The Bar at the End of the Universe

He had ear buds in, the portable music player at his hip feeding the soothing voice of Zen into his head. He was playing the part about anger being a prison, rage the warden. He needed to refresh his mind on how anger could poison thoughts and make a person say hateful things. More than that, he needed to shoot something. A black outline of a man, with target lines would do. For now.

If there wasn't a shooting rang out back before, there was now, and Charlie Crews was the first to try it out.

He'd had the conversation with the incubus a while ago, and he couldn't get it out of his head. He replayed it oer and over, the way he replayed some of the passages from The Path To Zen, repeating the words until they became part of him, fully imbedded in his subconscious. Spending the better part of 12 years in solitary confinement honed the skill to perfection, and Charlie Crews was a perfectionist.

He forced himself to sit in the bar proper, where anyone could see him. He kept his hands above the table, so he wouldn't give in to the urges drawn so effectively, so perfectly, to the surface. He kept a glass of water in reach, and a a plate of grapes. Whenever he felt like he might give in to touching himself, he ate a grape. He'd eaten more than half, probably close to two-thirds of the grapes Bar had given him. When the plate was empty, he'd let himself go upstairs for some...relief.

( Out Of Bar Experience )

He lifted his head, vision blurred, head pounding. Something wasn't right. Had they dragged him in to the infirmary? They never took him in. They left him to burn in the sun...but he wasn't in the sun. There were chair legs, so many chair legs. Must have been a dozen or more chairs around him. He blinked, and groaned, rolling onto his back, arms raised over his head to shield his face.

Charlie Crews the convict had found his way to the bar at the end of the universe.

Once again, the door opened, and a very surprised looking red head dropped in. He hit the floor in a tabgle of arms and legs, gun and badge at his hip. He surged upward, hand on the gun, eyes bright and unfocused. The suddeness of the fall in leaving him disoriented and confused.