Mendez: Just Another Tuesday
Mendez: Just Another Tuesday
"Another." Mendez demanded, slamming his glass down onto the counter with nearly enough force to break it.
He had silently been slamming back shots all night. Just perched atop the uncomfortable barstool and keeping to himself. It was a dive bar on the edge of town, notorious for catering to the seedier citizens of Freedom Falls. It wasn't Mendez' first visit. He had already caused trouble for the owner once, and trouble was the name of the game tonight.
"Haven't you had enough?" asked the woman on the other side of the counter as she used a dirty rag to wipe an even dirtier glass.
"I'm a big guy." stated Mendez plainly.
"I can see that, honey." the bartender said, looking over the tight, long-sleeved grey shirt stretched over his muscular form, "But you've also got a big bill. How about you square that up first and then I'll see about getting you a refill."
Mendez shoved a hand down into his pocket and produced a credit chit. "Another!" he repeated as he held the chit between two fingers and flung it across the counter at the woman.
Even over the rowdy music, his booming voice caused a few heads to turn. The woman jumped at his demand and scurried to retrieve the chit from the floor.
"This guy givin' you problems, Molly?" a voice called out over Mendez' right shoulder.
"No, Ted... Don't worry 'bout it." she said with a practiced smile as she stood back up.
"Don't worry about it, Ted." Mendez repeated through gritted teeth, "In other words. Mind your own fucking business."
The patrons sitting on the right and left of Mendez immediately vacated their seats. Molly's eyes darted back and forth between Mendez and the man she identified as Ted.
"Sorry, what was that? You got some sort of problem, buddy?" asked Ted.
Mendez snorted loudly. What did 'Ted' know about problems? Had he ever seen a person reduced to nothing more than a husk of their former self, everything about them replaced with an icy blue glow as they clawed and ripped at those around them? Had he ever racked a shotgun so much that his arms nearly gave out just so he could put out enough rounds to keep a horde of those creatures at bay? Felt a skull give way and cave in? No, Ted didn't know about 'problems'. But he was about to.
"C'mon pal, I think it's time for you to go home." a new voice called out as a hand clasped on Mendez' left shoulder.
Mendez leapt off the barstool with a speed betraying his size and captured the man's wrist in his hand. In one fluid motion, Mendez twisted the man's wrist with one hand and threw a haymaker with his other, flooring the concerned patron in a single blow. Molly shrieked and ducked behind the bar, but her screams were drowned out by the breaking of glass as Mendez felt a dull throb on the back of his head. Dammit, Ted.
Ted's attack with the makeshift weapon only served to further anger Mendez. He turned around to face Ted and eyed the broken glass handle in his hand that, moments ago, was attached to a mug. The sound of Ted's nose snapping filled the air as Mendez slammed him, face-first, against the edge of the counter. His body went limp as blood pooled onto the floor.
A third man leapt out of a nearby booth. In hindsight, he may have just been trying to leave the bar, but Mendez was far too amped to take any chances. He was in fight-or-flight mode, and the 'fight' box was clearly ticked. He grabbed his barstool and whipped it at the man, striking him square in the jaw and sending him onto his back.
"Enough!" a deep voice roared from the other side of the bar. "Mr. Williams has shown you a great kindness by not simply putting a bullet in your head the moment you walked through that door. And what do you do? Spit in his face and show that you're just another dumb pyjack. He rarely gives second chances. He won't give a third. Leave."
The armored krogan leveling a shotgun at Mendez was a familiar sight. Mendez gave him a smug grin and a quick wink.
"Be seeing you around, Wrend." Mendez said, raising his hands to keep them visible to the krogan as he backed up towards the door.
"You sure as hell better hope not." the krogan roared in response.
Mendez rubbed at the fresh cut on his head as he exited the run down old bar and the pink neon glow of the bar's sign bathed his back in light. He wiped away the blood onto his pants and tucked his hands into his pocket. That was definitely gonna need a few stitches. Still, not a bad way to let off some steam.