553/500 WORDS
Ilda Nora
One day, I'll prove I'm not the monster they say.
It wasn't often that Ilda found herself at a nightclub, but a friend had invited her and she didn't feel like fighting them on the matter. Within ten minutes, Ilda was left alone at the bar, downing a shot of whiskey to loosen her stressed head and muscles. "Hit me with another," She told the barkeep, who gladly served her a second round in hopes of seeing some more money being made than just the two she'd ordered so far.
Down the bar, a nearly blackout drunk fellow was shouting blasphemy of all sorts, including that he could beat anyone in the nightclub at various things. It started with dancing, which he quickly lost to at least ten people- but then it moved up a notch. A mechanical bull riding contest.
"Why does a nightclub even have one of those?" Ilda sputtered.
"We were originally a rodeo themed bar. Things change, but we kept the bull for hahas and for the old folk that used to come here." Apparently, the bartender didn't comprehend it was rhetorical, but Ilda let that be. What she couldn't let be was the old man currently trying to pick a fight with everyone- including Ilda, who anyone could likely say loved a good challenge.
There was now a line of intoxicated people taking their turns against the mechanical beast- a beast that was surprisingly realistic, and moving rather violently. "I forgot to mention we have an issue with the controls... It automatically starts at the highest setting."
"Could'a told us that earlier, Jack." Ilda groaned, watching at least two people out of five vomit atop the wild machine. Another two fell off and landed right on their heads.
Ilda was sure she heard a crack, but had to leave it be when her turn came about. She whispered to the bartender to get some medical aid for the injured and walked towards the monstrosity- the man who started the chaos in its entirety. "You knew it was broken, didn't you?"
"So what if I did?" The man spit in her face, drool still dripping from his lips as he stared directly into her eyes. The alcohol had taken over.
"No one uses dirty tricks around me and survives, you got that? Now I'm going to beat you at this, and then I'm gonna beat you with all I've got. Now hurry up and get on it. Be ready to take your defeat like a man."
The man growled, getting up onto the wild bull-like contraption. He hit start and was immediately struggling to keep his hands on the rein-shaped handle. Within ten seconds, he was thrown off completely, but got back on his feet surprisingly fast.
"Think you can really beat that, girly?"
"Oh, I know I can. Unlike you, I don't need dirty tricks to know it." She hopped on with her feet planted firmly, hands gripping onto the handle like an iron fist. "Let's start the show."
She hit the button and immediately felt the energy trying to whip her away. She gripped with all her might, teeth clenched as she felt her butt coming off the seat. She managed just over ten seconds- twelve- before she was flung into a wall. The barkeep cheered. "And we have a winner! ...What was your name again miss?"
Down the bar, a nearly blackout drunk fellow was shouting blasphemy of all sorts, including that he could beat anyone in the nightclub at various things. It started with dancing, which he quickly lost to at least ten people- but then it moved up a notch. A mechanical bull riding contest.
"Why does a nightclub even have one of those?" Ilda sputtered.
"We were originally a rodeo themed bar. Things change, but we kept the bull for hahas and for the old folk that used to come here." Apparently, the bartender didn't comprehend it was rhetorical, but Ilda let that be. What she couldn't let be was the old man currently trying to pick a fight with everyone- including Ilda, who anyone could likely say loved a good challenge.
There was now a line of intoxicated people taking their turns against the mechanical beast- a beast that was surprisingly realistic, and moving rather violently. "I forgot to mention we have an issue with the controls... It automatically starts at the highest setting."
"Could'a told us that earlier, Jack." Ilda groaned, watching at least two people out of five vomit atop the wild machine. Another two fell off and landed right on their heads.
Ilda was sure she heard a crack, but had to leave it be when her turn came about. She whispered to the bartender to get some medical aid for the injured and walked towards the monstrosity- the man who started the chaos in its entirety. "You knew it was broken, didn't you?"
"So what if I did?" The man spit in her face, drool still dripping from his lips as he stared directly into her eyes. The alcohol had taken over.
"No one uses dirty tricks around me and survives, you got that? Now I'm going to beat you at this, and then I'm gonna beat you with all I've got. Now hurry up and get on it. Be ready to take your defeat like a man."
The man growled, getting up onto the wild bull-like contraption. He hit start and was immediately struggling to keep his hands on the rein-shaped handle. Within ten seconds, he was thrown off completely, but got back on his feet surprisingly fast.
"Think you can really beat that, girly?"
"Oh, I know I can. Unlike you, I don't need dirty tricks to know it." She hopped on with her feet planted firmly, hands gripping onto the handle like an iron fist. "Let's start the show."
She hit the button and immediately felt the energy trying to whip her away. She gripped with all her might, teeth clenched as she felt her butt coming off the seat. She managed just over ten seconds- twelve- before she was flung into a wall. The barkeep cheered. "And we have a winner! ...What was your name again miss?"
Yay puns!
IVYLEAF33
