McArthur's Bar (standard:drama, 891 words)
Author: Davef1965	Added: Mar 24 2003	Views/Reads: 3745/2305	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A moment in a Scottish bar

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

what it would be like living in his skin at this moment. He doesn't 
want to serve the young lad but years in the trade have taught him when 
to keep his mouth shut. He grudgingly pours the pints and puts them on 
the bar. 

“Cheers “ the young man lifts his glass and drains half of it in one
mouthful. 

“Here son have a smoke” the man in the suit offers the open packet of
cigarettes. “Hang on I'll get ye an ashtray” he leans over to the bar 
and picks up a heavy glass ashtray with Tennants Lager emblazoned on 
it's base. The young man has just lifted the cigarette to his lips when 
a suited arm swings the heavy ashtray with full force. It hits him 
square in the face. His nose explodes, spraying a shower of blood over 
the bar. His high-pitched scream makes Moira jump. The young man's legs 
fold and he keels over backwards onto the floor. 

The barman is stunned, standing mouth open, unable to comprehend what he
has just witnessed. The man in the suit tucks his cigarettes back into 
his jacket pocket and takes a sip from his pint. 

“Better phone his mammy and tell her he'll be late fur his tea” he
casually steps over the results of his handiwork and heads for the 
door. 

Moira's eyes follow him as he leaves. “Dae ye think he'll be needin that
pint then?” she says reaching over the bar for the untouched pint of 
lager. 


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