I smack Ms./Mr. Bartender's ass before heading to the front door of their apartment. That was a very good night. Though, now that I think about it... What the hell was I doing? I'm straight but I just had sex with a guy who was also a girl... Maybe I should start thinking about what I'm doing before I do it. Or maybe it's all out of my control and some weird kid with a dirty mind decided to come to his computer and fuck with his friend. I don't know, and honestly, I don't care. I just need to get the fuck out of here before the albino decides to go for another intense sex session... I can still feel the dildo inside of me... I shudder with disgust from the memory. One more of those and I'll end up shooting myself. Maybe I should shoot myself... Wait, I forgot, that didn't work in the first chapter, so chances are it won't work this chapter either. Damn it all...
Well, I suppose this means I'll have to go to the bar and drink my troubles away. I heard there was that new place, St. Michael's Bar & Grill. Might have a look around there, might be a good place to have a drink for once in my life. Guess that means, off I go!
After a few tussles with some crazy drunk blokes in the street and a cab ride, I found the bar. It's, ironically, a shite place. With a name like St. Michael's, you'd think it'd be clean and well-established. Granted, if it was that kind of place, it's more than likely that I wouldn't be allowed inside of it in the first place. The counter is covered in dust, there are only two tables standing if you exclude booths (including booths it's five), the drinks smell like shit and the entire establishment is drowned in cobwebs.
I thought, "Well, it's nice to know that the only other bar in town is so well-kept compared to the other place," before taking a seat at the counter. Weirdly enough, the bartender was a very neat bugger, not a single spill or speck of dust on his uniform. Not to mention, he was tall, incredulously tall. I'd say about seven feet or so. He looked almost divine, with his large build compliment his towering stature as his golden locks of shoulder-length hair seemed to shine brilliantly amidst the darkness while his green eyes seemed to pierce into my 'soul', as if he's somehow learning everything about me just by looking at me. It's fucking creepy if you ask me. Of course, the first thing he does is 'bartender' me.
As he cleans a glass, he asks me, "Rough day?" As much as the cliché annoyed me, I figure I'll tell him anyway.
"I met a girl, we were going to have sex, she was a guy. I met another girl, we had sex, she was a girl and a guy. Now I'm sitting here, talking to you about my problems... You wouldn't happen to be a guy that's actually a girl, would you?" He shakes his head. "Just had to make sure, with my luck that's what would happen."
He shakes his head again with a mix of what I think was disappointment and a bit of jealousy. Of course, I don't get to ask him since a group of giant bugs burst through the door of the bar. I mean, of all bars, it had to be this one didn't it? I get up and walk to them, cracking the two lead ones' heads together. As I throw them aside, a large rhinoceros beetle-looking motherfucker nails me in the gut with its horn. It didn't hurt, but I can feel warmth dripping down my leg, so I probably got stabbed by it. I break its horn off, since the pain didn't really affect my performance, and then I pull it out and stab it in the face. Just to make sure it's dead, I twist the horn to break its neck, and then I remove the head from its body. While yawning, I say, "that was kind of a boring fight. Maybe one of you other assholes can try a little harder." At that same moment, I can feel warmth dripping down my back. I turn around to see a little bug-man thing with arm-swords dripping with my blood. The bug is, smiling at me? "Doesn't matter, I guess, I'll just crack its skull in- wait why do I feel like I'm about to pass out?" And then I passed out.
I think about the previous events for a while. Like that bartender, the transgender bartender, and that trap with the cat ears. It occurs to me that I really don't have the best luck when it comes to sexual things. Is God or Satan just out for me? Do I really deserve to give a proper dicking when I feel like giving someone a dicking? Maybe this is God's way of saying I need to calm down with the masturbation. But I'll show him, I'll masturbate five times tomorrow instead of four. Just you wait God, I'm going to disappoint you to the best of my ability.
