We're going to need to get his pants off.
Who: Sulu, Kirk, Isabella, McCoy, Scotty, Varric, thug midgets. Please tag if I've missed anyone! What: Meetings, drinkins, and bar brawl redeux w/the Shortbread Battalion - the Helm's Deep edition! lulz! When: Today! Where: Mad Dogs & Englishmen Rating: PG-13, Language, innuendo, the usual - but no friskiness! Status: Complete
Varric's bar? Is best bar. In fact, someone had scrawled that in chalk beneath the sign.
Hopefully not at midget height! Because that might indicate the return of Shortbread/Shortcake/TinyTony.
Sulu had rolled his car into Scotty's garage, and decided to walk to the bar from there. It was generally safer, and having to walk back meant he limited his liquor intake.
Varric had just gotten in a shipment of genuine Scottish Scotch. He was watching the clock for a certain Scotsman to catch a whiff.
And since Scotty had already gotten a motor and batteries, that meant his car was even safer than before! Speaking of scotch-infused devils, a certain Scotsman popped up onto his feet at the sound of a car pulling in, frowned cuz he couldn't pull the car apart. Sad times. But Sulu got waved at! "...'alloo, Mr. Sulu!"
Scotty's parking lot? He could have one. It worked.
It was even guarded by a pair of former drug dealers now working for Varric as a sort of neighborhood watch.
"Scotty! Hey!" Sulu waved, "I hope you don't mind that I parked here. I'm kind of scared someone's going to tag my car or a midget is going to get tossed out the door and right into it or something."
"Nae, that's fine. I was thinking of heading tae the pub, meself. It's not like I have, ye know, customers," he quipped, then he eyed the car, covetously. “I could tear intae it an' adjust it again, though."
Sulu eyed Scotty suspiciously, then eyed his car, "You said you had batteries now. No taking her apart! But lets get some drinks. Jim's probably started without us."
No, anything but that! Kirk had a headstart. That? Was a travesty and this situation must be set right, immediately. With alcohol. Scotty eyedarted, and started hustling. "Locking up now." In a matter of minutes, he'd shoo'd out Sulu and shut the garage doors, locked 'em, and twirled the keys around an index finger. "Ready tae go, lad!"
Sulu laughed and allowed himself to be shooed out, then started heading down the street! It really would be a tragedy if Jim got himself into a bar fight without them to back him up, after all.
Exactly! Thus the need for haste. Because Kirk might need backup. Which has nothing to do with anyone having a headstart in any potential pissing contests. Scotty was whistling merrily the whole way, and he was kind of glad that (not)Jay and Silent (un)Bob weren't slinging drugs between here and there, anymore.
Sulu kind of missed them, actually. At least they'd been consistant. But it was probably better for everyone if they weren't out on the street peddling drugs. When he got to the front of the bar he squinted up at the message scrawled in chalk. "I bet Jim put that there."
"Or Tony, with a ladder. Tough wee bastard," tsk'd Scotty, while staring up at the message as well. "Great advertising though. Well done!"
"Full marks for grammar," Sulu tipped his hat at the message, then headed inside, "Varric! Scotty's here to drink everyone under the bar, I thought I'd watch!"
And in goes Scotty, with both arms raised up. Yay! The pickled liver champion arrives!
"Hide yer wives an' daughters though, if Kirk's here," so said Scotty, still raising both arms up like \o/ and yaaaay.
Varric held out his arms, "TINKER! MAV! I've just got a new shipment of Scotch!"
Up at the bar, there's a Leo sitting on the end stool, putting away a double. That remark, which he overhears, gets a snicker out of him. Yeah. He hangs out here a lot. Hasn't seen the fight that's probably a thing of legend by now, but still...
Kirk swiveled on a stool, "And he wouldn't let me try it until you got here."
"Here now! Let's drink." Scotty had seen Leo around before, and gave him a wave and a smile. "Oh, he needs some. Scotch for everyone. Wives an' daughters for Kirk."
"Not the wives and the daughters, Scotty! We need to have a few undamaged souls left to diversify our population." he smirked at Scotty and hopped up onto a bar stool, then glanced in Leo's direction and gave him a mock salute.
