John the Barman (short story) part 11

This is a re-post of a short story I first began posting in September 2016, when I first joined steemit.
The story was first published in 2013 as an e-book and is based heavily, in location on my old local pub and my good friend who worked behind the bar.

“I think she seems nice,” Death said with a smile, looking down the bar to see Melanie walking back towards them.
“You think everyone is nice,” War replied gruffly. “And I didn’t say she wasn’t nice, just that she was a human.”
Melanie reached the end of the bar where they were standing and sat down on John’s barstool.
“Hi, I’m Melanie, don’t think I’ve seen you two in here before,” she said, smiling at the two brothers.
“We don’t usually come in here on a night,” Death answered, returning her smile.
“We have other commitments,” War said. “But as we got back from our business trip early, we called in for a drink on our way home.”
“Yes, we usually spend our nights playing Warhammer with our other two brothers,” Death added. “We’re starting the Dark Vengeance game next, so we’re all looking forward to that.”
“Erm, that sounds fascinating. What’s that?” Melanie said almost convincingly, but War and Death missed the subtlety of someone being polite.
“Oh it is, we weren’t sure about it at first, were we Death?” War added, brightening up. “We thought it would be a bit geeky, I mean the four horsemen playing a war game,” Death said, warming to the topic of conversation.
“We’ve all got right into it though, and now we go to all the conventions. I’ve been one of the top five players in the world for over ten years now,” War said with pride.
“Wow, that’s really amazing,” Melanie said, and grabbed her glass to take a drink. Taking her chance with the pause in conversation caused by her taking her drink, she decided to change the subject.
“I overheard that strange little man down at the other end of the bar talking when I was loading the pot-washer. Do you know how many people get killed each year by falling coconuts?”
The bar suddenly fell silent; every customer felt an instant build-up of energy and turned to look at its source. War was surrounded by an aura of pure rage as he looked at the barmaid Melanie. If anyone had been standing outside the bar looking up into the night sky, they would have seen a large swirling vortex of clouds and bolts of lightning doing a great impression of a strobe light appear for a couple of seconds as War fought to control himself.
“I believe it’s somewhere near one hundred and fifty, but this year the numbers may be up a little. Now if you would excuse me, I need the bathroom,” War answered through gritted teeth. Giving a forced smile, he walked down towards the toilets, a pathway cleared to let him through. As he entered the toilets, the occupants of the room gave out a collective sigh of relief and after a second, conversation returned.
“Is your brother alright?” Melanie asked nervously.
“It’s probably just a little indigestion, foreign food always upsets him.” Death lied and drained his glass nervously, hoping Melanie would let the matter drop.

“Last orders at the bar.” John shouted.
Over half the customers had left anyway and the remaining ones were drunk or well on their way. The Valkyries had left to go looking for a club. The four Mayan gods had joined them, while others had just drifted off, knowing a day of work loomed a few hours away. Melanie sat talking to Death as she had done for most of the night. War had sat playing gooseberry for a little while before deciding to get drunk. With War, it didn’t take too much, as he didn’t tend to drink. Five pints was his usual limit, but tonight he had managed eight. Staggering up to a bar and sitting on a stool on the second attempt, he waited to be served.
War slouched drunkenly at the bar and tried his best to make both his eyes focus on John. “Ya know what? I’ve never understood that saying ‘Faster than a speeding bullet’.”
“Why’s that War?” John asked as he refilled his glass.
“Well, it’s like this,” War replied finally getting his eyes under control. “Have you ever seen a bullet that sauntered along taking in the scenery and pausing to talk to random people on its way to its target?” War sat up straight and again lost control of his eyes, but his point had been made. Then his sense of balance also left him and he fell backwards off of the barstool.

To be continued.

Previous posts.

https://steemit.com/fiction/@alienbutt/john-the-barman-short-story-part-1

https://steemit.com/fiction/@alienbutt/john-the-barman-short-story-part-2

https://steemit.com/writing/@alienbutt/john-the-barman-short-story-part-3

https://steemit.com/fiction/@alienbutt/john-the-barman-short-story-part-4

https://steemit.com/story/@alienbutt/john-the-barman-short-story-part-5

https://steemit.com/fiction/@alienbutt/john-the-barman-short-story-part-6

https://steemit.com/story/@alienbutt/john-the-barman-short-story-part-7

https://steemit.com/story/@alienbutt/john-the-barman-short-story-part-8

https://steemit.com/story/@alienbutt/john-the-barman-short-story-part-9

https://steemit.com/story/@alienbutt/john-the-barman-short-story-part-10