Cochlear Assault (With a Fucking Tank) by Savage

This actually happened.

Saturday night I was riding around on Buttercup, my restored '57 Harley, when I decided to notice how cold it was outside. Seeing a trendy bar/grill up on my left, I decided to grab a drink and warm up a bit. I parked my bike and stowed my prize 60 inch pink tassels in my bags and went inside. I grabbed the doorhandle when - crimeny - some broseph rams through the door in an attempt to get his popped collars and faux-hawk through with his ego intact. He gave me a toolish headnod; I punched through his torso. Shaking the blood off my jacket I stepped inside where the sounds of bad kereoke and the smell of dead metabolisms greeted me. I got out a cigarette from the case in my pocket and lit up. I took a few steps when I remembered smoking in bars is now illegal, so I walked over to the petting zoo and extiguished my coffin nail in a pile of hay, which started a fire. Hilarity ensues.

I mosey'd up to the bar and ordered a beer. The barkeep places my pint before me, then reaches for her megaphone under the counter. She recants insults at my hops for 30 seconds, which I can only imagine raises the alcohol content. One of my ears was bleeding, but that's normal. In the back I see a crowd of people surrounding the pool tables, it looks like tonight a high-stakes pog tourney is going out. On person misses with the slammer, they are taken out back and shot. I decide not to play. That turns out to be a great decision.

I then leave and go home.