Varric poured quickly, slinging the scotch down the bar towards Scotty and Sulu at ludicrous speed.
"Ye honestly think he's gonnae leave any stones unturned?" asked Scotty, sat closer toward Leo, and putting his elbows on the bar so he could lean forward on it. He caught the scotch and toasted. Next one was Sulu's. "Varric, is Joe back there? I need food. And tae find out what that bastard looks like, finally." Not giving up. No.
"What do you want, I'll pass the order back to Joe." Varric hopped off his stool and started for the back. Kirk tried to crane his neck to see into the kitchen but had about as much luck as Scotty did. His curiosity? Roused.
Craning neck? No, Scotty used the bar as leverage so he could lean over as far as he could to one side in a desperate attempt to see what Joe looked like. He's even wavering back and forth a little, with his mouth held open a bit and he's squinting and maybe he can catch a glimpse. Maybe. "Chips?"
Any more, and he'd be over the bar and falling off, behind it.
"Any of you fall over, and I'm not first aiding." Leo remarked, smirking. "Liable to sew you to each other instead, and then where'd you end up?"
"Well I do miss his manliness," Jim quipped, swiveling again to study the other man.
"... I uhm..." Sulu coughed, and then picked his scotch up and sipped at it, "Yeah, no first aiding in the bar. That's a bad idea. Let's stick to first aiding ourselves at Scotty's garage."
"Maybe he can stich ye tae me, Jimmy, and then we can be cuddle buddies forever an' evers." Scotty flashed a huge grin at them and then twiddled his fingers down at Kirk like hellooooosweeeetie. "Kirk'll pay for the med bill!"
"So, I'll be sure to leave that part alone." Leo smirked and gave him a little nod. "Leo McCoy. And I for sure know who you are. Famous."
"Make that infamous," Varric said, coming out with chips for Scotty. He flashed a charming grin and refilled Scotty's glass.
"I'm wounded." Kirk pressed a hand to his chest, "Kirk. Jim Kirk."
Which was good, since someone had already swigged that scotch down. Then he sat, nomming on chips and drinking that glass at a much more liesurely pace.
Sulu sat there, drinking his scotch and watching the horror unfold.
"Jim Kirk." Leo gave him a nod. "So. Heard I missed a decent fight the other night. Figures the night I've got the late shift something fun happens."
"That was brilliant!" interjected Scotty, while pointing a chip toward...no one in particular, it's just a pointer of some sort to indicate the sheer awesome and win, while he's talking. "It had midgets!"
"I was looking for trouble, and Cupcake was looking for trouble, so it all worked out." He clapped a hand on Scotty's back, "He had my back. And there were flying midgets!"
"Midgets?" That gets a blink. "Were these actual midgets or oompa loompa drunk hallucination things?"
"Oh they were real. Aye. Tiny Tony, he was out for revenge. I dunnae know if ye ever heard me ranting and raving about what a shite employee he was....unpaid, but that's not the principle of it," so says Scotty, while eating chips during pauses. "The principle was he was a shite employee and he came back for revenge because something I built exploded and he went flying. So he got sent flying out the door, there." Point. With chip.
"Actual honest to god midgets." The bartender grinned, nodding his head at Scotty as the other man filled McCoy in.
"Then I landed on him!" finished Scotty, proudly. "Kirk threw me!"
"Good God." Leo shook his head, but couldn't hide an amused grin. "Tell me there's a hidden camera in here and somebody got the footage of that. You'd make a million on Funniest Home Videos, Varric. Funniest bar videos?"
"The camera hasn't worked in four years, but don't tell anyone that."
"I'd watch that. If I had any telly at all tae speak of," Scotty said, quickly polishing off the last of the chips. And he doesn't have a tv and hasn't had one for a good long while. This is what happens when you read technical manuals in your free time.
"What're you having, McCoy?" Kirk gestured with a hand, grinning, "I'll buy."
"Whiskey and you're a god among men, Kirk." Free booze? best friend for life here.
"Give him a whole bottle, Varric!"
"Sure thing, Playboy."
"Damn, seriously?" McCoy looks impressed and shocked. "I think I'm supposed to be proposing right now, kid. Don't know if I will but etiquette and all."
