•Mötley Crüe Imagines•

"You're a fucking idiot"

⚠️Language + mention of blood⚠️
Mötley Crüe's stupidity
Requested- -vxrixx ❤
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"Another round on me!" Vince yelled to the crowd surrounding him at the bar, a goofy grin plastered on his face. The man was far from drunk, but just like the others, he was there for a good time. Nikki and Tommy were by his side, Mick left the bar early due to exhaustion, and they didn't hesitate to pound back more shots.

With their album Girls, Girls, Girls reaching number 2 on the charts, they had plenty of pocket money to spend. And what better way to spend it all than on cheap booze? With Nikki paired up with his Jack Daniel's bottle, and Tommy trying out every drink on the menu, it was no surprise things got to be a little rowdy. But it wasn't anything unusual, so the boys throw a few punches, who cares?

"Man, I need a fuckin' dart," Tommy groaned, feeling around in his jacket pockets for a cigarette, but had no luck.

"I used my last one before we came," Nikki said before taking a hefty swig of the alcohol present in his hand. Tommy, desperately wanting a smoke, looked around the bar for anyone who may have.

This was the 80s, of course someone was bound to have one. Everyone smoked, didn't they?

Tommy locked his eyes on a cigarette hanging on a man's lip. This man was three times the size Tommy was, muscle wise. The man was covered in tattoos, bald, and didn't look like the type you'd want to walk over to and strike up a conversation with. But of course, a suicidal Tommy needed a smoke.

"Hey! Muscle man," Tommy made his way over to the burly man, who didn't look too pleased with the drummer in his general area; "mind if I borrow a dart?"

"Screw off, kid," the man simply laughed before taking the cigarette out of his mouth and blowing the smoke away; "a scrawny kid like you smokes cigs? I can't imagine how your lungs feel," the man continued to laugh, and soon, his buddies started joining in as well.

But, Tommy being Tommy, he needed a cigarette. Without any hesitation, he quickly lunged forward and snatched the half stick out of the mans fingers. Tommy connected the stick with his lips, took a breath in, and slowly melted into the fumes.

"You lookin' for a fight?" The man got up, and though Tommy was taller, he wouldn't stand a chance against the tatted man.

"Nope, just a smoke," Tommy flashed a smug smile, then turned to walk away. The drummer only got a couple steps in before the tatted mans large hand grabbed a fist full of his hair.

"I'll kill you myself if you don't keep your mouth shut!" the man yelled so the whole bar could hear. Nikki and Vince's ears perked up, and once realizing their friend was in danger, they rushed over.

"You lookin' for a fight?" Vince used the exact same line the tatted man did, unintentionally of course.

"What are you gonna do, blondie?" A different man sneered as he looked the singer up and down. The name always tipped Vince over the edge, since it was always used as an insult.

"Just you wait and see," Vince threatened, pulling a switchblade out of his jacket pocket.

This gave Nikki, Tommy, and Vince the confidence they needed to actually fight, though Vince would throw punches whether or not he had a blade on him. To the tatted man and his crew, these were just some street punks who didn't know anything.