A Fist Full of Tigers

A Fist Full of Tigers, unabridged, as the author wrote it, but not necessarily as he intended it.

Chapter One: In the Tigers Mouth 

The autumn's midday sun is blocked by dark clouds. The air is given little warmth and the cool rain chills the heart at the promise of a much colder night ahead.

        The Three Bowls Inn is not crowded, but more than usual have stopped by in an attempt to avoid the rain. Still, some feel perhaps some other reason draws them in that they can't quite explain. The regulars watch as the new comers, many more a brave soul than in years past, as they attempt the Three Bowls Inn's long standing challenge.

        Finish three bowls of the inn's strongest wine, walk to the ridge and back for a free night's stay. To ensure that you made it to the ridge you must take one of the key rings hanging from a centuries old sign high on the ridge. The signs paint has faded and the metal rings have rusted. No one has made it back in over a century.

        Ask the bar tender, he is the great grandson of the great Hung Wang Long on his mother's side, and he will tell you in his fifty years no one has made it past the front door, and only the strongest of men make it out of their seat.

         "Some, much less faint of heart than you youngsters, never leave..." the bar tender Fo So La gestures beyond the dining area where a couple of men lay unconscious flat on their face, and out the rear window and to a small grave yard with a few freshly dug graves. "Brave unknown traveler died approximately twenty five years old." This is etched into one of the more prominent head stones of one of the fresh dug graves and is dated in chalk, "Monday of last week." 

        The three young farm boys bolt out of the three bowls grabbing their fags on the way out into the soaking rain. On their way out the door they bump into a large monk and fall to the ground. Lightning strikes illuminating the monk's face ominously. He is dripping wet and his angry face and overall demeanor gives the youngsters yet another good reason for leaving the Three Bowls Inn. They scramble out the entry way as fast as they can and they vow in their hearts never to return. "See you next week. Argh!" The bar tender yells, and waves his bar towel as if shooing away pests from which he is sure he will never truly be free. Wu Song stares at the young men scrambling away from him then to the bar tender. The bar tender nods his head as if to say, "Come on in." Wu Song enters the bar and after entering he leans his staff which is adorned with ornate gold rings, against the wall and heads directly to the bar tender. The bar tender angles so that the monk can see the sign outlining the rules of the bet. The monk laughs once then is silent for a long uncomfortable moment. This to the monk seems like the thing to do. "An uncomfortable silence of an appropriate length is the way a monk should act, isn't it? But, how long is too long?" Wu Song wonders as the silence lingers a bit longer and sweat starts to form on his brow. Finally Fo So La opens his mouth to speak, he too is beaming with sweat, but Wu Song quickly cuts him off. "The offer you make is tempting, but I am in a hurry. When this rain stops I would like to be on my way. So here is a counter offer for you. If I can drink six bowls and walk out that door I don't have to pay for the drinks. If I drink twelve bowls I don't have to pay for my meal either. Mind you I may drink more than twelve, if so I don't have to pay for those either. Additionally should I happen this way again I would like to take you up on that free night stay!" Wu Song smiles happily as he watches the wheels in Fo's head start to turn. 

Fo tries to look worried, but he can barely contain his smile. "Another sucker." Hthinks as he begins washing out a bowl with his towel, and pretending to mull over the offer. Fo had always enjoyed the bet ever since he was a child, he even tried it himself once, it was not pretty. He tries to hide his true feelings about the sucker, "I mean patron", but his love of watching people pass out still manages to shine through. "Well I suppose." Fo So La agrees with sigh. "However, how can I be sure you will pay? I don't dare to try and dissuade you, but what if you lose? I don't doubt that in other tavern's you could drink so well, but here we serve only the finest wine." The patrons all cheer in agreement with Fo's last statement.