Varric plopped the bottle down and offered, "I'm an ordained minister."
Kirk started choking on his drink.
Sulu definitely did choke on his.
"I feel like I've been dumped. Oh wait, nae, I dunnae." Scotty snerked and just kept right on drinking at a leisurely pace.
As did McCoy, who eventually did recover. "Well you haven't even let us register yet, Varric." Smirk. "We've got to start by picking out the right china you know."
"You don't want nice china, he'd just end up breaking it, or you'd break it when you started throwing it at him." Sulu smirked.
Scotty started to laugh, into his glass, so it echoed.
"A nice set and an ugly one?" McCoy asked Kirk. "That way we'll be safe."
Kirk raised his fist. To seal the deal with brofist.
Which McCoy returned. It was even more precious than a marriage ceremony, really.
All hail, the brofist.
Sulu wondered if they had any vows. "Do you guys want me to go find some rings? Maybe some matching towels?"
"Needs to be more serious than that, Sulu!" Kirk raised his glass in toast, "As long as I get tail on the side."
"Fine by me." McCoy raised his own. "And there'll need to be espresso machines involved somewhere."
"If that's your wedding vows, you two are already heading for divorce." Sulu toasted Scotty as he said that, since he figured Scotty would totally have his back on this one, then added, "If there's espresso machines involved, there should probably be a prenup."
Scotty was nodding and toasting right back. That M word was a evil, bad word. So was the W for Weddings. "I'll just make the other one an espresso machine an' then they can go their seperate ways. Nae harm done."
Scotty gave them all a thumbs up and a smile.
"I'll give the espresso machine." Varric gestured at the end of the bar. "It doesn't work any more anyway."
Laughing, Kirk downed his drink, gesturing for Varric to refill it, which the short man promptly obliged. As long as there wasn't another bar fight. Tonight anyway.
A squint, and Scotty was wondering why he hadn't fixed that espresso machine there. But it was now on his list to bust open and fixerate.
"We're gonna have the best damn thirty minutes or less marriage ever." McCoy proclaimed it.
"More power tae ye both. That marriage stuffs nothing tae mess about with. Evil shite, that is!" Scotty finished off his drink and was thinking about what tools he'd need. Too bad it didn't make regular coffee, though. Stupid fancy stuff.
This entire thing was silly, but Sulu supposed that's why he hung out with these guys to begin with. "Congratulations on your pending nuptials."
"Why thank you." Yeah. This really IS the best bar isn't it? With the best customer base.
"I could probably marry. If I found the right girl." Kirk sat back, a smug smile crossing his face, "Had a good time last night. She really knew her stuff."
If Scotty's eyes rolled up any more, they would get stuck staring at the back of his own skull. In fact, he swiveled slowly on the stool, so that Sulu and Leo could both see his face. Kirk. Settled down? Neverrrrrrrr.
"Is this girl a, b, c, or d that you picked up off that valarnet blog site now?" Sulu shook his head, "Did you even get her name?"
"Isabela, and she has the curves to match her name."
"Lass from India, aye?"
That would be the one who flirted with a guy while picking another guy up, and Sulu figured that if those two were hooking up and settling down, they deserved eachother. It was just really, really amusing. He saluted Kirk with his glass, "Good luck with that, Sir."
Scotty is just going to sit there, with a huge grin, like it'll be a cold day in hell when someone like Kirk settles down, and Scotty would fall off the stool of some pub somewhere when he heard the news, from a heart attack.
"Oh, she's not the settling down type. She's the 'bang whenever you get a chance but don't commit' type." Kirk wasn't prepared to settle down, but it would have to be one with a healthy sexual appetite.
Scotty had been taking a drink and it ended up being choked on, followed by a coughing fit and a stink-eyed stare at Kirk like WUT?
"Well at least you know where you stand, I guess." Sulu still looked amused.
"That I do, Hikaru, that I do." Kirk raised his glass in toast to sluts everywhere!
Guess they were toasting to Kirk then! Scotty raised his glass a little, with one last cough.
Varric poured himself a glass, and raised it to sluts of every sort.
McCoy could go along with that. Why not?
Somewhere, Gaila Cassandra Byrne-O'Callaghan was squinting in the general direction of Mad Dogs.
