>>10190259>>10188648>[As Raquel Durango leaves, Sheila emerges from the ladies room. It's been a long day of drinking, after all. She has to be at least six pints deep at this point. She calls that 'starters'.]"Oi, barmate, I need ya advice. Ya ever really fucked up and ya don't know how ta get ya arse out of it? Nah fuck, like seriously said something stupid to someone you really thought was cool? Fuck me, wadda ya meant to do about it?"
>The barman replies that it's only natural to make mistakes. Sometimes friends fight."Foight. Fucken hell, mate. That's the problem. Now some Irish cunts wants me to have a fucken punch on with me new Spanish mate -- or, fuck, Mexican. I was thinking about the language. What's the word? 'Idioma'? Fuck me I'm a fucken 'idioma', mate. A big fucken 'idioma'. Me big mouth gets me inta trouble, and now you're telling me to fucken push me new amiga off a fucken ladder to her death. Some fucken barman you are. I should call fucken Police Gal on ya whole fucken establishment."
"I dunno mate. I dun really wanna hurt me new friend. All me pairs end up fucked. Me first partnah fucken went off inta space or summin? Jesus fuck I don't even know what happened to her. Oh, Beera."
>The barman hears Sheila and hands her another pint -- not what she wanted, but she's never said no yet. She thinks to herself.Ah fuck, Raquel. I didn't want to fucken ladder match, but I don't know what else to do. First fucken Violet and now Cassie; why do these cunts get to make their own matches? Ain't there some fucken guy in charge? Doug, or something?
