Whiskey

Eastwood's bars is the most popular place for both
criminals and monsters. As well as the ones who catch them.
Bars are one of the things unchanged since West becamed a nation except the increase of sales of whiskey and scotch.
For some strange reason people stopped drinking Miller and Bud Light. Those famous beers soon vanish from existance and the people who made whiskey products prospered well. Whiskey became a new rage and whiskey is the main cause of events in our story but I'll let someone else tell the story,,,


It was a hard day. My wife recently was shot and killed during a mugging. She had no money so the mugger got pissed and shot her dead. My boss at the shoe factory fired me claiming I been stealing the merchandise. I stole shit. To top it off a cop thought I looked like someone who owed me money and beat the hell out of me. Once he saw he made a mistake he diddn't apologized or nothing,just strolled off. Goddamn prick.
I just had enouph to buy one shot of whiskey.
I raised it to the air...
"To life or whats left of it..."I said to myself.
Right before I could take a drink some dumb bastard fell on me and I dropped the whole shot.
I stood up and saw the guy walking off.

I tapped his shoulder. It was Sinatra James. He ran a an antique store and well loved in the community and he was a touph man.
"You spilled my drink."
"So?" He responded.
"Ain't you gonna pay for it?"
He chuckled and said,"No. I think you're better without it..."
Sinatra turned to leave but I yanked him back.
"Listen,you no good bastard. I'm not havin' a good week and I'll kindly apperciate that you do not make it worse..."

The man in front of me is strong but I'm stronger. I have arms of steel and rock hard knuckles. I have skill because being a black man I constantly have to fight off white bastards who think all I am is a nigger.
In this world racism isn't illegal. There are some good men who spend their life hanging racists who kill and torture but sadly theres no crime for killing a man just because his skin color doesn't suit your fancy.

Sinatra tries to jab at my nose but I quickly grab his fist.
Three men jump me from behind and hold me.
Sinatra's friends...I was hoping he was alone.
They all beat the shit outta me. My eyes turn black, my ribs break,and my face bleeds.
Finaly one holds me up and Sinatra pulls a buck knife to my throat.
"Listen,you no good drunkard. You're lucky I'm so patient. Now tell me you're sorry and I won't have to slit your throat." He said with fire in his eyes.
I look up at him with my body feeling like a corpse and tell him,"Vengance is worse that what is firstly done..."
I then spit blood at his mule looking face.
Angry I feel the blade slice my throat and I black out.
I'm dead.
--
I awake in a white room and this man with greenest eyes I have ever seen walks up to me.
"You're lucky the bartender got you here so fast. That man did cut you deep but miraculously you survived. You were lucky."

I realized he was a doctor and I got up.
I left the hospital without paying the man who saved my life but I'll give him a prayer.
I run to the bar I recently got cut upped in and grabbed my horse.
The bastard who cut me will not only feel remorse but he'll feel pain.He will hurt,he will will weep,and he will pay.
I ride to my house. Its as small as a shack but I raised two kids here and they have grown up right. I just wished I knew where they are so I could say goodbye.
I go into my bedroom and under my bed is my gun. A crappy sixshot with only three bullets in it. It'll have to do.
I eat the last bit of food I have left,a bruised apple.
I get back on my horse and ride.
I reach halfway to town and stop my horse to ask some resident which way to the City Square but theres noone here which annoys me. Noone is ever around when you need them.

I know Sinatra James is at the Pools Club bragging about this and I decide to hit him where it hurts.
The Pools Club if you're wonderin' is a restraunt that has a famous pool room that was dedicated by Sherman Ang, a war general in the Everchange War which was the major war that most blame for the fall of society. (AKA the new nation of West)

Anyways, I decide to to travel to City Square and hurt something Sinatra hard...
I walk past the huge crowd that is City Square. Everyone is here because its a sale and if we learned anything from the collapse of civilazation is that never take sales for granted,ever.
I walk by crooks, bounties, bounty hunters,farmer, honest people,and complete monsters. I finaly find who i'm looking for.
Blind Charlie.

Blind Charlie isn't actualy blind but hes a talker, give him a note or a word and he'll spread it around for you. The reason why hes called "Blind" Charlie si because a common joke is that he uses his mouth than his eyes.