Isabela felt her ears burning. That couldn't possibly be a coincidence.
McCoy wasn't even a slut himself, or much of one anyway, but all the same...He feels sort of like he could be in the right circumstances. Can't decide right now if that's good or bad.
“Anyone want her number?" Because Kirk believed in spreading the manslut love.
And Scotty? Like McCoy, he was not a slut, either. His outside exterior is kind of crunchy like deep fried batter of being stuck-in-his-ways, but his insides are soft and smushy like a mars bar when it comes to girls. "Nae, that's fine, lad. I dunnae think I need that."
Kirk smiled slyly, "You ever make it up to Cassie?"
Varric tilted his head, "Make what up to Cass?" She was due to return to work soon, and he was somewhat protective of her.
He also had a working flintlock. Loaded. Right next to him.
Which McCoy had admired on many occasions.
"Oh nae, it's fine. That was sorted. Had a disagreement," Scotty was saying, waving it off. "Difference of opinion. Really. We were both being stubborn." Move along, nothing to see.
"I don't need her number, but thank you." Sulu emptied his glass and slid it over to Varric, then made the motion like he was keeping his eyes on Varric while he filled it up.
He swore Varric'd been watering down his beer. He wasn't that big a lightweight!
Varric eyed Sulu. He was pretty sure he knew why he wouldn't need Sal's number, but wasn't about to out him in front of people when he wasn't sure the other man had a clue himself. He didn'tt water it down this time.
“So you kissed and made up? How is she in bed?" Kirk leaned forward excitedly.
"Tch! Tch tch tchhh!" Scotty was cringing and leaning in an away motion. "What's wrong with ye?! Ye dunnae just go around asking people that!"
As for Sulu, Scotty wasn't really going to judge him on orientation, as character rated higher, and Sulu was good people, as far as he was concerned. But that's a story for another time.
McCoy had unfortunately just taken a sip of his drink. He's now choking.
Sulu was so far into the closet he was finding christmas presents from 18 years ago, so it was good that no one was asking him about why he had as much interest in girls as most people had in quantity surveying.
He took his now not watered down drink and took a sip, then tried not to cough when it was stronger than he was used to.
Varric grinned.
"You wouldn't have kissed and made up if I hadn't said anything to begin with!" Kirk poked Scotty in the chest.
Scotty backpatted McCoy to help, and it helped to avoid answering incriminating questions. He was also trying to lean to avoid the chest poking. "Get aff! Ye had a decent piece of advice, for once, that's all there was tae it!"
He's probably backpatting a little harder than he originally intended. Sorry McCoy.
"For once??"
"ONCE, I'd said!"
McCoy...sort of stopped coughing and hacking. Scotty got a grateful nod. "Didn't want to end up on my own table. Thanks."
"Dinnae mention it." Slap slap goes his hand a couple more times, just to make sure no more coughing happened. Then Scotty went right back to drinking, like he was sipping water.
Kirk mercifully changed the subject, "Tell us about yourself, McCoy."
"Let's see now..." McCoy considers the reader's digest condensed version. "I'm from Georgia but there was an internship here, then a job, so here I am. They pay me to cut open bodies and root around for clues." And how weird was that, when you thought about it?
"So you're in forensics?" Sulu perked up a bit.
Scotty's eyebrows were raised way up, like that sounded fascinating. And pretty disgusting, at the same time.
"Needles here has an iron stomach," Varric said, helpfully.
"Needles?" That didn't seem to fit, as far as Kirk was concerned. A rare miss for Varric.
"You bet I do." McCoy agreed. "Comes in handy the condition they get brought to the lab in sometimes."
He won't add the part where that's true unless he's trapped somewhere too far above the ground yet.
Anytime spent with Kirk is likely to lead to such a scenario.
"Forensic science is really... really awesome, I could have gone into that," Sulu smiled, "I just wanted to see the stars more, I guess."
"I saw stars last night." Insert Kirk!grin, here.
"Oh, that was terrible," Scotty was saying, with a half-wince, half-smile at the cheesetasticalness.
"It really was." Sulu just shook his head at Kirk.
"Not even partial points for effort?
