FSE

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9. Tough back to reality

While finishing drinking his beer, Jack got up grumbling in his mind: "Damn, I thought getting shit-faced would make this night less dead boring, I made a mist--"

BARRRRF! HOLY SHIT, WHAT'S THE FUCK?!!

What had happened right now, was just a dove named Morris, after one drink too many, had literally vomited on Jack, who yelled in surprise. At the time, we could hear sniggers, and even hissing coming from some guests. After the moment of astonishment, the lion already had an idea of the fate he reserved to the bird, for dirtying his top.

"Oh, I'm sorry, oof... I didn't see you, dude."

"No, really?"

"By the way, burp, who the hell are you?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. You can be sure, tomorrow morning, you'll remember me."

PAF! OUF! BABOOM-BOOOM! With a single uppercut, Jack had just knocked down the dove, which writhed in pain. From then on, joy was replaced by fear, and laughter in murmurs. Now that the sentence was rendered, the feline went to the exit, but Fabian, barred his road.

"Wait, Jack, what's going on?" He asked, worried.

"Wow Fabian, are you kidding?! Don't touch me!"

"But where you going?"

"It's not your business!"

"But wait--"

"DAMN IT, BUT LEAVE ME ALONE!"

PAF! AAAAH! This time, it only takes a slap for the canine release him and move backwards. Jack, on the other hand, approached him, and confessed, boiling: "Let me be frank with you, buddy: if I accepted your invitation, it's only so that you shut your mouth. Because, otherwise, be sure I should have refused to be around BY SUCH IDIOTS!"

Now, almost everyone was holding their breath, divided between anger and astonishment. Even the music couldn't hide the heavy atmosphere of the room. Eyes twinkling with rage, Jack span around the guests, claws and canines out, causing backward movements for some guests. With his hostile behavior, he had no problem making his way through the exit.

"ON THIS, GO ALL FUCK YOURSELVES, YOU HICKS!" He yelled before opening and closing the door with full force.

Once outside, he realized how he looked. He was a little disoriented, his T-shirt soaked by a greenish mixture. Given the present circumstances, it was obvious that he would go home, by taxi. So, he took his phone.

But calling the driver, he thought again about the mouflon he previously spotted. Besides, why was he thinking about this bovine? Jack didn't care what this guy thought right now. He didn't know him, he didn't know where he was coming from, nor why he was there, much less what kind of man he was.

No, for the next few minutes, Jack would go home, get rid of his clothes, take a shower and go to sleep. No more, no less. And the next day, he'd forget this night, he wouldn't seek who this stranger was, nor what his name is. He knew nothing about this mouflon, and it was better that way.