I slip Charlie a note in his pocket and pat his shoulder. I keep on walkin'. He opens up the note and looks towards me.
I stare at him and he nods.
I told Blind Charlie to spread to all of Sinatra James' friends that I demand an apology or else.
--
Within an hour Blind Charlie finds me sittin' in on the curb. I was waitin' for news and he came with them.
He handed me a note and disappeared in a moment. I open the letter and it read...
"Dear dirty old nigger,
You are nothing. You are shit on my shoes. I have more friends than you have realatives. You get no apology and I suggest you never threaten me again and be glad Jesus let you survive. I don't see why he would want to though. You are a no good sack of shit. You seek justice on a spill of whiskey?
Find a hobby.
Love,
-Sinatra J.-"

I smirk and I tell myself hes gonna wish he said sorry.
I follow a young blonde that has to be at least 19 and she enters a small house.
I open the house door and walk in. She gasps and demands to know who I am. all I do is smirk and grab her neck and twist.
Shes dead and I walk out.I go home for some sleep.
--
I awake with a note on me that seems to be from Blind Charlie.
It reads...
"Dear dirty old nigger,
Is that your vengance,your justice?
Killing my youngest sister? Boy, you are going to have to do better since I never liked her anyways. She owed me money and you just saved me time from killing her myself.
Thanks again.
Love,
-Sinatra J."
My smile turns to a frown and I crumble the letter.
First off I should tell you that in the future you are still considered a decent man if you kill a family member if they owe you money since cash si so hard to get these days. Siantra was still a decent man even after killing four of his siblings and now he has five dead siblings.

I then decide to do the worse than before and go after what he truly loves...money.
I leave my shack and enter his store where he is sadly not there. I burn the place to the ground and shoot the one clerk dead with just one shot.
I lauph as I see his shithole of a store burn to the ground. I stare at the flames until all I see is ashes.
I then leave hom eto sleep now satified that I finaly paid back sinatra James.
--
I awoke with another note thats read
Dear dirty old nigger,
My store? I was planning to start a new buisness anyways. You just saved me time again. I think you should give up...You are getting close to my nerves and I think you know personaly that you shouldn't get me mad.
Love,
-Sinatra J."

I am pissed. My anger roars and I break lamps, toys, chairs,and anything I can get my hands on in my shack. I huff out fire through my nose and storm out. I now have vowed to make him Truly pay.
I break down a wooden door and I enter the home of the man who slit a negro's throat...
--
Sinatra James enter his house to see his two children dead.
I stand over their bodies with a smile. Siantra James was many things.
He may not care if you killed his friends who he can get more of or his sisters since he has many of them or his shops since he can just buy more but his kids.
He only had two of them and they can't be replaced or bought.
His eyes grew wide and he fell to his knees. This was the first time I saw a man cry and I loved it even though I did a sin so terrible that when I did it I could hear the devil crackle.

"You...you...no good nigger..." Is what he stutters out,"all this for a goddamn shot of whiskey??"
He aims a gun at my head and I do not move.
"Justice is justice but this ain't it. Look at yourself you became what I always said your people are...just plain old niggers with no hearts. You had no right to kill my children... no right in hell!"
I walk up to him and put my head directly to the barrel.
His teeth clench with fury and I know he wants to so badly blow my brains out.
I then stare directly in his eyes and say...
nothing. I haven't talked since the incident and I just realized something. I could not speak. His throat must have ruined my voicebox.

He notices and says,"Isn't this funny? You get your vengance and can't even gloat. You lose your voice and I lose my kids? Is that a nigger's view of fairness? Those bullets you shot in my children's gut will cost you quite a bit in hell..."
My eyes grow wide and I see him fire.
I am dead. I do not wake up.

Sinatra may have been a no good bigot but he was right for once.
I may have lost my voice and made a man just like me, someone with nothing to lose. I have lost my respect,my hope,and my wife. I did not care what I seeked,sinful or not and all I did was search for vengance.
This was not a story about racism or the horrors of using the word nigger but the effects of mistakes and the what happens if all you seek is unbalanced justice.
I once said Vengance is worse than what is firstly done.Sadly, I was right...
My vengance created another vengance...against me.
Sinatra is now a man who lost everything
who will seek the same thing I did. He
won't rest until he slaughters the only
thing that I had left to care for.
my children.

-The End-