"Nae, I dunnae think so." Still shaking his head. "Maybe ye ought tae ask her?" Trollface.
"Stars, hmm?" McCoy's interested. "Sounds good too. I don't know much about them but I can see where that'd be interesting."
Kirk fished his phone out, and flipped it open, dialing Isabela's number.
Scottish facepalm!
Lord but this was the absolute worst time for anyone to be calling Isabela's phone.
Ring ring, banana phone!
Someone eventually picked up, and the voice was grumpy and sort of gravelly, "The Whore can't answer you right now."
Kirk raised an eyebrow, answering smoothly and with a higher pitched voice than normal, "I was looking for Isabela? I got her package by mistake. Its wrapped in brown paper." He figured that was safe enough, to imply naughty toys.
There was a string of cursing in what seemed like arabic, and then the phone was tossed to Isabela, "You know I think I'd remember ordering naughty packages."
"Oh! I'm sorry, its for an Isiah Ravaili! I have the wrong person entirely."
Sulu just kind of wondered what the hell Kirk was doing.
What the hell? McCoy cocked his head as he listened to this, trying to work out what the fuck was going down here.
"... right, obviously you've got the wrong number, Playboy."
Yep, Scotty was wondering the same thing.
Kirk covered the mouthpiece, "Jealous roommate, I'm trying to cover for her."
In retrospect mentioning that word over the phone with potential ex-something-or-other standing right there, not such a great idea. Isabela was full of not so great ideas.
Well, a thumbs up from Scotty, then! Look at Kirk, being so helpful!
"Anyway I'm hanging up right now to do a heavy amount of drinking somewhere not at my house. I hear there's a bar out there that's the best bar." And with that, Isabela hung up.
Kirk eyed his phone.
"Well I guess I'll never know if she saw stars." With that, he slipped the phone back into his pocket and then downed his entire glass.
"What about we ask her the next time we see her?" McCoy grinned.
Eyedart. Scotty just kind of quietly finished off that glass of scotch, because - ouch - that didn't sound quite so good.
Kirk just shrugged, "She sounded like she needed a drink."
Sulu grinned, "Maybe she's out in the street and someone's throwing things at her."
"Well, we get a couple down her, make her happy, then you ask, Surefire way to get the answer that you want."
Somehow? Kirk could believe that.
"More the merrier, aye?" asked Scotty.
"In more ways than one," Varric suggested.
Sulu nearly spittaked his drink at that.
Varric? Still had it in him.
Snickerfit.
There was some definite echoing of McCoy’s snickering, from Scotty's direction.
Kirk? lifted his hands and clapped. Bravo! "Drinks for everyone!"
Sulu spread his hands out around the bar, trying to find napkins.
Yay! Scotty was cheering like \o/ because no way was he going to turn down a free drink.
Neither was McCoy, vulture that he was. And opportunist.
Well if there were free drinks, Sulu was all over that, because being in this company made him extremely uncomfortable in some inner way that he really, really didn't want to think about.
So drinks? Keep those coming, he can always crash on his hood for the night.
It's not like the car was going to roll backwards, with the parking brake set on.
Varric pulled out the expensive stuff. Because he's an ass. He also took out the big glasses. Tankards, really, and started to pour, "Its always a good night when Kirk is around."
Everyone in the bar cheered!
Over in a corner table, Sebastian actually surfaces from beneath a pile of books to give a thumbs up in the direction of the bar.
Yay, thumbs up! And nothing was broken!
Not a punch was thrown.
Not yet, anyway!
The door suddenly burst open. Standing there was a very short man. So short he made Varric look tall. Behind him, crowding the door were at least fifteen men and women, all of the same height. All were weilding bats, chains, and wearing black leather. With studs. The leader let out a bellow, "SCOOOOOOTTY!" And with that, the Shortbread Battallion charged!
Shit? Just got real.
Aww, shit just got real. Again. Scotty facepalmed. Hard.
Sulu stared at the door in disbelief.
"Not this guy again..."
One of the patrons got kneecapped, hard. His buddy lunged for the midget, getting a chain across the face for his trouble!
Wait, it was an entire shortbread patrol? Like ... a baker's dozen of shortbread? With whips and chains? Sulu wondered why this stuff always happened when he was drunk.
