"Aye my good man! Give me another pig ear!" I slammed down the tankard and bellowed.
"Coming!" The bartender yelled from the small back room.
I impatiently waved my fist in the air. "Hurry you tosser! I ain't got all night!" I was in a considerably horrid mood and every little thing annoyed me at that moment. "If you don't have pig ears then sheep tails or cow snouts are fine!"
"Wait you bloody git! Are you mad or what?" The man behind the counter growled and slammed another cup down before me. "You better be able to pay for all this."
I gulped down half the contents of my fourth drink in one large swig. My hand waved carelessly at the other tankards I had emptied and a scornful laugh escaped my lips. "Don't worry I ain't a miser unlike some rich ass bastards."
The face of a certain rich ass bastard popped up in my head and I snarled. That knob head was the death of me. He and his beastly wife-to-be could go lick a donkey's arse.
The three men next to me stopped their conversation to blatantly stare at me and my teeth gnashing.
"He's a nutter that one." One of the men glanced at me then leaned in and mumbled to his friend. They laughed and clanked their crummy mugs together.
"Who are you calling a nutter?" I swung my body to face them.
Those dirty bastards with their dirty mugs and their dirty jokes and dirty faces. I scoffed. Did I mention that they were dirty?
"I ain't no nutter!" I roared and sloshed my beer. How dare those filthy beasts insult me? I stood, ready to give them a piece of my mind, or fist. I had the disposition of an irritable harpy that had too few children to eat, all thanks to that maggot named Ambrose.
"Calm down mate." The man who spoke was large and meaty. He had an impressive beard that could give Karim a run for his money, and overgrown eyebrows that seemed to hang down over his eyes like curtains. A good natured laugh resounded from the giant fluff that covered the majority of his face. "We ain't insulting you. Nutter ain't always a bad word."
I stopped shaking my fist at them.
"Ye could be a good crazy ye know?"
I contemplated his assurance. Nutter actually sounded like a fairly friendly term. I couldn't exactly recall what it meant in my befuddled state, however I knew that it was commonly used as an insult. "Well but I ain't any nut or acorn! I'm a good man, I am!" I pounded my chest for effect.
The middle-aged men guffawed. "Yer seem like a cool lad, just a lil' barmy." The scrawny guy whose limbs seemed squeezed out from a tube, complimented. "Yer wanna drink with us?"
I grinned jollily, mood significantly better as I agreed. These men didn't seem too bad company.
The small crew stood up, all of them stumbling around like drunken sailors. The hairy one told me when I gave them a confused look, "Wer gonna go to te other room to drink some more booze from 'ose small cups."
My bewildered frown got him explaining. "I 'ave no goddy idea what it is but it's alcohol. A pretty darn good one in fact."
"Ahhh, I get it." I didn't get it at all.
We floundered our way to the other end of the bar in which the bearded man had kindly pointed out to me. It seemed vaguely familiar.
Why was this place so recognisable?
A lightbulb went off in my head. Wasn't this the room I had drunk that throat-burning booze when Ambrose and I were searching for the file?
At the thought of my employer, I slapped myself. Not mentally but physically. My cheek hurt, but it was a good reminder not to think about that man.
Wait, I mused. I had to remind myself to remind myself about that man to remind myself not to think about that man so that I would be reminded that I couldn't think of him...
I gave up. I honestly did. All that thinking was just driving me nuts and almonds.
I looked around at the place that held some fond memories, besides the fact that I patronised it with my boss. It was the dancing yellow piggies that were the highlight of my drinking expeditions. Thinking about them, I was more than eager to gulp down the whole bar.
"Aye!" The beanpole like man who earlier invited me to drink with them called out to the barwoman. "Two cups each for us lads!"
We plopped ouselves down on stools around a wooden table.
"Make it five cups for me!" I banged the table with my fist and hollered.
The sound of jaws dropping could be heard around our table. "Blimey! Are you sure about this buddy?" The third man with a red bloated face and better pronounciation asked. "This thing's strong as hell."
I beamed. "Isn't that the point?" My tolerance for alcohol should have improved slightly from my last encounter with it. I didn't feel nearly as drunk and didn't even stutter once after a few tankards! "Five shouldn't be any problem!"
Beard man hit me soundly on the back and I belched. "Quite impressive for a small guy like ye eh?
Poofing up my chest, I stuck on my most arrogant expression. "Don't judge a person by his or her size!"
The whole lot of us chortled even though even though I said nothing hilarious. That was the beauty of alcohol. The world seemed like a much happier place with a few drops of it in our systems.
The barwoman returned shortly with a tray of small metal cups. "Two for each and five for the young lad."
