They sit in the corner of the establishment slowly nursing their drink and working on an intricate puzzle. When the bar fight starts, a person falls on the table disrupting the puzzle. The whole place holds its breath, but the person, this time, is allowed to walk away, safely. If there's a fight, do NOT bug the person sitting with that puzzle. -- Anon Guest
The good advice that everyone should know. Don't walk unsuspecting down dark alleyways. Don't wear white when you're doing dirty work. Don't try to eat anything bigger than your own head.
But most especially - don't annoy the one person sitting quietly in a fighting bar[1].
That is the one person in the entire place who's the deadliest and the most dangerous. The roughest, toughest, and gruffest of them all. Cross that person, and they can only whisper about what they think happened to you, because nobody will ever find your corpse. This is the Edge Territories. There's always a person like that in a bar like that. It's almost a rule.
Here at the Box'n'Burp, there are no booths. Just hardy plascrete tables and finger food in bowls[2], and drinks served in battle-rated glass, on account of what the booze there does to metal. And, of course, that one person calmly working on something at their table.
Ze's not more muscular than anyone there. There's no visible weapons either. Nothing sharper than the writing tool ze's using to jot things down in a notebook. Those with an ear to hear it would perceive a faint muttering.
Of course, that hypothetical observer would have to work hard to perceive it, since the afternoon bar fight was well underway.
It should have been business as normal, if only Barg Starwrecker hadn't missed at throwing The Jawbreaker through the window. The Jawbreaker bounced against the frame, and went sprawling over the quiet one's table.
Notebook, pen, and papers went flying.
The fight came to a shocked standstill. The Jawbreaker had done the unforgivable. It was if the universe held its breath to see what would happen next.
Planets danced, black holes consumed parts of the universe, galaxies spun... and The Jawbreaker, one of the meanest denizens there, wet herself in utter terror.
The quiet one retrieved the notebook, the papers, and picked up the pen.
This was it.
This was the part where someone lost an eye.
The quiet one yawned, stretched, and said, "Good evening, gentlebeings. Carry on." Then ze left, adding a tip to the bartender on the way out.
All things considered, The Jawbreaker got lucky.
[1] Fighting Bar: An establishment where alcohol and aggression are not only expected but encouraged. Generally indicated by the extreme lack of breakable objects and the mandatory self-repairing window to throw people through.
[2] They know better than to give the clientele cutlery.
[Photo by Alex Knight on Unsplash]
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