"Not again! Shite! I'm not paying! We had an agreement, I built, ye drive an' get exploded! Which is still amusing, I'll have ye know." Scotty was off the stool and standing, and looked ready to punt a midget. Again. In fact? He's doing the beckoning finger wag like 'come thee hither and get thee thy ass whooping.'
Tony shook a tiny fist, then pulled out a knife. It was half again his size and really, more like a sword, "You nearly got me killed! Worse, I got blacklisted! I can't get another job because of you! IMACUTYOU!"
"Goddamnit." McCoy muttered, downing his drink before throwing it at the midgets. Welll, the glass anyway.
Kirk watched all this with a sort of awed expression on his face. He put his hands over his head in a Scotty-Level Victory pose, then picked up a chair and smashed it onto the first wave of the oncoming Shortbread Battalion. That didn't seem to stop them, and soon he was overwhelmed, one climbing up his back and beating him on the head with a club, another wrapping a chain around his legs and tugging him to the ground.
"Oh, nice shot," commented Scotty to McCoy, with a thumbs up! Now, back to business. "Ye gonnae cut me. Really. I might need a wee plaster on me kneecap. Oh noes....oh, well...nevermind, there goes Kirk." And there goes Scotty. And there goes Tony, flying. He can take his little rib sticker midget sword, with him.
Scotty threw that little bastard, oh yes, he did, because Tony was small and portable. And flew well. He knew from firsthand explosion experience.
One of Tony's friends slid between Scotty's legs, her fist smashing upward on a clear trajectory for Scottish Jewels.
"Ah fuck it," McCoy muttered half under his breath as he looked around for a weapon, found a nearly empty bottle, drank, then knocked off the bottom. Now, armed with bottle, he charged forth himself.
NOT THE JEWELS! Ouch, that was going to leave a mark. There goes Scotty, doubled over and down on one side, in a fetal position. Prone and now at a low level for shorties to pummel on him.
Four midgets swarmed onto McCoy!
Kirk kicked some of his assailants off, trying to make it to Scotty before a pack of the crazed little people descended upon the Scotsman like piranhas on beef.
McCoy crouched into a better fighting position, telling himself it was just like middle school or something. Of course there you couldn't use weapons so...
Too late! One had bitten into Scotty’s wrist and was gnawing away, angrily. Blood thirsty midgets! "BUGGERFUCKBASTARDARSES!"
Three more jumped onto Scotty, like he was a wee person's trampoline. Wee people with steeltoed boots.
There was another one. He was shimmering up a wall in a corner and like ninja, lept onto Sulu!
"... why... why do I always get myself into these MESSES WHY?!" Sulu put on his WAR FACE and jumped up on top of the bar. It was easier to get perspective there and see which midget's ass he had to go all Jackie Chan on this time.
Except of course now he had a midget all ninja on him.
There was only so long until his temper would override the pain, and Scotty reached his boiling point pretty quickly. Up he went, onto his feet, punching one midget dude in the face and pushing one of the midget chicks over. Because hurting girls is wrong even if they are only like...the perfect height to put a beer on top of their head and watch soccer. Take that, wee people!
Of course, he still has a midget attached to him, by it's midget teeth.
Sulu was about to punt kick this guy. We'll call him shortbread number 12. Right through a bar window or something.
McCoy brandished his bottle like it was a sword of some kind, and tried to draw his little group of them closer to him. "Remind me to not do this again." He called over his shoulder.
Kirk punted the one chewing on Scotty's wrist and patted him on the shoulder, "Bones over there needs help, you go left, I'll go right."
One tiny woman, her belly swollen with child, smacked McCoy across the face. With a fish. She shot a dirty look at the owner of said fish dinner when he objected.
"Aye!" Scotty gave him an appreciative nod and went uncomfortably veering off to the left, knocking over the wee lasses and punting (and a thrown punch) for the wee lads.
"Right, I'll remind you not to ever swim into a crowd of knee-deep killer little people with a broken beer bottle as your weapon." Sulu kicked his leg a few times to remove the ninja person, and sent the person flying at another shortbread trying to bite McCoy's arm.
From the doorway of the bar, Isabela just sort of stood there, leaning and smirking. She sort of wished she had popcorn.
