[Sticky Pete’s.]
[The small tavern is filled with the usual familiar faces.]
[That is, except for one.]
[A tall man has just walked through the door. He’s dressed a bit differently from the rest of the crowd, sporting a suit.]
[He didn’t seem like much of a businessman.]
[He struts to the bar, where he has a seat at the end.]
Bartender: You don’t look to be from around here.
Stranger: I’m not, I’m here on business.
[The bartender gives a faint smile before walking closer to the stranger. She leans across the bar from him.]
Bartender: Well, what can I get you?
Stranger: I’ll have a shot of Jack, please.
[The bartender gives a nod as she searches the bar for the bottle. As she turns back around, the man questions..]
Stranger: Perhaps you can help me? I’m looking for a man named Wayne D. Mercer.
[The motion inside the bar seems to stop at the mention of the name. But a slight nod of the bartender’s head and a return to her smile, everything returns to normal.]
Bartender: Wayne D Mercer, huh? The country boy known for his attitude? The guy who single handedly mowed down a construction crew just because they were cat whistlin’ at his little sister?
Stranger: Sounds about rig-..
[The man is interrupted by a chubby gentleman who sat close by at the bar.]
Chubs: I know of Wayne. Seen him once shove someone’s own thumb right up their ass.
Stranger: That’s m-..
[Once again the man was interuppted. This time by a younger couple. The boyfriend speaks up.]
Boyfriend: You guys must be talking about Wayne D. Mercer? I remember when he caught that guy trying to run out of here with Cindy-Lou’s tip jar. Knocked him clean out right there at the door.
[The boyfriend points towards the door, causing the man to look over and arch his eyebrows.]
[The bartender pipes up sweetly as she places the shot of liquor in front of the stranger.]
Bartender: I’ve heard of the guy once or twice, but the question now comes to mind. What would a stranger like you want with Wayne D. Mercer?
Stranger: As I said, I’m here on business.
[No sooner than those words came out, a long arm wraps around the stranger’s back.]
[Slap!]
[A firm hand comes down on the stranger’s shoulder.]
[Sure enough, Wayne D. Mercer slides in next to the stranger at the bar. He takes the stranger’s shot and throws it back himself, slamming the shot glass back on the bartop.]
[Wayne gives a toothy smile to the stranger.]
Wayne D. Mercer: How are ya now?
[WHAM!]
[Without hesitation, Wayne headbutts the stranger right in the nose! Blood goes flying as the stranger staggers back. Wayne unbuttons and begins to roll up his sleeves.]
Wayne D. Mercer: My, my! Yer a big ol’ boy, aintcha?
[Wayne grabs the guy by the shirt, as he starts dragging the stranger towards the front door.]
Wayne D. Mercer: How ’bout we see jus how big’a boy are ya?
[The stranger is pushed out the door, Wayne following close behind.]
[Fade.]