120 Bar fight! (2/2)

Fawkes groaned as we entered the moist grass, his eyes carefully trailed against the surroundings. The sphinx had slipped into the thicket quite sneakily. Its tail swaying fastidiously as it ran through the dark confines of the branching trees.

”Ugh what sort of annoying landscape is this.?” I muttered to myself as I walked on..

********************************

Marco sighed as he waved his foot around. The world seemed to go to war against itself around him, yet he seemed not even to notice. A bottle of alcohol sat in his hands as he leaned against the walls of the dimly lit tavern.

His orange hair seemed to wave around, all pineapple like as he took a deep sip of the bitter draught.

”God damnit Thatch! That's my drink!!” a random pirate roared as he drove his elbow into the sniggering sword wielder. His long and afro like hair waved around as he fell off his seat, the bottle of alcohol still in his hand.

”Asshole, you want a piece of me?!!” He roared out as he got to his feet, before snatching at his angry crewmate. With a mighty heave he judo flipped him off his chair before smiling in satisfaction.

Unfortunately however the erstwhile untouched alcohol bottle now lay broken, shattered from its contact with the ground.

With a mighty swing, the self satisfied whitebeard pirate was tossed out as a cussing and angry mook took his place.

”Asshole don't waste alcohol!”

And thus devolved the fight that shattered the tavern to bits. Tables fractured under the intense brawl, the tavern chairs had long vanished as food was tossed all around, the crew's penchant for the preservation of alcohol obviously not extending to the field of the product of sustenance.

As the fight increased in its intensity, Marco's fellow commander began to enjoy himself more and more, occasionally coating his ginger fists in Haki before resting them in the faces of his comrades.

With a sudden wail, an unfortunate fool flew towards the brooding phoenix. With an equally loud thud the afore mentioned sad existence fell upon the alcohol bottle that Marco had been nursing.

Then began the true pandemonium.

”That does it! Thaaaaaaatchhhhhh!!” he roared as blue flames rose around his feet, before he rocketed towards the grinning swordsman. Punching out with each breath as he sidestepped past the unnamed drunk sod that in his stupor believed himself capable of taking on the first commander of the whitebeard pirates himself.

As all this got underway, a crying bar tender crawled beneath the counter. 'Everytime these bastards come here, every fucking time! Why does this have to happen to my bar..?'