An Angry Chef, a Tea Party, and a Riot

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An Angry Chef, a Tea Party, and a Riot

Connor and I made our way back to the tavern where we found Stephane cursing in French. Sam and William were gone and we didn’t know where they had gotten to.

“Stephane, what’s wrong?” I asked.

“Where is Sam Adams?” Connor persisted.

“Who cares,” Stephane shouted from his kitchen as we stood in the doorway. “I’ve been robbed! Ils vont me le payer ces scélérats de merde…” Stephane stormed past us after grabbing a butcher knife that was stuck inside a cutting board as he continued to curse the British Crown in French.

“Do you know what he is saying?” Connor leaned over to asked me.

“’Those pieces of shit are going to pay for this.’” I muttered with a small grin. “This was never my favorite memory. We should do our best to eliminate the guards as silently as we can that Stephane will piss off to avoid further conflict.”

“Fair enough,” Connor said as we walked out of the tavern after Stephane.

“Where are you going?!” I called after Stephane who had continued on his little rage down the road.

“To get back what’s rightfully mine!” He yelled over his shoulder before he approached two red coats standing around talking. “Oh! Regardez! Some pathetic Redcoats waiting for a beating! I will match your face to your jacket, crapule!”

The Redcoats looked pissed when they noticed Stephane calling them out. They pointed their guns at him.

“You’ll pay for that!” one of the Redcoats shouted at Stephane thrusting his bayonet at him.

“You take the one closest to Stephane and I take the other,” I muttered to Connor as I loaded an arrow into my bow.

“Good luck,” he muttered back pulling his tomahawk from his belt.

“I don’t need it,” I said with an evil grin.

“We will see.”

I came up from behind the red coat and took a few steps back to fire an arrow into his head. He staggered forward his blood pouring from the head wound. Without missing a beat, I thrusted my hidden blade into his back throwing him down as he shouted in pain.

Looking up, I saw Connor had already downed his soldier and was grinning at me from the other side of Stephane.

“Shut up!” I shouted crossing my arms over my chest.

Connor laughed one of his rare laughs at me and gave me another genuine smile.

Stephane continued on his rage.

“Ces Conquins me prennet mon père au Canada et volià qu’ils me ravissent ma propriete ici. il suffit!” he roared as he rans towards a large group of people.

“What?” Connor asked as he approached me.

I rolled my eyes and smiled as I said, “The dirty bastards take my father from me in Canada and now they take my property in Boston, I’ve had enough.” I said it in my best French accent.

Connor grinned under his hood.

Stephane ran into the center of a large, pissed off crowd and yelled, “We are not English! We are not King’s men! We are free! But the King sends these Redcoats to push us around! They are not our masters! This is our city! Let’s show them who owns it! It’s time to fight!”Stephane rallied up the colonists and they shouted and cheered starting another riot.

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