[ WP ] A man walks in to a bar for his usual drink , but his life is forever changed the second he takes his first sip .

Mercs had to be the most run down, back nebula shithole of a bar this side of the Red Moon and Crass loved it. He loved the way the front door didn ’ t quite shut ever since that green bastard had gotten his head smashed into it. He loved the real wood imported from Myosec 4 and how it wouldn ’ t stop growing vines and leaves no matter how many times Barbie cut it back. 
 
 Ah, Barbie. 90 percent woman, 100 percent human. The missing ten percent was the arm she ’ d lost to jammed up turbine a decade or so ago but did she go off and get it replaced with one of those shit-for-hydraulic fakes? Not his Barbie. One armed and she could still sling drinks with the best of ‘ em. 
 
 No matter that it was the only bar. Even if it weren ’ t, it was where Crass would be. Every night at 2105 from now until forever or until his liver finally gave out – this was home. 
 
 Crass settled up to the bar and dropped his tool bag to the ground next to his stool. His stool. Everyone knew it too. Another thing he loved. 
 
 “ Barbie!! ” He bellowed. 
 
 His favorite lady came out from the back with her one hand elbow high in suds, her fat cheeks red and rosy. 
 
 “ Lean over here and give me a kiss! ” 
 
 Barbie laughed, her voice thick, her vocal chords painted black by the passing of too many deep space cruisers. She patted her silver blonde curls with a wet hand and then blew him a kiss. 
 
 “ Nah ” Crass whined a bit. “ A real kiss! Lean over this wood and give me some sugar. ” 
 
 She laughed again and pulled a towel from over her shoulder. She wiped the area in front of him, clearing a few leaves and space bugs from the bar. 
 
 “ You been drinking the gear lube, Crass? ” 
 
 “ You ’ re breaking my heart, woman! ” 
 
 “ Don ’ t let the mister hear you say that or you ’ ll have more than a broken heart you sappy son-of-a-bitch. ” 
 
 They both smiled at one another and laughed. Barbie was married through and through. Every day Crass said the same lines and every day she ’ d turn him down. It was their game. They played. It was nice. Out here – anything that made you smile was nice. And after all, Crass wasn ’ t the type though to come between a man and his lady. He had a code – even if it wasn ’ t as high and mighty as some others. 
 
 “ Well then, if I can ’ t have you, I ’ ll take a drink and drown my sorrows. ” 
 
 Barbie had already known. Crass ordered the same thing every day and before the words were out a steaming frothy green liquid sat boiling up from over the top of a dented tin can. 
 
 She patted his hand and then walked back into the kitchen to finish up her washing. 
 
 Crass picked up the can and turned around, leaning against the bar and surveying the clientele. It was a good night for Barbie. There were all the usual guys. Smithy from the welders group. He was sometimes fun to talk to. He had great stories about banging the whores over on Delta Frey. Bull was in the back. Crass had never liked that purple skinned ass and wasn ’ t much in the mood for a fight tonight. But there, next to the door, hiding in the corner like a bunch of scared little kittens was a fresh group of cosmo-nots. Their grey uniforms didn ’ t even have snot on the sleeves. Crass smiled. They didn ’ t know what they were in for. 
 
 The fresh fear of an unending blackness, stars that reach out forever and never seem to get closer. Crass remembered the terror of being trapped in an oversized metal coffin and jettisoned into the emptiness all too well. He had the horror stories. Might as well share a few. 
 
 His black heart smiled as he pushed away from the bar and made his way to the kiddies. 
 
 “ Mind if I join you? ” He asked. 
 
 Three wide eyed, pale, baby butt faces looked up at him. One didn ’ t. 
 
 Beanpole shook his head. In his mind, Crass had already given them names. 
 
 He already knew everything about them. “ Beanpole ” was the leader – which didn ’ t bode well for the rest. “ Jitters ”, sitting to the left, probably had some sort of addiction before he was “ recruited ”. He couldn ’ t stop chewing his lip and his leg was bouncing faster than the pistons on a speed raider. “ Glasses ” was the smart one. He was quiet and scared as shit – just like the rest of them. But he had the calmness in his eyes. It ’ s a half-deadness kind of calm where the mind takes over. He ’ d make it back. Probably. 
 
 Crass pulled out a chair and sat but didn ’ t say anything. He liked the awkwardness. 
 
 The one who hadn ’ t looked up sat directly across from him. Black hair, jet black – the color of tar and oil and ice blue eyes. Crass swallowed. Glasses might not make it back after all. He knew that look too. This one was cold, like space. He ’ d break inside a week and the whole crew would be floating bags of blood after he was through with them. This one was a killer. 
 
 Thoughts of toying with the boys disappeared as “ Killer ” stared at him from across the table. Crass cleared his throat and his fingers tightened like a vice around the can. He was feeling very thirsty all the sudden. Parched. His eyes darted between all four boys. 
 
 Crass lifted the drink to his lips. 
 
 They knew. Not so stupid after all. They weren ’ t scared of the monsters out there. They were scared of the one right here. The black haired boy ’ s eyes narrowed as Crass placed the sharp edge of the can to his slips. 
 
 “ So this is it. ” He thought. 
 
 He worried a bit about Barbie in the back. Bull could take care of himself and carried a canon around with him all the time anyway. Too bad. He ’ s the one that Crass would have liked to see blasted through. 
 
 Crass closed his eyes and swallowed. There was a flash. A burning pain. 
 
 Some people are such dicks. 
 
 -002 
 
 
 
 
 Edit* The ending is a cop out, I know. I would have liked to take the story further but it's a bit long already.: ) Are there word limits to these? I'm new here. Hope you liked it. Let me know what I can do better.: )
