“Gah! When I said start your beatdowns, I didn’t mean beat ME!” said Masao in an annoyed tone as he flew through the air, propelled by the force of the shockwave, only to be punched and kicked multiple times by the indiscriminate destruction of the latest trainee to enter the fray. Parrying most of the blows with one hand while snatching a flying drink in midair with the other, he landed in a heap of broken tables with a thudding noise. Fortunately, the drink he managed to save had avoided spillage. With a sonic thump accompanied by the breaking of glass, Shindou’s jutsu now ejected the whirlwind trainee from the bar, prompting Masao to sigh and take a long sip of his drink.
Good job, fellow old man! he thought to himself.
“Alright, who’s got the dumpster prepared?!” he asked, intending for Souseiki to have a very smelly night. Oh yes, his ANBU would win the day by hoisting that damned James Cagney knockoff on their shoulders, toting him to the nearest garbage bin, and dumping him into it before rolling it down to the local jail. Suddenly however, he now sniffed a telltale combination of kerosene and sulfur. Turning his head, he now saw a maniacal-looking Squint tossing a now-empty can of fuel to the floor and taking out a match, which in typical Squint fashion he lit on the stubble of his chin.
"Last CALL!" roared Squint maniacally, dropping the match.
Crap. Third time now, thought the Vice Commander as the fire hit the pooling liquid on the floor, and the entire place exploded in flames like the second coming (literally) of Shinbatsu.
A few moments later
“Godrot it all,” Masao grumbled as he patted out small flames that had managed to respawn on his tattered and stained clothing. Soot marks covered his face and he smelt of burnt hair and vomit. The details of his escape from the sudden mushroom cloud of fire that had erupted from the place where Squint’s bar used to be were unimportant – suffice it to say, he was a shinobi, as was everyone else there. No one had died, probably. Souseiki was nowhere to be seen, as if he had needed to suddenly depart to study for the LSATs or something. Masao took out a bent cigarette that had somehow survived the whole night, and lit it on a smoldering ember still burning a hole in his sleeve. Time to trudge home.
The Next Day
Form Letter #378F: Apology for Drunken Behavior
To whom it might concern:
Yesterday, having drunk too much, I was intoxicated as to pass all bounds; but none of the rude and coarse language I used was uttered in a conscious state. The next morning, after hearing others speak on the subject, I realized what had happened, whereupon I was overwhelmed with confusion and ready to sink into the earth with shame.
Affix Signature Here: Takaki M.
[Thread left and ended, lol. Feel free to make leaving posts or not. The bar has been burnt down!]
