Out Of Time

The Parlour

"Gentlemen!  Gentlemen!" Hosea said to two men outside the saloon as Sam went walking after him with a case of moonshine.  "Quite the town you have here!  We just rode in from up north!"

"Hey," one of the men said.

"Hello, hello, I'm Melvin.  This my nephew, Fenton.  Don't mind him, don't madden him, he's turned idiot.  Heh heh, killed his mother but it weren't his fault."

The two men looked at Sam skeptically.  "What, him?" one man asked.

She gave a sort of guttural noise with her eyes narrowed, giving them her meanest look.

"There there, Fenton, there there," Hosea said, patting Sam on the shoulder.  "Don't be like that now, ya hear?"

Sam gave another groan and kept her eyes squinted.  One of the men gulped and turned away from her to look at Hosea.  Damn, this was easier than she thought it was going to be.

"How'd you boys...how'd you boys like a couple of bucks?"  Hosea handed the men some money.  "I bet you would.  One for each of yas.  We're in the new trade of advertisin' which is an American art form about ensurin' people buy the correct things."

Sam almost nodded in approval.  That pretty much was advertising.  At least in this time, advertisements were actually related to the product being advertised, unlike the commercials she used to see on tv.  Like that one with Jason Mamoa stripping down his arms and chest to look like a feeble boy.  She had no idea what that commercial was actually about. 

"I don't know," one of the guys said hesitantly.

Hosea handed them each another dollar.  "One more dollar says give us a half an hour, what harm can we do in half an hour?"  Hosea wheezed a little chuckle.  "Go on now, enjoy the money!"  The two men left and Hosea grabbed his jug.  "Come along, Fenton.  Just hand out the liquor."

Hosea opened the door and Sam walked in after him.  "That was pretty good, Hosea," she whispered.

"Lesson number one, kid.  Bribery goes a long way.  And nice job actin' like a grumpy turned idiot man.  Just don't overdo it."  They walked down the hall and Hosea opened the door slightly ajar.  "Okay, go behind the bar and get ready," he said in a hush tone.

"Will do," she replied.

Sam walked away to the middle of the hallway to the opening of the bar.  "Gentlemen!"  Hosea shouted while he put the jug on the bar.  "Gentlemen!"  The music stopped and every man turned and looked at Hosea while Sam started grabbing shot glasses to line up.  "My name is Melvin.  This is my nephew Fenton.  He's a bit funny, but boy can he pour drinks fast.  For the next thirty minutes, the drinks in this bar, in this here town, are entirely free!"

The men started cheering and Sam wanted to smile.  The man sure knew how to put in a show.

"The only rule is that you gotta drink them, so hurry up, put old Fenton to work!"  The men started lining up.  "Don't get him mad, though.  His momma made him mad and we buried her, poor thing."  The men laughed as "Fenton" started pouring drinks.  "Now come up to the bar, everybody."

The piano guy started playing again and Sam began pouring drinks.  The men took shots and some shuddered, making random comments.

"Ah, that's some strong stuff."

"Just keep 'em comin'!"

"Haha, Mr. Gray won't be happy about this."

The bottle Sam had was now empty and she grabbed another one.  She uncorked it and began pouring once more.  As time went by, everyone was getting drunker and more demanding, so she quickened her pouring pace.  When that was gone, she reached for another bottle.  Suddenly she heard a very familiar cackling and she looked at the door.  It was Arthur, and he was pointing and laughing at her.  Sam growled and narrowed her eyes, trying her best to convey an expression that said, "shut the fuck up or I will kill you".