It's that time again - today we're going to do some continuations. If this is your first time seeing this prompt, feel free to click on the tag at the bottom to see how previous attempts went. But the basic idea is carry on from where I left off, or where someone in the comments left off. And to have fun, obviously.
It's also that other time again - the Vancouver Canucks play their first game of this year's NHL playoffs tonight. I'll be hoping for a less disappointing result than last year's.
I’m sitting at a table in the darkest corner of this crowded pub, nursing a beer and a headache. The drink is as stale as the cigarette carcasses humping each other in the ashtray at my right elbow and the pounding in my head is synched up with the music blaring out of the speaker clinging to the wall behind me. I would have left two hours and fifteen minutes ago – exactly two hours, fifteen minutes and eight seconds after I walked through the door – but I’m waiting for someone.
And that someone has the kind of money that makes my current situation worth suffering through.
Two college kids, football players by the looks of them, are sitting at the table to my right debating the finer points of streaking and keg parties. I’ve already decided how they’re going to die, it’s just a matter of when. I’m in a foul enough mood that I won’t require the gun residing in the inside pocket of my brown leather jacket.
I pick up the pack of smokes that I had placed next to my drink and tap out another cancer stick. I jam it into the corner of my mouth and begin my usual search for my lighter - I swear the damned thing moves whenever I’m not looking.
But before I can find it a flame appears mere inches from my face. I take a moment to study the silver lighter with the initials IC engraved on its side and the finely manicured fingers holding it, before leaning forward to bring the tip of my cigarette to its fire. Once its lit I lean back, blow a stream of funereal smoke from my nostrils, and take in my newest client.
“Well,” I say with a slight tilt of my head, “it’s about damned time.”