George Strait's voice made its way across the dark, smoke-filled room.
Yellow drained his beer bottle, wondering why he was in a dive bar. He glanced in Nino's direction.
"You're behind."
Nino shrugged and adjusted his glasses. "You say that like I can't drink you under the table. You bout to quit on number 3. I could do 8 straight before I feel a buzz."
Yellow nodded. Nino easily outweighed him by 100 lbs and he was more of an experienced drinker. The running joke was that Nino's blood type was 100 proof.
"I think I'm bout ready to get up out of here," Yellow said, standing up. He walked over to the bartender and set his empty bottle down atop the bar.
"Another one, hun?" The bartender brushed her brunette hair off her shoulder and smiled softly, just enough to be flirtatious. "Nah, I'm good Bonnie. I think JJ should be done soon anyway." Yellow turned and looked in the far corner where a game of pool was winding down.
"Okay hun. I'ma go to the ladies' room and I'll be back to start closing down." She hiked her jeans up and walked off. Yellow didn't notice he was staring until a voice caught his attention. "Undefeated yet again." Turning around, he noticed JJ beaming with pride.
"So you bad, huh?" Sarcasm slightly seasoned Yellow's tone. "Badder than Mike Jackson in a black jacket," JJ chuckled. "I'm in my element here. Nobody can mess with me."
"Yeah you right, cuz I don't do dive bars, I don't do cigarette smoke, I don't shoot pool, and I don't do country music. If the bartender wasn't cute I'da been left." Yellow sounded annoyed, but his facial expression softened his words.
"You done with that beer yet Nino?"
Yellow looked over to see his friend shrugging again, casually sipping his beer.
A man stumbled toward JJ.
"I'm Jeff," he said, slurring a little in a stereotypical Texan accent. "What's yer name?"
He extended his right hand.
"John," he said as he accepted the handshake. "Everybody calls me JJ."
"Yer pretty mean on the pool table, specially for a younger guy. Where'd you learn to play?" The more he spoke, the more obvious it became that Jeff wasn't in his right mind.
"My daddy taught me." JJ discreetly took a step backwards to give himself some breathing room.
"Uh huh, I bet." Jeff closed the distance between them almost immediately. His demeanor gradually grew more hostile. He gave JJ a firm tap on the chest with his index finger. "This ain't the place for yer kind, hotshot."
"Whatchu mean 'my kind'?" JJ took another step back. He noticed Yellow inching up behind Jeff.
Jeff reached forward and pushed him with his right hand, but JJ managed to maintain his balance because of his defensive stance.
"Hey man, I came to shoot pool. I ain't here for no trouble." JJ put his hands up to show he was no threat. Yellow clenched his fists, waiting.
"I don't care WHY you came, I said you don't need to BE here." Jeff put his weight into another shove, forcing JJ back a few feet.
Nino looked at his bottle, shrugged, and finished it off. He reflected for a moment and shrugged again. Before Yellow could decide on an action, Nino swung the empty bottle at Jeff and smashed it on the back of his head.
Jeff lost his balance for only a second, then he caught himself. He dismissed the feeling by shaking his head. He turned to face Nino, who was already in a bladed stance.
Jeff quickly pulled something from his waistline, but Yellow grabbed a nearby pool cue and swung it across his back, snapping it in two.
Jeff paused, like a program buffering. He blinked a few times, then advanced toward Nino with more conviction than before, switchblade drawn.
Yellow picked up a wooden stool and laid into Jeff with every ounce of strength he had. It landed between Jeff's shoulder blades and fell apart, bringing him to his knees.
"You got the right ones," JJ said, planting his left foot on top of the knife that had slid toward him.
Jeff slowly rose to his feet with an air of defiance, sticking his chest out when he had erected himself fully. He shook his head again, composing himself, then turned and walked out the front door.
Nino, Yellow, and JJ all stared at the door in disbelief.
"Yellow!" Bonnie frantically rushed in from the back. "What in God's name just happened?!" Looking at her, the three men pointed to the door in unison.
"I don't- I- uh, I'm not really sure. The dude tried to start something with JJ. Me and Nino just jumped in. You can ask somebody or check the cameras though."
Bonnie rolled her eyes while letting out a heavy sigh. "I need a cigarette."
"Look we're sorry," Nino raised his hands apologetically. "We really didn't mean to cause any trouble. We can pay for the stuff that got damaged."
Bonnie sighed again, palming her face. "Y'all just go. Yellow I'll call you tomorrow and we can figure the rest out. Be careful."
"Bet." JJ grinned mischievously. Nino reprimanded him with a light punch to the shoulder.
"Y'all don't think they gon call the cops, huh?" Yellow asked as they walked out.
"Nah," Nino nonchalantly responded. "Ya girl wouldn'ta been so calm. And she wouldn'ta let us leave."
"You right," Yellow answered. "Y'all don't think WE should call the cops, huh?"
"Bro you know where we at?!" JJ was incredulous. "This the wrong territory to be tryna call the laws."
"Yeah we just need to dip." Yellow placed his hands in his pockets and shrugged.
Crossing the nearly empty parking lot, the three approached a black Chevy Impala sitting under a flickering streetlight.
A clicking noise caught Yellow's attention. In the shadows next to the Impala sat another car, barely visible, with the trunk open. A silhouetted figure emerged from behind it.
Stumbling into the light, Jeff waved a pistol. "You got the WRONG one!"
They scattered in three different directions as a series of erratic pops disrupted the peaceful summer night.
