7 Plot Coupons and a Sweet Leather Jacket

Ballroom Dancing Under Neon Lights

The door to the bar swings open pausing in the wind displaying the sharp angular figure that stands in its wake. The blue robot strides in awkwardly, his heavy metal feet causing the floorboards to creak as he steps. Metal Sonic is a new face in this bar. Most people out here in the boonies have never heard of the guy. Naturally in a community as isolated as this one outsiders are met with a curious but distrustful stare.

The bar is small. It's the kind of bar with a tackle dispensing vending machine at the front door. The establishment has few tables for eating, instead half of the real estate is taken by a large pool table with ashtrays precariously balanced on each corner. Far from classy, this place has a more rural charm to it, boasting a wall lined with bear heads, deer antlers and a sprinkling of sports memorabilia.

At this hour the bar is dead, the other customers forced to get over the appearance of a new patron. Metal sits down and gestures to the bartender for a glass of water. Only one other person is sitting at the barstools. The rest of the establishment doesn't have much in the way of business either. A group of three sits at a table nearest to the bathroom, meanwhile two guys play to finish up a very tense game of pool.

Money exchanges hands, presumably going to the winner. The soft crackle of the old television behind the bar gives the place an older feel. It's hard to distinguish what's going on on the black and white 8 inch screen. But the place makes do.Seeming to use it more as a radio than a television. The sports program ends and in comes the Nine O'Clock news.

Welcome one and all to News Three-Nine at Nine, I'm Scarlet Garcia and tonight I'll be your host as we run through today's nightly news. Our main story tonight, a Chaos Emerald on display in an unlikely place. More on that at Nine-Thirty.

The news proceeds to go on about the weather. The robot hangs his dented head over the recent missed opportunity. The emerald may have been fake from the start but Metal had extended some approximation of hope to the outcome of that competition. It was quite the gamble really, without anyone to repair him a hard enough hit could have put him out of commission for good. He risked everything for that prize only to have it metaphorically crumble in his hands. All he can do now is yearn for a situation he fought for but never received.

Metal's deeper calculations are interrupted by the bartender's unwelcoming voice, "You gonna order something, doll? Or are you just going to take up one of my seats here."

Metal takes the hint and steps down from the barstool, giving the poor woman a hostile stare. His gaze is broken by the two men chalking up their pool sticks. They're betting pocket change on billiards, five dollars entry fee. Metal pulls out a ring and places it on the table, signaling that he wants in on the game.

One man looks at the other and shrugs, "Ain't that worth 'bout five dollars at the currency exchange?"

"Nah bruh, it was like four ninety last time I checked."

"Pssh, close enough" He looks to Metal apathetically "Go get a stick from the rack, fresh meat gets first shot."

His creator's love of all things, casino, pinball and carnival has a distinct advantage in this game. Not only does he know how to play but Dr. Eggman has over the years through a combination of boredom and interest taught him the advanced strategies of all his favorite games. It's one of the few things the two can rightly agree on. Metal sweeps the competition and shows no mercy in this otherwise casual game of billiards.

The clock strikes Nine-Twentynine and the opponents are throwing a fit. Accusing the robot of cheating and prodding him with a pool stick the men start a quiet bar fight. Metal stands his ground. Waiting for the rest of the news story he tosses the two men around like rag dolls.