She shot me a slightly cautious and scared look.
She's afraid that you'll drink yourself to death.
I burped loudly in indignation. That couldn't be it. I was a magnificent imitation of a robust young man that made women cower at my feet!
I scratched my chin thoughtfully. Curse all those women who cowered before the male species or even bloody good imitations of them. Women are meant to stand strong against all adversities and wham the heads of all men that disagreed.
"What are ye thinking about?" The stick thin man queried and I mentally nicknamed him Scarecrow.
"Oh nothing." I dismissed and chugged down the clear liquid. It burned my throat more than I had anticipated and I spluttered.
Beard man pounded me on the back, almost forcing my lungs out. "Don't ye choke yerself to death just yet. Imma just starting to like ye."
I assured him, still coughing. "A few sips can't kill me." I was a strong woman who wasn't going to let a few drops of alcohol get the better of me!
His forest eyebrows drew together in concern and joined to look like a huge black caterpillar across his forehead. "That ain't just a few sips."
I shook my head. Men and their inability to count.
Round guy who didn't seem to care about whether I only drank a few drops or the whole River Thames, held up his drink and announced solemnly, "Cheers to the harsh unforgiving world!" We clinked our cups with a collective "Yeah!" and took a slurp.
"To te chance of all rich baboons drownin' te death in they filthy money." Scarecrow slurred, already quite drunk. I clinked cups even more enthusiastically.
"To all wealthy prats and their wives getting run over by their carriages!" I blustered.
"Aye!" We clinked and drank again.
These men were fast becoming my best friends as we cursed snotty rich people to hell.
Beard man who sat next to me went on to recite an engaging story of his encounter with some aristocratic braggart. He swung his arm out in a fit of excitement to accentuate his point and almost knocked my top hat clean off.
"Then that arse-licker 'ad te audo-audi-audacaty―"
"Audicaty." I supplied soberly.
"Ye sure it's audicaty? It ain't sound too right." The big hairy fellow looked down at my small frame in bafflement.
"Of course it is!" I glared in response. "Are you doubting me?"
"Hmm good point. Well anyway, that plonker had te audicaty te tell mah te piss off!"
We gasped and round guy roared, "If I were you, I'd have smushed his guts to puree!"
We clinked glasses in agreement for the millionth time. I was glad for companions that shared my sentiments.
After a while, I moved my eyes away from my new found best friends, a little bored with their stories. I looked at the scantily clothed woman on stage croaking out song lyrics that were on the verge of making my sweet sensitive ears bleed.
Blimey!
My eyes widened as I saw something that resembled a yellow piggy dancing a lively jig behind the lady. Just that this time it wasn't exactly yellow. It had bright red spots decorating its portly body.
"Garn!" I exclaimed. The red rain from my previous trip to this bar on the East end must have stained the poor dancing piggies.
"Where's Napoleon? Do you see him? I can't find him." I tapped Beard man on the shoulder and glanced around searchingly.
"What?"
"Napoleon! Don't you know him? He's the man who led the French Revi - revu - revolution."
Certain words were getting a little muddled in my head. But I wasn't drunk. Definitely not.
"Course I know him! But why would that geezer be 'ere?" Beard man looked utterly puzzled which I had no clue to why he was.
I huffed. "He was here the last time I came." I kind of missed the French man and Alexander the Great. They made great company, even in the bathroom. I was quite looking forward to playing chess with Napoleon, seeing how he whipped out a few great moves when playing with one of the piggies.
"Yer drunk man!" The large fuzzy guy exclaimed.
"No I'm not!"
He shrugged. "Wha'ever. But ye didn't tell us why yer here. We told ye our reasons."
All three pairs of glazed eyes focused themselves on me. Scarecrow prompted, "Ya, tell us!"
I fiddled with the hems of my oversized coat. Their expectant stares were quite pressurising, really.
"I came to get drunk and forget."
They snorted in unison. "Don't we all?"
I gulped down my last cup to calm my nerves. "Well...ah...I..."
Beard man growled, "Just spit it out lad!"
"Alright alright," I brushed them off in annoyance and took a deep breath. "MybossisgoingtomarrythisslagthatIdespise."
"What? Slow down!" Scarecrow's eyes widened.
I hissed, "My boss is going to marry this slag that I despise!"
"What does that have to do with you?" Round guy place his cup down and asked.
"I...I don't know." I concluded after a moment of hesitation. "I just don't like her."
Not liking her was an understatement. I wanted to pierce a blade through her belly and disembowel her. I would then chain her up and subject her to the terrors of the Chinese water torture until the liquid dripped a hole through her ugly head.
