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ajremixI saw the title on a picture in my boss's office for some division in, I believe, World War II. How could I NOT use it? And the summary is curtoesy of Dropkick Murphys. Because it fits.
Title: Magnificent Bastards
Fandom: Bleach
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 961
Characters: Hisagi, Iba, Ikkaku, Renji, Zaraki
Summary: Drink and drink and drink and drink and drink and drink and fight.
It wasn’t often that earth saw a ragtag group such as theirs grace their bars, but they paid for what they drank and that was all it cared about.
They ordered four shots of Jack for a table of five. The dark haired one with the shades and mustache stood from the table and the redhead held up what looked like a stopwatch.
“Right. Time starts when you interact. Go for it.” He told the first man.
He wandered among the crowd, trying to find a good spot before settling a few seats down from a pair of guys talking about the latest wrestling match on TV. He snorted and said just loud enough for them to head, “Fags.”
They turned to him and glared. “What?”
“You heard.” He indicated for a beer. The bartender didn’t even come near, just slid the drink down to him, knowing a fight when he saw one. “Bunch a’ half naked guys slippin’ on each other like that. ‘S fuckin’ gay.”
One of the two- who was obviously sloshed –got to his feet. “What the hell man? ‘S fuckin’ ignernt sayin’ shit like that!”
“ ‘S also true.” He shot back, beer halfway to his lips. “An’ yer just as gay watchin’ it. So go back to your little boyfriend, eh? Don’t wanna be catching all the gay flakin’ off ya.”
“You sunnovabi-“ He took a wild swing that the other man ducked under, tripping him into a passing waitress and sending her drinks flying all over the place.
He couldn’t help snickering at the cries that rang up and dragged off his seat by the second drunk guy. “I’m gonna kick yer-“ He smashed his beer glass against the aggressor’s head. He took a swing at the first guy, going purposefully wide and ramming into someone else instead.
At this point the redhead stopped the timer. “Huh.” He looked subtly impressed. “36 seconds.”
The bald man scowled. “Damn. Beat me out by five seconds.” He held his shot up. “Down ‘em.”
They tossed their drinks back and plopped the empty glasses on the table. Then they headed out the door before the fight got close to them. It didn’t take more than ten minutes before most of the commotion died down and their remaining member staggered out, sporting what would eventually turn out to be a rather impressive bruise on his cheek as well as a small gash along his jaw.
“So?” He asked, wiping the blood off his knuckles with a swiped bar towel.
“36 seconds. You’re in the lead so far.”
“Sweet. Next stop?”
~*~*~*~
“Go for it.” The other four held up their glasses, this time they were doing shots of Jagermeister.
He gave the group a slurred sort of grin and wandered off. He already picked his target the moment they entered the bar, but he detoured a little, tried to make it look like he didn’t already have it planned.
He sat at the bar next to a decent looking woman- would’ve been prettier if she didn’t try so hard. He leaned into her peripheral and smiled in a drunken-charmed way. “Hey.”
She glanced back and smirked, not intimidated by the three scars that crossed his face. “Nice tattoo.”
“You like? I don’t mind sharing it.”
She snorted this time. “You gotta be kidding me.”
“Naw, naw.” He slid from the stool and stood at her shoulder, barely pressed against her. “See, I couldn’t help but notice a fine woman like yourself.”
“Ugh. Get away from me.”
“C’mon, babe. I know you’ll like it.” And he grabbed her ass. She really wasn’t that much of a looker and he wouldn’t have gone for her any other night. But she had the biggest, angriest looking boyfriend in the whole bar.
So when she shrieked and slapped him across the face, it was only natural her big and angry boyfriend jerked him by the back of the shirt and yelled in his ear, “What the fuck is your problem, punk?”
He elbowed the boyfriend in the face and threw his ass into another table where the occupants took insult. Shouts and screams went up everywhere and fists started flying. Five minutes later, he snuck out of the confusion to find the other four waiting for him outside. They still had shots in their hands.
“58 seconds.”
“Fuck.” With a scowl, he took the four shots that were handed to him and downed them two at a time. He shook his head, trying to get the taste out of his mouth and wound up getting dizzy. He leaned against the wall of the bar.
“You gonna make it?” They asked with mild concern.
“Peachy.” He said, straightening himself up and running a hand through his even more unruly hair. “Let’s go.”
~*~*~*~
The only thing anyone said when they went into the last bar for the night was by the tallest one. He gave them a crooked, condescending smirk. “Amateurs,” he told them, “I’ll show ya how a pro does it.”
They ordered four shots of Gray Goose and sat back, prepared for a show.
The big one went up to a large group of what had to be college students, all laughing loudly about some dumb shit. He stood behind two of them, laughing just as loudly until they all stopped and took notice of him. He just grinned darkly at them before he slammed the two’s heads into the table. Everything erupted from there.
“…..” The four were dumbfounded. “Three seconds.” Came the verdict.
“And that, gentlemen,” the tattooed man said, “is why he is the king.” They held their glasses up in a silent cheer and downed it. Then went outside to keep an eye out for the cops.
