BANG, BANG, BANG.

This whole mess started by me going to my favorite bar, only to find out my friends were all missing. One stupid question and I’m fighting three wacko’s! Now I’m locked in a backroom with the fake barkeep, speaking of whom.

“Okay. I’ll be quick. Where are my friends?”

I’m leaning over him trying my best intimidation stance, can’t hurt my chances.

“Oh Moane!” It takes me a second to realize he just called me a moron, I smack him up side the head to keep him focused.

“Answer!”

“I don’t know where they are Marty.”

The use of my proper nickname gives me pause. I take a closer look at him.

The similarity to the real barkeep is unmistakable, this guy doesn’t have the handle-bar mustache. Otherwise, it could really be him.

And thankfully his speaking is clearing up. I hate having to translate from broken nose.

“Barkeep?”

“Yes!”

“What happened to you, to the bar, to our friends?”

BANG, BANG, BANG

“Marty, let me explain… later. For now, follow me. We’ll take the back exit.”