The Park was not at all what Boris had expected. After searching through four different city parks for the man with the red and blue scarf he was exhausted and ticked. He walked to the nearest pub and took a seat at the bar. Someone tossed a menu in front of him and asked in a deep gutteral growl, “whatreyahavin?”
Boris answered gruffly, “whiskey, on the rocks.” A moment later a glass sat in front of him, which contained an amber liquid. Boris raised the glass to his lips and let the cool whiskey spill over his taste buds and suddenly spewed the booze all over the counter desperately trying to eradicate the taste from his presence. “What the hell is this? I asked for whiskey, not sour piss water!” A smooth, soft voice replied in a southern drawl, “Sorry sugah, we only got bourbon.”
Boris grumbled “frigggin south”
“Hey! Watch what you ta tha lady.”
Boris turned his head and slowly lifted his gaze past the black suit up to the red and blue scarf around the neck.