Title: Magnificent Bastards
Fandom: Bleach
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 961
Characters: Hisagi, Iba, Ikkaku, Renji, Zaraki
Summary: Drink and drink and drink and drink and drink and drink and fight.
It wasn’t often that earth saw a ragtag group such as theirs grace their bars, but they paid for what they drank and that was all it cared about.
They ordered four shots of Jack for a table of five. The dark haired one with the shades and mustache stood from the table and the redhead held up what looked like a stopwatch.
“Right. Time starts when you interact. Go for it.” He told the first man.
He wandered among the crowd, trying to find a good spot before settling a few seats down from a pair of guys talking about the latest wrestling match on TV. He snorted and said just loud enough for them to head, “Fags.”
They turned to him and glared. “What?”
“You heard.” He indicated for a beer. The bartender didn’t even come near, just slid the drink down to him, knowing a fight when he saw one. “Bunch a’ half naked guys slippin’ on each other like that. ‘S fuckin’ gay.”
One of the two- who was obviously sloshed –got to his feet. “What the hell man? ‘S fuckin’ ignernt sayin’ shit like that!”
“ ‘S also true.” He shot back, beer halfway to his lips. “An’ yer just as gay watchin’ it. So go back to your little boyfriend, eh? Don’t wanna be catching all the gay flakin’ off ya.”
“You sunnovabi-“ He took a wild swing that the other man ducked under, tripping him into a passing waitress and sending her drinks flying all over the place.
He couldn’t help snickering at the cries that rang up and dragged off his seat by the second drunk guy. “I’m gonna kick yer-“ He smashed his beer glass against the aggressor’s head. He took a swing at the first guy, going purposefully wide and ramming into someone else instead.
At this point the redhead stopped the timer. “Huh.” He looked subtly impressed. “36 seconds.”
The bald man scowled. “Damn. Beat me out by five seconds.” He held his shot up. “Down ‘em.”
They tossed their drinks back and plopped the empty glasses on the table. Then they headed out the door before the fight got close to them. It didn’t take more than ten minutes before most of the commotion died down and their remaining member staggered out, sporting what would eventually turn out to be a rather impressive bruise on his cheek as well as a small gash along his jaw.
“So?” He asked, wiping the blood off his knuckles with a swiped bar towel.
“36 seconds. You’re in the lead so far.”
“Sweet. Next stop?”
~*~*~*~
“Go for it.” The other four held up their glasses, this time they were doing shots of Jagermeister.
He gave the group a slurred sort of grin and wandered off. He already picked his target the moment they entered the bar, but he detoured a little, tried to make it look like he didn’t already have it planned.
He sat at the bar next to a decent looking woman- would’ve been prettier if she didn’t try so hard. He leaned into her peripheral and smiled in a drunken-charmed way. “Hey.”
She glanced back and smirked, not intimidated by the three scars that crossed his face. “Nice tattoo.”
“You like? I don’t mind sharing it.”
She snorted this time. “You gotta be kidding me.”
“Naw, naw.” He slid from the stool and stood at her shoulder, barely pressed against her. “See, I couldn’t help but notice a fine woman like yourself.”
“Ugh. Get away from me.”
“C’mon, babe. I know you’ll like it.” And he grabbed her ass. She really wasn’t that much of a looker and he wouldn’t have gone for her any other night. But she had the biggest, angriest looking boyfriend in the whole bar.
So when she shrieked and slapped him across the face, it was only natural her big and angry boyfriend jerked him by the back of the shirt and yelled in his ear, “What the fuck is your problem, punk?”
He elbowed the boyfriend in the face and threw his ass into another table where the occupants took insult. Shouts and screams went up everywhere and fists started flying. Five minutes later, he snuck out of the confusion to find the other four waiting for him outside. They still had shots in their hands.
“58 seconds.”
“Fuck.” With a scowl, he took the four shots that were handed to him and downed them two at a time. He shook his head, trying to get the taste out of his mouth and wound up getting dizzy. He leaned against the wall of the bar.
“You gonna make it?” They asked with mild concern.
“Peachy.” He said, straightening himself up and running a hand through his even more unruly hair. “Let’s go.”
~*~*~*~
The only thing anyone said when they went into the last bar for the night was by the tallest one. He gave them a crooked, condescending smirk. “Amateurs,” he told them, “I’ll show ya how a pro does it.”
They ordered four shots of Gray Goose and sat back, prepared for a show.
The big one went up to a large group of what had to be college students, all laughing loudly about some dumb shit. He stood behind two of them, laughing just as loudly until they all stopped and took notice of him. He just grinned darkly at them before he slammed the two’s heads into the table. Everything erupted from there.
“…..” The four were dumbfounded. “Three seconds.” Came the verdict.
“And that, gentlemen,” the tattooed man said, “is why he is the king.” They held their glasses up in a silent cheer and downed it. Then went outside to keep an eye out for the cops.
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Date: 2005-12-27 11:55 pm (UTC)