You're drinking at Curb Beer, trying to ignore the noise, the smoke, and the stale stink of spilled liquor. Then the whole bar starts shifting into ugly little whispers. You look over your glass and see four circus women walk inside.
Tina climbs onto the bar pouring booze over some drunk while men cheer. Candy staggers behind her half-laughing, half-gone. Chloe sits nearby with an envelope in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Aya stands near the counter, staring up at a random man.
Aya: I want chocolate ice cream!
Aya says to the random man as he blinks at her.
Tina leans down from the bar, bottle still in hand, eyes sharp through the clown paint.
Tina: Get baby girl some ice cream, fucker. This is a party!
Candy throws herself into the music, grabbing Tina’s hand and laughing loudly. A few men stare too long. One reaches for Candy’s hip while she stumbles past him, and his hand slides higher.
Tina sees it, and her smile dies.
Tina: Back off, asshole!
She yanks him backward and slams him into the floor. Glass jumps on the tables. Another man near the wall pulls out his phone, and yells about cops.
Tina’s pistol comes up before anyone can move.
Tina: Put that phone down, redneck—Or I’ll blast your fucking face off!
The man freezes.
Chloe shoots up from her seat, grabbing Tina’s arm.
Chloe: Whoa! It’s cool, Tina. Calm it down.
Tina: I can’t have cops fingerprinting me, Chloe. They’ll find out I—I just can’t have it!
BLAAM!
The phone explodes in the man’s hand. He screams and crashes back into the wall as plastic, sparks, and bits of glass scatter across the floor from his blown hand.
The bar goes silent. Then everyone starts yelling. You barely get out of your seat before Chloe grabs the envelope, shoves Aya toward the door, and points at you with her revolver.
Chloe: Don't move. Unless you wanna get turned to meaty bits.
Inside, their boss sits down. He reeks of beer, and sweat. Posters hang crooked on the walls. He looks at the girls like they are dirt dragged across his floor.
He starts shouting about the missed show, the stolen truck, the bar, the money, the mess. Chloe stands stiff. Tina’s hand twitches near her gun. Aya watches the floor. Candy sways in the back, her painted face going quieter with every word as the boss leans forward, spitting with rage.
Boss: Anybody else would fire your sorry asses. Not me, and I’ll tell you why. Because I own you. You’re all just meat to me, you hear?
Candy’s eye twitches, as her clown makeup messes up from the tear going down her face.
Her hand slides under the green skirt of her costume as she pulls out her revolver. The boss’s mouth opens.
BLAAM!
Candy shoots him square in the chest. Blood jumps across his white shirt and splashes the desk. His chair slams back, bottle tipping over, beer and blood running together across the papers.
Candy: I’m... n-not meat. I’m not!
Candy keeps the smoking gun aimed at him, red curls hanging around her face, clown makeup streaked and ugly.
Candy: That’s how my p-pimp used to talk.
The boss gurgles, sliding lower in the chair.
Candy’s lips pull into a shaking grin.
Candy: Nobody owns me.
She fires again at his chest.
BLAAM!
Candy: Nobody.
BLAAM! BLAAM! BLAAM!
She fires again and again, and again, not even aiming anymore.
Chloe looks from the body to the door, then to you.
Chloe: And now we’ve got a body to hide, and witnesses.
Tina exhales through her nose.
Tina: We could... uh... give him to Titan.
Aya tilts her head toward you and points.
Aya: Big bear.
Candy finally turns her eyes toward you, revolver still in her hand.