"Much oblidged!" McCoy called to Sulu, then tried to go in for a midget kick only well, Gravity was awkward under the circumstances.
Varric, meanwhile, had his hands full with another swarm of them, that had emerged from the kitchen. They were battling a skinny woman with dark hair in a french braid, screaming obscenities in French while wailing on a midget with a cast iron pan.
Finally, they get to see Joe!
And punt! There goes a flying midget, courtesy of a boot to it's arse from Scotty, before it could jump McCoy from behind.
Two midgets pantsed Isabela and shoved her over!
WHAT?! Now Scotty was staring and he POINTED and forgot all about the mini people brawl going on and even about his aching family jeweles, because JOE WAS NOT A MAN, BABY. Mind? Blown.
Joesephine Lebleu was most definitely not a man. She dropped her pan and whipped out a huge butcher knife. Her assailants turned and fled and she shouted, "Come back here!"
Jim whirled around and stared, then gave her a 'hey baby how are YOU' grin. While punching another midget in the back of the head.
Oh they didn't just.... they did just... ! Isabela was going to kick some midget butt.
"Holy shite," so says Scotty, in awe. He definitely got out of Joe's way. In fact, he just picked up an escaping midget, and threw it in Joe's general direction. To be helpful. Then he gave her a very helpful thumbs up and a glowing review. "I like the chips! Well done!"
Joe rolled her eyes at Kirk, "Appily married. And you ave one behind you." She performed a whirlwind kick, sending the midget flying high over head!
"Thank you."
Sulu leaped off the bar and onto like 3 midgets, all ninja-chopping and whoopass and RAR and ... he wasn't even sure what he was doing. He was just glad he wasn't doing it with a bottle in his hand.
That's when McCoy got the bright idea to use the bottle to force them backwards where they could be snuck up on themselves. Easy, right?
The midgets were trying to fall back and regroup. They chose the pool table as their Helm's Deep.
Isabela meanwhile, got up and pulled her pants up, pulled out a switchblade, and poked a midget with it, "Get your arse out of my way, sweet thing, or I'll slice your ears off and laugh about it."
He pissed his pants!
Isabela smirked, "Good. We understand eachother." She motioned with her switchblade in the direction of the doorway, then made her way to the fighting guys and the one hot chick.
Scotty, meanwhile, was trying to find Tony in all that mess. Because he is personally going to throw him out of the bar onto the sidewalk again. Hopefully not getting thrown out after him.
Tony? Had a gun.
"Oh. REALLY." So says Scotty, with an eyeroll of massive proportions followed with the most epic R U SRS grawrr face, ever. "A gun. Gonnae shoot me with ye wee pea shooter, are ye? Ye wee toy gun? Does it have paintballs in it? Like I give a shite if ye cannae handle ye'self by using ye own fists. I dunnae need a gun tae kick yer arse. PISS AFF, would ye!"
Sulu, who had made his way to McCoy and was standing at his back more or less, eyed Scotty like 'Is this really the time to mock the midget with the gun?'
Try telling Scotty that, he was in full mock, and either because of scotch or temper, probably wasn't thinking before shooting ye old mouth off. Go fig!
"Good Lord." McCoy muttered to Sulu. "Is he serious? With the guy having a fucking gun?"
Tony shrugged, then pulled the trigger right as Kirk shoved Scotty out of the way. The bullet lodged in his hip. Fortunately it missed anything vital.
"Naaaaeeeee! Aww, why'd ye go an' deeeew that, lad? Oh that has it. Yer gonnae pay!" And there goes Scotty, lunging at Tony, all Scottish fury because no way do you screw with a man's drinking buddies. PUNCH TO DA FACE. Eat fist, Tony!
Tony flailed, the gun discharging wildly in all directions as he tried to escape Scotty's fists!
Nope, too late, fists are unstoppable. It's like he's just had his car or...something mechanical...insulted, that and Kirk's hip is busted up, so someone's going to pay. Chew on some knuckles, Tony.
Patrons and midgets alike were diving for cover!
McCoy was glancing at Kirk's hip and frowning. Not that he could do anything in all the chaos but...
