Round One, on the house

"Pour me one?"

She starts to reply, and gets the first syllables of an insult out before she realizes he's only asked for a drink. She'd been expecting something else. The old man looks at her expectantly.

Before she can answer, the building suddenly creaks. It's the wind. Lots and lots of wind, pouring down out of the sky and slamming into the outside of the building. There's the sound of windblown objects rolling and colliding. Everyone in the cafe tries to look unconcerned by the sudden intrusion of the outside world.

There's a crash that can only be something large and made of glass becoming lots of sharp little somethings, and then the wind goes back to wherever it came from. The cafe is quiet again.

The pregnant woman looks at the old man hopefully. Maybe he's forgotten about the drink. No. He's still waiting for an answer.

"You...." she starts to say one thing, but gives up. "Here." She fills the old man's glass a third of the way, then puts the bottle next to her own glass. He takes a cautious sip and tries not to cough any back out.

"Haven't had that..." and then more sound from outside interrupts the conversation. Footsteps. It sounds like an entire army is going past the building, in total silence except for their boots. The cadences are strange though. The steps are nonrhythmic, some shuffling, some too fast, some just uneven. Maybe this army is skipping past. Maybe this army has been drinking. Maybe this army isn't trained all that well. Maybe this isn't an army.

The gray man in the corner eyes the door with excitement. For the first time in a while, his breathing is quiet and unlabored. He has to force himself to look away, back down to his table. His pained breathing returns.

The pale young woman buries her face in her knees, still hugging them to her chest. She doesn't make a sound.

THE KING! perks up at the sound of the footsteps. He looks at the front door, and laughs. "There they go again!" he says to no one in particular. Seeing heads turning in his direction, he pulls his scepter from the corner pocket of the pool table and waves it grandly at his court. He's oblivious to the pitying looks several of them are directing his way.

The gray man in the corner is not looking at THE KING! He's still trying to keep his eyes on the table in front of him. He puts both hands flat on the table, and then suddenly slaps the table surface and jumps to his feet.

The antics of THE KING! are forgotten as everyone's attention shifts to the gray man's corner.

He climbs onto the table he was sitting at. His head pushes a green lamp sideways, and his boots knock an ashtray off of the table onto the floor. He's clearly about to do something drastic.


1) The Pregnant Woman talks him down

2) The Old Man goes into action

3) Let's see where he's going with this