A tall man, an average-heighted man and a short man walk into a bar. The bar was bustling with activity, with people chattering and rowdiness making. Waitresses were rushing around from table to table taking orders and bartenders mixing and making drinks then passing them to the waitresses to be served. As they walked in, conversations in the room all died down.
With the planks of the floor creaking under their weight, the men proceed to walk to and then stand behind a man wearing a duster styled lab coat and wide-brimmed sable fedora, as if waiting for him to notice them.
The sable fedora donned man, upon noticing them, says with his back facing them, "Careful, this bar was built on hollow land, you might not want to swagger on them with the weight of your sins." One of the three men condescendingly thought, 'hah, this fool ain't even knows how to pronounciate the word hallow!'
The sable fedora donned man then finishes his glass of whiskey, and gestures the bartender over before saying, "A dry martini please, with three measures of Gordon's, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Ice-cold, shaken, not stirred. Then add a large thin slice of lemon peel." He then turns to the three, rather patiently, waiting men saying, "I do like a good drink before getting down to business. Now, what do you people want, looking for me and whatnot?"
The short man replies, "You the fella that recently messed wit one o' me mates?" The fedora-wearing man replies, "Ah... I don't remember beating anyone up recently, must be a different Constant. Mr. Molar Von. Lume, I think, not me. I'm known as Mr. Cage, Faraday Cage."
All the three men as well as everyone else eavesdropping on the conversation visibly became frightened. Conversation in the bar falls to pin drop silence. The average-heighted man, being the first to recover his composure asks, "Oh? Yer a Constant? Whose?" while trying to sound rather nonchalant.
Mr. Cage, with an amused smirk replies, "Relatively speaking, usually, no one likes asking about each other's bosses innit? But I'll tell you mine and you'll tell me yours, how about that? I'm Boltzmann's, yours?" The tall man, figuring out that Faraday was information probing says, "His name's Molec Ular. Mas, ye'll git to meet him soon after we "take" you to him."
Everyone in the bar suddenly whips their various weaponry out and points them at Mr Cage. Mr Cage looking shocked, replies, "Wait, hold up! What's with the sudden aggression?!" The short man then replies, "We don't really care for Constants messin' wit our business. Nothin' personal."
Mr Cage then says, with a slightly more panicked expression, as if sweat were about to fall down his face, "We could still talk this out right?" The bartender finishes mixing the drink, with a trembling hand, passes it to Mr Cage. He then proceeds to properly grip his gun.
Mr Cage's composure significantly changes stating, "Finally! My drink's ready! I don't need to keep stalling now." He then takes a long draught of his drink before challengingly stating, "Well come on? Shoot me then!"
Everyone there all became somewhat stunned, as if not quite believing that they would ever see a day in which someone asks to shoot them.
Mr. Cage, noticing this, replies, "I did say that I do not do business without a drink, did I not?"Everyone in the bar opens fire at the same time. Unloading drums and clips worth of ammunitions at Mr Cage. However, all the bullets and bearings slow to a stop then float in mid-air as Mr Cage slowly holds up his hand stating, "Everyone who has ever tried to capture me have all failed to understand one thing. E=MC^2!" As he shouts the formula out, all the bullets fly into his open hand, he then closes his fingers around them and, using the same bullet-holding-hand - except they somehow aren't bullets now, but instead, pure light, lightly opens his fingers while reaching towards and taps the ground with the palm of his hand.
A wave of pure heat and kinetic energy radiates throughout the entire bar, with Faraday Cage being in the centre of it. Everyone in the bar is simultaneously blown off their feet and knocked unconscious, except for the short guy, who was only dazed.
Mr Cage then takes a big gulp, finishing his drink before walks out of the bar, stops and while thinking out loud, then says, "I'm pretty sure I did get the frequency right... Right?" Suddenly, a loud rumbling could be heard as the entire bar sinks into the ground. As the dust settles, it was as if there was never a building there in the first place. Mr Cage then lightly smiles, thinking, "Ah, there it is."
The Physicist lightly tips his sable fedora, with his duster styled lab coat slightly disturbing the dust on the ground, he then turns towards a seemingly random direction and walks off into the sunset.
YOU ARE READING
The Scientists, a short pun story series.
Ciencia FicciónA collection of (somewhat) short stories about a trio in a Post-apocalyptic wild west sci-fi like world. (It doesn't matter if you have no prior knowledge of science, just read, you might even enjoy it ;))