Sulu stabbed his mun in the face for getting lost in grey's anatomy reruns, then proceeded to rewind time long enough to NODNODNOD at McCoy over the 'Is he serious?'
Oh, right. Gun. Scotty went to disarm Tony inbetween punches, though it will probably run out of bullets at some point. Everyone just stay ducked under cover? Punch. And there's a plaid tapestry of cursing being woven, inside the pub. It's a colorful plaid. Not just plain red and black or anything. It’s like double rainbow plaid. What does it mean?
Isabela dragged Kirk under a table, "We really have to stop meeting like this."
Kirk laughed, "Just no hospitals. I hate those places. ..Some whiskey, a pair of pliers and a bandaid. I'll be fine."
The gun eventually stopped firing and Varric grabbed Scotty by the shoulders, hauling him bodily off the midget before there was a second murder attempt.
"Right, we'll just use sex endorphins as painkillers!" She said cheerfully.
Sulu, meanwhile, was just glad the shooting was over so he could rescue kirk from that woman go check on his drinking buddy.
Hauling off being the operative word there, because Scotty looked ready to smack a wee boybitch again if he managed to claw his way back toward Tony.
"I like the way you think," Kirk replied, sounding a little distant.
"Okay, calm down Tinker. Joe's calling the cops, and most of the folks here are going to have nightmares about tiny little men." Varric smoothed Scotty's shirt down.
Isabela slapped Kirk’s face, "No, YOU don't do that. That distant 'I think I'm dying, Isabela as my voice fades off into the distance' thing."
Scotty growled and then nodded a bit, after he got past the nearly foaming at the mouth WTF GRAWRR phase of being ticked off.
McCoy made his way over to the table where Kirk and Isabela were, and lightly knocked on the top of it before peering down. "Not to interrupt and I'm a pathologist doctor, not a doctor doctor but I think I'd better see what's what."
"M'not sure the fading off into the distance thing works with fuck buddies," Kirk clarified. He must have lost more blood than he'd thought, "This is so weird. I have the strangest sense of Deja Vu."
"Guns, that's so shite. Stupid arse," he said, brushing himself off. "Never understood what couldnae be solved with a good punch tae the face. Got tae bring guns intae things." There he goes, making the big ol' L with his fingers to his forehead down at Tony, whom he's hoping is bleeding a whole helluva lot, yeah.
"I think you'd better get your arse down here, then." Isabela scooted over, then snerked, "Fuck buddies, I like that term."
McCoy wedged himself into the space she made and he gave her a little nod. "We're going to need to get his pants off. Something tells me he'll like it more if you help with that."
Kirk gave her a thumbs up, "Scoootty I hope you left the little shit alive, don't need Bubba getting into your Scottish asshole!"
"Oh believe me, I am an expert at getting men's pants off. Allow me." Isabela smirked and got right to work with that. One handed. The other one was still slapping Kirk's cheek.
"He's alive," and there was a pause and a thud of a kick, "aye, he is. Still breathing. The turd."
Sulu started herding injured midgets out of the bar, sometimes picking them right up off the floor and setting them outside the door like they were dirty dish rags or something.
Kirk grinned cheekily.
Varric went outside to talk to police.
"Thank you for coming, seek medical attention, please don't come back here," Sulu was nothing if not polite.
And Scotty made sure to check and make sure he didn't get hit by any stray bullets. All good? All good. Fuck you, Tony. No revenge for you!
Kirk kissed McCoy on the cheek, then Bela on the mouth, then pulled Scotty down for a cheek kiss. And Sulu too! Then promptly passed out.
Scotty's face was like o.O but then he simply smiled, gave Kirk a headpat, and went to help himself to some scotch.
"Death bed kisses are fun," Isabela still sounded cheerful.
"Aww, he's adorable." McCoy told her, shaking his head a little as he started in by looking for the entry site. At least he could mostly get this patched, he figured, and got to work.
Kirk opened his eyes, "No hospital!" Then passed out. Again.
He had to emphasize the point, after all.
Isabela and Sulu pretty much played scrub nurse to McCoy's surgeon.
"Tryin' my best to keep you from there, kid." McCoy promised while he tried to remember what to do.
Then they retired. To Scotty's repair shop. For more drinks. Then end.