sanyu won easily. She was both taller and stronger than either of the other two. The bartender had a moment's pride that his daughter was such a tough cookie!
The black haired one sighed and removed the monocle over his eye, cleaning it off on his shirt sleeve. "Sanzo, I think you might be over analyzing this a bit. It's just a simple game of-,"
"If it's so goddamn simple, then why don't you have any cards down?" the monk snapped. "And whose brilliant idea WAS this in the first place?"
"Look, we discussed this before dinner," the black haired man explained patiently, like he was talking to an angry child. He also ignored the first question as to why he didn't have any cards on the table. The red head had four, and the boy had twelve. "Whenever we play a game, it's usually poker, majong or black jack. Goku wanted to play this, and you agreed to it. No one held a gun to your head and forced you to sit down and play. No pun intended." No pun intended? The bartender's eyes flickered to the priest and then back. Yes...someone was carrying a piece! He checked under the counter to make sure his little pistol was still there. It was, thank the gods for that!
"I only agreed to get him to shut up!" the blonde argued bitterly, shuffling through his cards again and scowling.
"But you still said you would, Sanzo," the boy piped up quickly. "So now you've gotta! Come oooon! Whatcha gonna do?"
Sighing, the monk studied his cards again, violet eyes practically burning hole through the beaten deck. Everyone was staring at him, waiting for him to make his move. Even the bartender stopped polishing his glassware to watch. Please, Buddha, let him FINALLY decide... "Do you have... a red three?" he asked slowly, pinning the boy with that same glare.
The boy looked at his cards, frowned, and then gave him a big grin. "Go fish!"
Snarling, the monk threw his cards on the table and stood up. "Fuck this, I'm outta here!" He left the other three sitting at the table and stomped down the hall to their room, slamming the door after himself.
"Goddamn it," the red head drawled, grabbing all the cards lying on the table and stuffing them back into the box.
The boy blinked a couple times and turned to the black haired one questioningly. "Did I win?" he asked. It was obvious from the hopeful look in his eyes that he hardly ever won these games.
The black haired man smiled and folded his cards up, handing them to the red head who added them to the pack before sticking them inside his vest pocket, all the while asking what each girl was doing later. The bartender would be collecting those earnings as well...after all, it was HIS bar! "Yes, Goku, you won. The game's over."
"YIPPEE! I WON, I WON!" The boy jumped out of his chair, tipping it over and danced around all the way to the room, chanting 'I won' the whole way.
The bartender sighed and resumed his polishing. It was about damn time! That had to be the longest game of Go Fish he'd ever witnessed in his life!