"Why don't ye like 'er?" Scarecrow leaned forward. "Is she a daft cow or what?"
"Nah." I wacked my palm on the table, making them jump. "She just doesn't deserve him."
"Him who?"
"My boss of course, you wanker!" I barked at the lanky man.
"So what? It's not like you want to marry your boss." The pudgy guy looked at me weirdly.
"Why would I want to marry that nasty geezer?" I choked. "He's incorriander - I mean incorriable!"
Uncomprehension shone starkly on their weather beaten faces.
"I mean incorrogable!" I let out a strangled snarl. "Oh whatever that blasted word is. He's just a piece of horse shit!"
Realisation dawned on their faces. Apparantly none of us were very good with big words anymore.
"And he's a man like you." Beard man added.
"N-yes!" I caught myself in time, remembering that I was dressed as a guy. I couldn't risk them discovering my gender secret. See, I'm stone cold sober!
"Well if ye don't like it then ye go tell him."
On any other occasion, I would have told Big Beard that he was off his rocker. Who in their right mind would want to ask that tight-lipped man about his wife much less demand that he don't marry her? But since I was feeling incredibly brave that night, I found his suggestion enlightening.
"Yes good idea!" I hopped up from my seat and almost face planted the table.
Raising a shaky index finger in the air, and swaying on the spot, I announced to my friends, "I'll go give that bastard a piece of my mind!"
"Yeah!" They cheered, bringing a loopy smile to my face. These men were truly a gift from heaven. Why hadn't I met them sooner?
"Go show that manky boss of yours!" Round guy hooted and violently shook my hand as a form of congratulation. I shook his plump hand back animatedly, almost dislodging it.
"Bye fellows!" I slammed a few coins on the table as payment for the drinks and stumbled off.
"Seeya soon young lad!" Beard man called out and I returned a mock salute.
I was on top of the world while I bumbled out of the foul smelling bar.
"Bumble bumble." I giggled. "Bumble bee." It was such an adorable word.
The floor suddenly pitched me to the side and I wobbled. "Stop!" I commanded the gravel pavement and pointed accusingly at it. It halted, obviously intimidated and I continued my leisurely stroll.
A box shaped thingy on wheels being dragged by a large brown animal swerved around a corner and rumbled towards me. The reason for me leaving the pub immediately returned to me as I stared at the moving item.
"Hey you!" I roared at it.
What was its name? I tapped my chin in thought but couldn't remember.
Oh who gave a flying cow about what it was called? I'd just name it rumble bumble.
I nodded my head happily when I deemed it a smart enough name. It perfectly descibed the sounds it was making. The yellow piggy with red spots tailing me nodded too, supporting my idea.
"Halt in the mighty name of the piggies!" I held out my hand in a stop gesture at the moving object. The floor jerked and I lurched forward, falling before the contraption I couldn't name. It stopped before I could get run over and I grinned in self-satisfaction. Like the floor, it listened to me! This was a sign that I was capable of greater things, such as world domination.
"Where to chap?"
"Holy pig ears! You talk?" I stuck my face before the horse.
It snorted in a way that said, of course you silly human. It seemed to have developed pleasant feelings for me within such a short span of time. Must be due to my likeable personality.
"The horse didn't talk." An awkward cough came from above the great animal. "I did."
I craned my neck upwards to see a tiny man. "Golly! I didn't see you!"
He stared at me with annoyance. "Are you just going to stand there like an idiot? It's late as hell and I don't want to waste my time on some drunken chav."
Why did this puny wretch have to be so rude? "I'm coming." I snapped angrily, his tone putting me in a bad mood. Pity, I was rather happy before.
"Where to?"
I tumbled and landed in a heap in the chaise.
Yes chaise! That was what it was called. You smart girl, I self applauded.
Grunting with effort to pick myself up, I answered. "Do you know where that rich bugger Rikkard Ambrose lives?"
"Yes, but why in God's name would you want to go there?" The unspoken message in his voice was clear as day, or as the yellow piggy next to me: What would a slob like you have to do with one of the richest men, or richest man, in England?
That was quite offensive I had to admit.
I finally got myself up onto the seats and slumped down in exhaution. Rapping the roof with my outstretched leg, which was actually trickier than expected as I ended up falling back down onto the floor of the chaise, I yelled furiously, "Just go!"
***********
Soooooo... this short fanfic portion about the proposal to a certain woman *wink wink* will be quite long (so sorry). I just really missed drunk Lilly and thought of bringing her and some characters like the piggies back. *oink*
Love you all to the moon and back.
PLEASE VOMMENT
Your crazy fangirl/writer,
Beth