THE IRISHMAN'S CLUB
Step it out Mary my fine daughter,
Step it out Mary if you can.
Step it out Mary my fine daughter,
Show your legs to the countryman.'
The club was playing this song. Few white people were dancing on the stage. The bartender, the same man who attended Victor yesterday was making a martini.
Sharun, wearing a black V-neck t-shirt and blue jeans walks into the club. His sits on the island stool, in front of the bartender.
'What would you like to have sir ?' asked the bartender politely by pressing his left hand over his stomach and leaning down a little, towards Sharun.
'I... I want The Irish Piss, ' said Sharun in a firm voice. He pushed a glass towards the bartender.
The bartender took the glass and replied 'We don't serve that here.'
Sharun put his hands around the bartender head and pulled him towards him.
'Last night, two men probably French, came here. One ordered vodka and the other ordered the Irish Piss and your ass served it, ' said Sharun and he loosened his hold.
The bartender went two steps behind.
'I want names. You give me their names and I let you live, ' said Sharun in a low voice. Sharun took a cigarette and started smoking near the sign which said 'No smoking'.
'Today, my officer lost his son. His body was found in a sewer so, i want names of the people who are behind it, ' said Sharun in a loud voice by pressing the cigarette on the table after taking two puffs.
The bartender looked at Sharun, who was lighting up another cigarette.
' I-I don't know there na-names. But, they were talking about ki-klling someone. ' stammered the bartender.
'Video. I need video footage if those me,' said Sharun, by pointing at the cctv camera near the counter.
'I'm sorry sir. It was not operating last night, we repaired it today. I have the bill.' said the bartender, by whiping his sweaty hands on his apron.
Sharun narrowed his eyes and said 'Then the names.'
The bartender was whining some lies but, Sharun wasn't listening to him. He was busy reciting the song which was playing in the club.
'Step it out na na, nana nna na
Step it Mary nana na...'
Sharun jumped up in anger and throwed a glass on the floor.
'You made a special drink for two French people who came to club for the first time and you don't even know their names.' laughed Sharun.
'I swear. I don't know anything about them.' the bartender cried.
The volume of the music was so loud that , no one heard the bartender crying, except the few people on the table.
'Give me names so, I can let you live.' said Sharun, by pulling the bartender by the collar, towards him.
'Arthur. His name is Arthur, ' said the bartender, whose whole body was on the table.
'Is he the master or the dog?' asked Sharun.
'Master. Master.' said the bartender whose his face turned pale.
'Okay,' said Sharun by smiling with tight lips.
Sharun pats on the head of the bartender and leaves the club. The men who were sitting on the table followed him.
Step it out Mary if you can.
Step it out Mary my fine daughter,
Show your legs to the countryman.'
The club was playing this song. Few white people were dancing on the stage. The bartender, the same man who attended Victor yesterday was making a martini.
Sharun, wearing a black V-neck t-shirt and blue jeans walks into the club. His sits on the island stool, in front of the bartender.
'What would you like to have sir ?' asked the bartender politely by pressing his left hand over his stomach and leaning down a little, towards Sharun.
'I... I want The Irish Piss, ' said Sharun in a firm voice. He pushed a glass towards the bartender.
The bartender took the glass and replied 'We don't serve that here.'
Sharun put his hands around the bartender head and pulled him towards him.
'Last night, two men probably French, came here. One ordered vodka and the other ordered the Irish Piss and your ass served it, ' said Sharun and he loosened his hold.
The bartender went two steps behind.
'I want names. You give me their names and I let you live, ' said Sharun in a low voice. Sharun took a cigarette and started smoking near the sign which said 'No smoking'.
'Today, my officer lost his son. His body was found in a sewer so, i want names of the people who are behind it, ' said Sharun in a loud voice by pressing the cigarette on the table after taking two puffs.
The bartender looked at Sharun, who was lighting up another cigarette.
' I-I don't know there na-names. But, they were talking about ki-klling someone. ' stammered the bartender.
'Video. I need video footage if those me,' said Sharun, by pointing at the cctv camera near the counter.
'I'm sorry sir. It was not operating last night, we repaired it today. I have the bill.' said the bartender, by whiping his sweaty hands on his apron.
Sharun narrowed his eyes and said 'Then the names.'
The bartender was whining some lies but, Sharun wasn't listening to him. He was busy reciting the song which was playing in the club.
'Step it out na na, nana nna na
Step it Mary nana na...'
Sharun jumped up in anger and throwed a glass on the floor.
'You made a special drink for two French people who came to club for the first time and you don't even know their names.' laughed Sharun.
'I swear. I don't know anything about them.' the bartender cried.
The volume of the music was so loud that , no one heard the bartender crying, except the few people on the table.
'Give me names so, I can let you live.' said Sharun, by pulling the bartender by the collar, towards him.
'Arthur. His name is Arthur, ' said the bartender, whose whole body was on the table.
'Is he the master or the dog?' asked Sharun.
'Master. Master.' said the bartender whose his face turned pale.
'Okay,' said Sharun by smiling with tight lips.
Sharun pats on the head of the bartender and leaves the club. The men who were sitting on the table followed him.
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