Hardman's Bar

By Hadrian Howell (Hardman)

Chapter 4

"I'll try."

"Hey," Gemini said, thinking of something, "what about that arsonist? Aren't we supposed to, you know, track him down?"

"When you need a four ton death machine to track down a petty arsonist, you better have a damn big arsonist."

"I suppose," Gemini said.

"Seriously, if you guys need me, you know where to find me," I told them with a shrug and made my way out the door.

On the way to work, I always like to walk. There's something calming about getting somewhere step by step. That, and the bus drivers around here refuse to let me on because I usually exceed the weight limit on my own.

On my way to work, I ran into Topman, out for his morning roll. I swear, this guy never sits still. If he isn't moving, he's singing. Most of the time he's doing both.

"They'll let ANYONE out on the streets today," he smirked at me as he rolled by.

"Veeeery funny, comin' from a kid who can't see th' walls o' his own house."

"MUST you murder the language, Hardman?" he asked, doubling back and skating around me like a small yellow moon orbiting a big blue planet.

"I like talkin' the way I talk," I told him.

"Yes, but you must remember you're a business owner! In a critical business situation, you have to think and speak clearly. Since you can't think straight, you might as well speak straight."

"Oh, will ya lay offa me, kid? I had a late night."

"More like an early morning," Top laughed, calmly circling me with momentum alone as I plodded along. "I have an idea, let's try a language exercise."

"No."

"Oh, come on, it'll be fun! I'll bug you until you do anyway."

Faced with the horror of being annoyed the entire half hour walk to work, I caved in rather quickly. "FINE! Fine, what's th' exercise?"

He cleared his throat. "Repeat after me."

"Oh, god," I moaned, my eyes rolling involuntarily.

"'Round the rough and rugged rocks the ragged rascal rudely ran."

"Uh… Around th' rough an' rugged-"

'Round THE Rough AND Rugged Rocks THE Ragged Rascal Rudely Ran."

I sighed. "Around the rough and the rugged… gah, I can't do this."

He patted me on the back reassuringly. "Never you mind, then. We'll try something different. Let me think for a moment."

His moment stretched out for a while, and I meandered past another block in blessed silence before he began to speak again. "Ah, try this. Ahem… Roscoe the rum runner rubbed out Rico the rat with his revolver for ruining his rum running receipts. Can you say that?"

"Argh… Roscoe the rum runner rubbed out Rico the rat with his revolver for ruining his rum running receipts."

Topman fell over, but got back up and caught up to me again quickly. "Wow, well done!"

"Well, yeah, you finally came up with somethin' that made sense."

"Indeed," Topman sighed. "Well, I'm going to get back to base and help the others out with this arson thing."

"You got a lead on it?" I asked.

"True enough. I've just been to the site of the building that was burned down myself."

"Oh?"

"Yes, it's around the next corner."

"Better check it out then," I said, swinging around the corner. There, in a pile of debris and smoke was the latest victim of the arsonist that was apparently plaguing the town. "Wow…"

"Burned everything, from the looks of it. Even the sign got burned down."

I gave the wreckage a critical look. Whoever had set this up had done it from the inside. The place looked like it used to be some kind of restaurant. I could tell where the kitchen used to be. The fire probably started there, and spread when the gas tanks that were used to keep the stoves going went up. Taking a tentative step into the rubble, charred wood and stone gave away easily under my weight. Like stepping in charred snow. "This is pretty bad. I guess this is what the Diner looked like in the aftermath too, huh?"

"Pretty much," Top said.

I prowled around the wreckage a little, tracing what I believed to be the path of the fire. "Yeah, there was definitely an explosion when the gas tanks blew… and it looks like there was another right about here," I said, mostly to myself, stepping behind a sturdier piece of debris, and stepping down onto broken glass. "Must have been some kind of bar."

Ever have one of those days where you see something like this happen to someone else? You think it's really funny don't you?

Bite me.

"Aw, SON OF A *****MONGERING SEWER****!"

"What's wrong?" Topman asked.

"This was MY bar!"